Ranger Meralon, of Norgate, hesitated for a moment before picking up the pouch of gold off the heavy oak desk before him, decision made. He thought it rather pointless to object to the bribe now, after having accepted the countless ones before.
This was slightly different, however. Where before he'd simply been paid to look the other way while the man before him skirted about the law, he had never before taken a bribe for something that could amount to treason.
It couldn't possibly be that serious though, could it? He was only passing on a bit of information that, while difficult, could be obtained elsewhere. It would benefit him as well, wouldn't it? After all, it wouldn't do to have Will Treaty snooping around unchecked and discover that he'd been taking bribes for the past few years.
"Ranger Will Treaty is on his way here, disguised as a jongleur, to investigate the goings on in the fief. He'll be focused of the forest and supposed sorcerer, but knowing Treaty, he'll stick his nose into places where it doesn't belong, causing all kinds of trouble. I've been ordered not to inform you of the investigation, and to stay out of his way."
Meralon watched closely as his companion, Sir Keren, illegitimate nephew Lord Syron of Castle Macindaw, took in the news. Anger flashed behind the man's eyes briefly, before his right hand twitched and he seemed to come to a decision, jaw hardened.
"Do not worry. It will be dealt with. Treaty will not discover anything." The voice was cold, unmerciful, and Meralon's doubts rose to the surface once more.
"What do you plan to do?" he queried, hand clenching tightly around the pouch of gold, causing it to clink.
Keren smirked, and gestured towards to door. "That is none of your concern, Ranger. Perhaps, if you are lucky, I shall inform you once it has been done."
Ranger Meralon nodded, turning, before walking out the door, ignoring the dark sense of forbidding gripping his chest.
Will grinned and rested his mandola against the wall as he signalled the bartender for a drink. Shadow lay at his feet, her tongue lolling out, as the men in the tavern shouted and clamoured for just one more song.
This was his last stop before Castle Macindaw, and he'd be leaving first thing in the morning. There had been no problems since he had left Berrigan and started traveling on his own. He hadn't messed up a song (noticeably at least), and all the taverns he'd visited had given no sign that they suspected he was anything but a genuine jongleur.
A young serving maid placed his ale on the bench before him, and he gave a gentle smile and nod in thanks, before rising the tankard to his lips. He'd never been much for anything other than the occasional before his current assignment, but after having the drink basically poured down his throat by grateful tavern keepers, he'd developed a taste for a good ale. He'd always been careful to watch how much he was drinking, and had become well practiced at subtly not drinking or 'vanishing' the alcohol.
Tonight though was a milestone, and probably what would be one of his last nights as a pure entertainer. As soon as he arrived at Macindaw, he'd be spending as much time as possible investigating, so Will decided to treat himself with a few tankards.
By the time he had finished the first, Will was feeling pleasantly buzzed. Normally it took more than one for him to get to this stage, but perhaps the ale here was stronger than he was used to. He gestured for the serving girl again, and turned and observed the patrons.
The turning motion had a much greater effect than Will had anticipated, however, and he felt everything tilt slightly off kilter. He frowned, and his instincts were suddenly screaming at him that something was very, very wrong. There was no way he should be this affected by a single ale. His balance and vision were getting worse by the passing minute.
He waved off the serving girl who had returned with his refill, and grabbed his mandola from its spot against the wall. As Will climbed to his feet, he was forced to grab the table for support. Ignoring the tavern keeper, Will made his way towards the stairs to his room above the tavern.
By the time he'd staggered up the steps, there was no longer any doubt in his mind. He'd been drugged, and quite heavily at that. What possible reason could be tavern keeper or his employees have to drug him? And what had he been drugged with? Would it just knock him out, or was it some kind of poison?
After some fumbling, Will pushed the door to his room open and stepped inside. All of a sudden, he was assaulted by an overwhelming nausea, and vomited violently onto the floor. Barely pausing to wipe his mouth on his sleeve, Will grabbed his pack and shut his mandola in its case.
He didn't know where he was going, but Will knew that he had to get out of there, and fast. His vision was blurred, and his sense of vertigo was so far gone that he'd be lucky not to knock himself out by tripping over his own feet. If he was to be attacked, he would be helpless.
Will had barely made it out the doorway before Shadow gave a loud bark of warning and started growling at a large blur at the top of the stairs. Clumsily, Will drew his saxe from its sheath, gripping the heavy blade two handed. As the blur stepped forward and split in half, Shadow launched herself, snarling, at the rightmost blur.
The mass in front of him kept getting bigger, which meant either that more attackers had arrived, his vision was getting worse still, or the man was advancing towards him. Will backed up, pressing his back into the wall, trying desperately to stay on his feet.
Will waited, knowing that he had to take the best shot possible, because he was unlikely to get another one. At the very last moment before his assailant lunged at him, Will stepped forward and thrust into the centre of the dark mass as hard as he could.
