Ranger's Apprentice - Rescue

Chapter 23

If he had been asked later to recount the events that led to the demolition of the camp, Halt wouldn't have been able to recall anything.

First, he was glaring at the surrounding men who, for some reason, already looked reluctant to approach him despite the fact that he'd been down in the prison hold for several minutes and was now extremely outnumbered. Then, the next thing he knew, his vision was red. There was an angry roar in his ears and his blood rushed to his head. He simply drew and fired arrows, not realizing that he was aiming at all, until his quiver was emptied. When that happened, he drew his saxe and continued to rage on.

In less than ten minutes, the camp was dead silent.

Halt stood, sweat dripping down his face and neck. His saxe was still held tightly in his hands. He took two deep breaths, closing his eyes to force himself to calm down. He tried to stop his body from trembling but failed.

He wasn't sure exactly how long he stood there, but it was long enough to allow his mind to catch up to what he'd done.

For a split second, he felt remorseful. There were at least three dozen bodies around him. None of them were survivors. And not a single one had been given the chance to surrender. That was not the way of the Corps, he knew. Crowley would be absolutely livid, and Halt would be forced to endure a lecture where he would maintain a careless outer appearance, but inwardly would feel guilt ridden.

But for now, he shrugged all of that aside. Because there was still something of even more importance.

"Will!" He cried, sheathing his saxe and sprinting back to the pit. Once again, the darkness prevented Halt from seeing through the hole. He flung the wooden covering back and the moonlight spilled inside. The pale, terrified face of George looked up at him.

"Ranger Halt!" he cried in alarm. "What on earth happened out there? It sounded awful!"

"Never mind that," Halt snapped. "How is Will? Any improvement?"

George glanced uncertainly at his unconscious friend.

"He's still breathing and his pulse is still there," George replied carefully. "But he hasn't woken up yet."

Halt waved his concern aside, thought his own worry was still gnawing at his guts.

"He won't wake up for several hours," Halt said quickly. "He needs rest. But right now we need to get him out of there."

"But won't moving him reopen the wound?" George asked. Halt bit back a sarcastic remark, forcing himself to remember that George was not trained to react in times like these. He couldn't blame the scholar for questioning his every move. George was in shock.

"If we are rough, yes," Halt explained. "So we'll just keep from being rough. Lift him up by the arms and drag him over here. Carefully, now."

Halt waited patiently, or as patiently as he could manage, while George struggled to carry Will's limp body toward the opening of the pit. All of Will's muscles added to his weight, and despite his small frame, he became unbelievably heavy when he was unconscious. And George, it must be said, was not the most physically capable young man.

"That's it," Halt encouraged as George finally reached the spot Halt needed Will to be in. "Now, this is the hard part. I need you the lift him up, by the arms again, as high as you can. Not yet," he added as George hastened to do as Halt had said. "Wait until I tell you."

Quickly, Halt glanced around the clearing. He spotted the closest tent and made his way to it, cursing under his breath as he struggled to untie the rope used to hold the canvas to the ground stakes. 

Finally, he managed to pull the rope free. Then he tied a quick but firm harness and looped it around his waist. He tied the other end to the ground stake, which he moved to a location a few meters away. There was a little slack in the rope when Halt returned to the pit with his harnessed end still wrapped around him, but not much.

"Alright," he said as he knelt down and peered back into the pit. "Lift him now. Gently."

George grunted with the strain as he did what Halt asked. Halt, in turn, leaned down into the pit, hesitantly at first until he knew the rope would hold his weight. Then he continued to lean down until he could firmly grasp Will under both of his arms and hauled the boy up and out of the pit.

He drug Will a few meters away, careful not to jar his leg more than was necessary, before he returned to the pit and helped George out.

"Grab my medicine bag," he told the scholar apprentice before lifting him out of the pit as well.

Then Halt slid easily out of his makeshift harness and set to re-examining Will's leg. He let out a relieved sigh as he realized it wasn't as bad as he had originally feared. After peering closely at the carefully stitched wound in the renewed moonlight, he paused to glance around the clearing. No other men had appeared from any more tents. But the central tent, the one that was more adorned and eye-catching, still hadn't shown any signs of its inhabitants. That gave Halt cause for concern.

He glanced at the area that had obviously been the cooking pit, spotting several pales.

"George," he said in an authoritative tone. "Go and grab those pales of water. Bring them all. You'll have to make several trips."

This time, George didn't ask questions. He simply set off in the direction that Halt had gestured. Halt nodded approvingly. Then he turned his attention back to Will.

"Come on now, Will. Hold on." Halt muttered as he worked at Will's leg, elevating it on the same pile of cloth that George had used in the pit. In the light of the moon, Halt could now confirm that it was Will's ruined, bloody cloak. The sight tore at Halt's heart. Will had always cherished his cloak. If he could see what was left of it, he would be devastated.

Halt shook his head.

I can get him a new cloak, he told himself. I can't get a new Will. Focus on saving him.

George returned with the last of the pales, and Halt immediately began cleaning Will's leg again. As soon as he put pressure on the wound, Halt heard a sound that brought both tears of deep sympathy and tears of relief to his eyes.

Will moaned in pain. It was soft, but it had definitely been there.

"Will?" Halt tried experimentally. Will's eyebrows twitched together momentarily. Halt felt his heart leap with joy. Will was alive, and clearly recovering.

"You hang in there, Will," Halt told him firmly. "You hang in there. I'm here. You're safe now. I've got you, Will."

Halt swallowed thickly past the lump in his throat as he saw Will's face relax a bit.

"I've got you," he whispered, this time to himself.

A/N: Hello loves! First, thank you guys SO MUCH for the love you give my books! It means the world to me and encourages me to keep updating! Second, I just want to warn you in advance that my updates may become a little less frequent. I will definitely still update weekly, but there might be a few days between each one. Don't think I've forgotten about the book! I'll still work on it as much as I possibly can! But I'm helping a good friend move into his new house and then I'm packing up and moving back to college, all in this next week, so it's going to be super busy and hectic and crazy! Thanks in advance for your patience! Love you all!