Ranger's Apprentice - Rescue

Chapter 22

Halt had two arrows on the way before the men he'd sighted even noticed he was there.

Under normal circumstances, he might have given them a chance to surrender. But these were clearly not normal circumstances. The fact that they had kidnapped a Ranger's apprentice was proof that they held no respect for the title or the Corps. Therefore, Halt felt no need to show mercy.

Crowley might have disapproved of his behavior, but Halt had shrugged that thought aside. Often times, his red-haired friend didn't approve of what he did. It never really changed Halt's decision making process.

By the time the two men that Halt had aimed at were writhing on the ground, a third man had raised the alarm. Unfortunately for him, that only drew Halt's attention, as well as a third arrow, and that man also fell dead within seconds.

Men began to pour out of tents now, although to Halt's surprise, the central tent that clearly held the leader of the camp remained undisturbed. He continued to draw arrows and send them flying through the clearing, never once missing his target.

It didn't take long for him to reach the small hold in the center of the camp. As he approached, he could see more clearly what kind of keep it was. Not that there was much to it. Clearly, several of the men had dug a hole in the ground that reached about two meters below the ground's surface. A sloppily built wooden door had been thrown over it, with holes cut in it so that food could be lowered down into the makeshift cell.

It was through one of these holes that Halt chanced a quick glance. But the interior was too dark to see anything inside. Halt sensed eyes on him, and he looked up just in time to see a man swinging a small axe at him. Instinct saved him, as it usually did, and he ducked just in time. Then, acting on impulse, he drew his saxe and slipped it between the man's ribs. The man's eyes widened in brief shock before he toppled over to the side.

Halt took a moment to let loose a few more arrows, all of which found their marks. Those who hadn't fallen hesitated now at the sight of Halt's accuracy. Halt glanced back down into the pit below him.

"Will?" he whispered hopefully. There was a pause, and then a weak voice called back.

"Who's there?"

Even without the question, Halt would have known it wasn't Will. The voice was too nasally and timid to be his apprentice. Not to mention that Will would've recognized Halt's voice instantly.

"King's Ranger," Halt replied. "Where is Will?"

Halt heard a sharp intake of breath. He waited impatiently, sending another arrow and a bystander to keep them at bay. Finally, he got tired of waiting.

"Well?" he growled.

"Halt?" the voice called up. "Ranger Halt? Is that you?"

Halt frowned.

"Yes, it's me. Who are you?"

The voice rose in pitch, and Halt could easily detect the renewed relief in the tone.

"It's George! George Carter! Will said you would come!"

Halt's heart leapt.

"Will's there?" Then, he realized that if Will wasn't speaking something had to be wrong. His heart skipped a beat. "Is he alright? What-"

"We were ambushed," George cried hastily. "Will was shot in the leg with an arrow. He's bled a lot and now he won't wake up, Halt! I don't know what to do!"

Halt hesitated, his mind racing. If Will was injured, Halt would need to see the injury to know what his next move should be. Depending on his condition, moving his apprentice could be too dangerous. Which also meant that having George lift Will up to him could be the wrong decision, especially with so many men still waiting around Halt for their moment to attack.

Which left only one option, and it wasn't very comforting.

"Alright," he said decisively. "Make way. I'm coming down."

"What?" George cried. "But we need-"

"We need to take a look at Will's wound before we do anything," he said. "Are you ready for me?"

George hesitated.

"Yes," he finally said. "You can come down now."

Halt didn't waist any time. He slung the bow around his shoulder, opened the door of the pit, and leapt in nimbly, bending his knees as he landed to break the fall.

Still, he grunted a little with the land. Then he shook himself and stood, glancing around the little pit.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did, he could see the curly haired frame of George standing awkwardly off to Halt's left.

"Where is Will?" Halt immediately asked. George gestured hurriedly to the ground beside him. Halt quickly knelt by the crumpled form of Will's body. As his eyes continued to adjust to the dark, he could see the silhouette of Will's head slumped to one side, his eyes closed and his face slack.

"Will?" Halt called, not bothering to keep his voice at a whisper anymore. Halt felt his panic rise as Will didn't respond. "Come on now, Will."

He shook the boy's shoulder, but again he didn't stir. Finally, Halt swallowed his fear and moved to look at Will's leg. He didn't have to ask George which one was injured. It was obvious. Will's left leg was elevated on a pile of cloth that looked suspiciously like his cloak. For the first time through his fear, Halt realized that Will had no shirt on. What was left of the ripped garment was tied firmly around his left thigh. And below the knee, Will's leg was covered in dried blood, a gaping hole in his calf.

Halt gasped, the blood draining from his face. Then he instantly felt heat rise back into his cheeks in anger as he remembered the men outside that had done this to Will.

Instantly, he was grateful that he'd taken the medical bag from Abelard's sack. He set to cleaning and stitching Will's wound, subjecting George to grab anything he needed from the pack as he worked. It didn't help Halt's focus when he realized that Will wasn't crying out in pain when Halt began to stitch. That meant he was so deeply unconscious that he couldn't feel the pain. And that, Halt knew, was not a good sign.

Finally, having done all he could, Halt stood with an expression of pure hatred on his face.

"Help me out," he growled. Nearby, George frowned.

"What?"

Halt made his way to the opening, not bothering to look at George.

"Get over here and help me out of this hole."

"But... where are you-?"

"DO WHAT I SAID!"

The pure anger in Halt's voice was enough to send George scrambling over to his side. Wobbly, he lifted Halt by his foot and allowed the man to clamber out of the hole.

"Wait there," Halt called down, his voice dangerously low. "Keep Will alive."

"But what are you going to do?" George called up fearfully. 

Halt glared at the camp around him. His chest burned with a fury so intense that he felt as if he might explode.

"I don't know who the blithering blazes these men are," he answered slowly. "But they might have just cost my apprentice his career."

Halt nocked an arrow, flexing his bowstring once.

"And they're about to pay for it."