He was rewarded by a grunt, before he lost his balance and fell face first to the floor. He was able to distinguish the sounds of Shadow whimpering, and a door slamming, before a fist grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into the wall, knocking him out cold.
Shadow whined and growled, scratching on the door of the room where the two men had trapped her, as the taller of the men picked Will up and swung his still form over his shoulder. The second man helped up a third who had Will's saxe sunk deep within his stomach, and the men made their way out of the tavern through the back entrance.
As they passed the tavern keeper, the taller man removed a small pouch of gold from his belt and tossed it to the man. The tavern keeper would dispose of the Ranger's animals in the morning, before informing the patrons of the tavern that the jongleur had moved on to the next town.
Nearly four hours later the men decided that they were far enough into the Grimsdell Wood that they would be safe from any possible pursuers or being discovered. The tall man, the leader of the triad, gestured to his fellows and they stopped, the man dropping Will carelessly to the snow covered ground.
He turned to face the injured man before pulling the saxe violently from his stomach, and thrusting forward, driving the knife deep through the man's ribcage and into his heart. The man died within seconds.
The second man dropped the body to the ground, seemingly careless of the leader's casual violence towards his companion. Blood stained the white snow around the corpse as the leader quickly wiped the knife on the man's tunic before turning towards Will.
"Shouldn't we dig a grave or something?" the second man asked, causing the taller to snort.
"And I suppose that you're volunteering to dig into this frozen ground? There's no point, wolves and other scavengers will tears the bodies to pieces before they can be discovered." And with that ominous statement, the man grabbed Will by the shoulder and turned him onto his back.
Will, frozen and aching, had regained consciousness just before he had been dropped, and was sluggishly trying to orient himself with the situation. He heard enough to know that the men planned to kill him, and in his current state, it seemed that there was little that he could do to stop them.
When he felt a rough hand grab his shoulder and force him onto his back, Will knew that he was about to die. Why couldn't they have finished him off while he was facedown, unable to watch? It was a terrifying thing, watching helpless as his death drew nearer.
The bastard lent over Will and looked him directly in the eyes as the blade of his own saxe flashed in the moonlight. Desperate, Will tried to raise his arm and push the man away, but his arm failed to do more than twitch. The drug was apparently paralytic.
What a way to go. Lying immobile on the frozen forest floor, killed by his own weapon. He tried to say something, anything, that would cause the man to stop, but all that came out was a low groan.
The man smirked. "Goodbye, Ranger."
The next thing Will felt was a horrible, burning pain in his gut as the saxe was driven forcefully into his stomach. His vision went black, and suddenly…
…Will was standing outside Halt's cabin, brushing down Tug as the man talked. There was a bark from behind him, and Shadow came running down the path, followed by a laughing Alyss who ran up and hugged him tightly, before kissing him lightly on the lips.
Ranger Meralon stood once more in Keren's office, the sense of dread from his last meeting stronger than ever.
"You'll be pleased to know that I have taken care of the situation. Will Treaty no longer presents any sort of threat to my plans." Keren smirked, and despite his charismatic air, the sight did little to calm Meralon's misgivings.
"What did you do?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know who Keren had managed to bribe or threaten in order to get Will's mission pulled.
The man gave a shallow laugh, the sound chilling Meralon to the bone. "Why, I did the only thing I could.
"I had Will Treaty killed."
Keren gestured to a small bundle of cloth in the centre of the wooden desk, motioning him to pick it up. Stunned, like a puppet, the Ranger did so, and gently unwrapped the piece of metal inside. A silver oakleaf amulet. Will's. Covered in dried blood.
At the sight of it, Meralon froze, an invisible hand gripping his throat so tightly he couldn't breathe. Dead. Killed. The word was like a hammer, smashing down to break his comfortable world into pieces.
He'd taken a bribe, and Will Treaty was dead because of it. It was high treason, unforgiveable. He was in way over his head. There was no way he could possibly cover this up. Keren was out of control.
He had to stop him, he had to do something. He had to get out of there.
Ranger Meralon turned and ran from the office, the bloody cloth and amulet clenched tightly in his grasp, the sound of Keren's laughter chasing him down the stone corridor.
A/N
Apparently, exam time does wonders for my writing...
Please review and let me know what you think, I love reviews and they really do inspire me. Plus, I love starting random conversations with reviewers...
Unfortunately, I'm a rather random updater, and despite all my best intentions to stick to a schedule, time just seems to fly out the window. Add to that that have more than one story on the go right now, and their are always new ones jumping up and down in my head, it might take a while before the next update and for this to be completed. Nevertheless, it, and all of my stories, will be completed. And if you're lucky there may even be some updates rapid fire.
I do not own Ranger's apprentice and its characters. They belong to John Flanagan.
Thanks for reading!
Ali_Ranger51
P.S. Don't kill me. I didn't intend to kill Will when I woke up this morning. Everything just kind of snowballed.