Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice, nor most of the characters used in this story.
Will could see them coming long before the others did.
He knew the signs to look for. Beside him, he saw Horace looking to the sky, looking for the cloud of dust that would never appear. It had been raining hard the day before, making it nearly impossible for the Araluen Cavalry to run their horses. That meant no rising dust wherever they walked. The way these people attacked was new as well, different. Instead of using what Horace called siege equipment, they scaled the walls like acrobats. Much like how Will usually did. They didn't come in a large force, as a big number of them slipped into the usual crowd of citizens that flowed in and out of Castle Araluen daily. The others had somehow kept themselves hidden as they approached the castle's walls, taking out all the sentries on their way in. They left none of them alive.
Their tactics scared him.
Not because they were new, but because they were so familiar, Will could have been one of the approaching men. They scaled the walls, just as he'd been doing for his entire life. They ghosted past sentries, and killed them from behind. They blended in.
They could have been Rangers, for all he knew.
Taking that into account, Will wasn't watching for a force of men to come trampling after them. No, they would sneak after the retreating Araluens, and wait until they were in a position where one act would kill them all. Every once and a while, he'd loose an arrow, seemingly off into the shadows, but in reality it would go for one of the enemy. He wouldn't be able to kill all of them before they attacked, but he could try. Horace and the other knights standing with them would give him odd looks, but no one questioned him. Not many would question a Ranger's actions. Especially an angry one at that.
Behind him, the boat creaked, as the occupants quietly readied themselves.
"Sir, we'd better be leaving now. They're ready," murmured the knight beside Horace. Will didn't know his name. He didn't really want to know either. After everything that had happened, he didn't want to meet other people, only to have them shot minutes later. Because that has how it has been, the past few days. And he didn't like it.
He took another arrow in his hand, and nocked it. Scanning the ground, he saw the approaching ghost, drew, and fired. They used the same technique as Rangers. This one being more in the open, the person stumbled back, crying out, and fell to the ground. Will gripped his bow, dropping his arm.
Horace didn't comment on the shot or the dead body, but instead grabbed Will's elbow, and tugged him back. "Let's go Will," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice, "We don't have much more time." The Ranger studied his friend's face.
Will turned away, not wanting to see any more of his face. I probably look the same, if not worse. "You lead, I'll watch our backs," he whispered.
The knight nodded, and motioned for the other knights to go in front of him. One by one they boarded the boat, where the Royals and "important" people of the Araluen Kingdom resided. Some were below deck, possibly in shock from the obliteration of their kingdom, and others were on deck. Will could just barely hear Duncan's voice in conversation, but he could also hear Cassandra, Halt, Anthony, and Crowley's respond to him.
Will wanted to hate them.
Will wanted to hate them all for doing this.
Someone tapped Will's shoulder, and slowly he walked backwards to the boat, constantly scanning the horizon and the hillside for any attackers. He saw a few, but none that worried him enough to waste an arrow. The majority of them were probably still hidden away, or back at the castle.
He felt the edge of the boat on the back of his calf, and briefly glanced back long enough to step over it. From there, after making sure he had steady feet, he stepped back up onto the railing, and crouched there. Scanning. Constantly watching. Waiting.
Behind him, they were talking. Probably something he was expected to take part in, but he didn't care. He didn't want to face any of them. Not after they decided to abandon the remaining Araluen citizens, and instead decided to run. Only the "important" people got on, and people who could help defend it. He knew a few couriers were below deck, including his wife and Pauline, and that only a few Rangers were alive to get on. Others decided to stay behind. Will wasn't given an option, considering his position with the Royals, and the secrets he could reveal, but he had made it vocal enough.
He wanted to stay.
The boat, Skandian made, was now pulling away, and the gap was large enough between them and the dock that the ghosts, which Will now referred to them as, stood and plainly walked up to the edge. Will didn't shoot, but instead stared back at them. Literal feet apart, the two enemies stared face-to-face. Neither moved.
They wore material similar to his cloak. The only difference was the colors, and that they wore it all over, instead of just a cloak.
"Holy shit?" muttered the same knight who told Horace it was time to go. Will glanced around him, and noticed that as Horace had walked off to join his wife and father-in-law, the knights had stood beside him, to either side, watching what he watched. The man was commenting on the appearance of the ghosts, which had happened so suddenly Will wondered exactly how accurate the nickname he had given them truly was.
As they turned the bend further down the river, the ghosts were lost to sight. Now the boat was going along a cliff face, fairly close. Will continued to stare ahead, into the wall, as finally the knights dispersed. He didn't move from his crouch.
Glancing behind him, the Ranger realized that no one was paying attention to him. His family were caught in conversation, possibly debating on where the Skandian ship would take them. To Skandia? A closer ally? The knights had dispersed, most either going below deck, or staring out into the expanse of a sea to their other side. The actual Skandians were too busy doing their jobs of running the boat to notice him. He didn't recognize many of them anyways.
If I stay behind, here on this boat, what would happen? We'd leave, possibly forever, and I'd become embittered with the actions we did this day. Bitterness ruins things worse than actual death, Will thought, turning his eyes back to the craggy cliff wall in front of him. If he stretched out his arm, he'd be able to touch it.
To grab a handhold.
Looking back years later, Will realized he didn't really consider his actions after that simple realization.
He brought only his bow, looping it on his shoulder. He stood straight up, balancing on the railing—an easy feat, for someone who had been balancing there for nearly ten minutes already. He didn't glance back as he reached up, and grabbed the best handhold he could find. He didn't glance over to see the ship continue on its way as he hung on. He didn't look back to his family until he was up at the top, hiding in a small forest. He followed the ship on land, behind and out of sight.
It wasn't long before: "Where's Will?"
Halt had noticed first, his voice suddenly strained and panicked. Not something you heard often from someone like him. Every one of his family members knew how upset he'd been at the prospect of just up and leaving. But they apparently hadn't considered that he'd up and leave them.