Ranger's Apprentice - Rescue

Chapter 13

"Will, must we wear these the whole way home?" George whined from his saddle to Will's left.

Will frowned, grumbling under his breath. George had been complaining for the past week about anything he could find that was of the slightest discomfort. First, it was the poor pack horse that Will had acquired for George to ride. Rather than being grateful that he didn't have to walk, the young scholar had constantly felt the need to remind Will that the pack horse was bumpy and swaybacked.

Then, it was the weather, and the bitter chill of winter that crept into the breeze. George had mentioned this numerous times, and finally Will could hold his tongue no longer.

"Would you like me to change the weather, then?" He had asked his friend sarcastically. "Right, let me just pull out my handy little wand and swish it around!"

George had given him a startled look, which Will had promptly ignored. Moments after that, it occurred to Will that his sarcastic response was nearly identical to what Halt would have said, were he here. The thought was both amusing and a bit concerning.

"I'm turning into Halt," he muttered under his breath as they rode.

For about a day, Will experienced a lovely silence as George tried his best to nip his complaints in the bud. But soon, he could contain them no longer, and had moved on to his next area of displeasment; their clothes.

After his stunt with his cloak, tricking the men outside into thinking he had died, he had insisted that they change with a few guards that he'd knocked out. Their clothes, it had to be admitted, did reek of week old body odor. But there was little Will could do about that now. Once they reached the boarder and crossed over into Redmont Fief again, he would change back into his spare cloak. But for now, he knew that any men remaining at the camp they'd escaped from would be scouting for him and George, and Will's unique Ranger's cloak would deem them too recognizable.

"For the last time, George," Will said now, fighting to keep his tone neutral. "We only have a few days to go before we reach Redmont. Then we can change into the spare clothes I brought along."

"Fine," George huffed. "But don't expect me to thank you for a pleasurable journey home."

"How about for the fact that you're actually returning home alive in the first place?" Will couldn't help but point out. Beneath him, Tug snorted.

Good one.

George seemed properly berated. He squirmed in his saddle, casting his eyes down in shame.

"You're right," he said with some difficulty. "I'm sorry. Thank you for saving me, Will. Truly. It was of the utmost bravery and-"

Will stopped listening. Whenever George started using those big words, Will's head started to hurt. Instead, he scanned the horizon in front of him. He twisted around to look behind them as well. So far, there was no sight of anyone following them.

"Something doesn't seem right," he said, more to himself than to George. Nevertheless, the scholar stopped speaking to glance around nervously.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Do you see something? Can you sense them?"

Will glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Can I sense them?" he repeated, a little amused. "I'm a Ranger, not a dog, you know."

George nodded eagerly.

"Right, you're a Ranger," he pressed, ignoring the latter part of Will's sentence. "You have those heightened senses. That keen hearing and eyesight. The sixth sense that tells you where the danger lies. What is it telling you now?"

Will considered his friend for a moment before turning back to face the front. He supposed a small part of George's assumption was true. Will, like most Ranger's, did have heightened senses. But it wasn't anything he'd been born with. He'd simply trained for years to keep his senses heightened at all times. As for the sixth sense, Will had to admit that he too sometimes felt as if that were true. He'd seen it in Halt and Gilan, too.

Perhaps, he thought, some people were simply born to be Rangers.

"I don't know yet," he finally replied, shrugging. He glanced down at Tug once, but the little horse seemed unbothered. That was enough to relax Will's mind. If there was danger nearby, Tug would tell him.

"Well I'm ready to be home," George said again, groaning as he shifted in his saddle once more. Will watched him. He supposed that, with George's slowly healing injuries from having been tortured, the ride likely truly was more unenjoyable for his friend. He decided to take a bit of pity on George, just this once.

"Alright, let's take a break," he said, flicking Tug's reigns to stop the little horse. George turned wide, thankful eyes toward his friend. It had become obvious in the past week that Will didn't believe in breaks, something that few would realize came from years of training under someone as hard and determined as Halt. This, George knew, was a rare treat from Will.

"Oh thank the heavens," George sighed, slipping from his saddle clumsily. Will raised an eyebrow at him.

"No, actually," he corrected. "Thank me."

George smiled ruefully. "Right, thank you then."

Will nodded. He made himself busy watering Tug and the pack horse, finally allowing George to retrieve the tough jerky kept in his saddle pack when the wiry scholar's apprentice refused to leave Will's side until he was given a job.

They sank onto the grass, both enjoying the freedom from the saddle. Their backsides, it had to be admitted, were more than a little sore.

"Alright, time to get to it," Will said, rubbing his hands together. George sat up straight, turning a dishearten look in Will's direction.

"Sure not yet!" he exclaimed. "We've just sat down!"

Will shook his head, realizing he'd confused his friend.

"No, not that," he said. "I meant get to the explanation. I need to know everything you know and everything you found out while you were in that fortress. Otherwise, we might not make it home alive after all."