Story Summary: When Will is found poisoned and dying, Halt may be the only one who can bring hope to the apprentice. Father/Son, Will-Whumpage,
Info for the chapter:
War Games- a game devised for training.
Time setting: Sometime after Halt's Peril, but on major spoilers
The figure cloaked in a mottled green raised his longbow, sighting down the shaft of the arrow. It was only a few seconds until he could release the shot, but those few seconds felt like an eternity. He was used to that eternity however. He was used to the anticipation, the readiness, and the thrill of watching the arrow slice neatly through the breeze that grazed his cheek. The archer gave one last adjustment to his shot, and released it, watching it fly through the night as if it were the shot that would begin a war.
The arrowhead embedded itself in the throat of its target, and the deer fell, stumbling to its knees where it keeled over, dead. Behind the archer, a horse gave a low snort, amused by the shout from across the clearing.
"Great shot Halt!" from behind the bushes, a tall, stocky-looking teen rose, his eyes shining with mischief. On his back strapped a sword, and behind him was a battle horse, its coat gleaming as if even dirt was afraid to land on its hair.
From beside the archer- Halt was his title- stood another teen, his eyes dancing with relief that they had managed to find provisions. This teen however, was shorter, his face less ready to expression. "Horace," Halt's former apprentice began wearily, but Halt cut him off, raising a hand suddenly.
"Will, to the trees," Halt ordered, and without question, Will scaled the tree, his body flying up until he was comfortably nestled in the branches. Halt gave a small gesture to Horace, who instantly pulled back into the bushes once again, his horse following a few paces behind. Halt heard the whisper of movement that signaled Horace mounting the battle horse, Kicker, and the Ranger melted back into cover. There was nothing he could do about the fallen deer.
For a moment, the clearing was just as it was before- empty of Rangers, horses, and knights. Then it stirred.
Three mottled figures emerged as if from nowhere. Their horses made no sound for the moment as the three mounted men rode closer to the deer.
"Halt and Will were here," the leader of the group murmured, sighting the arrow still embedded in the deer. "Probably still nearby, if they left their-"
At that moment Halt released the arrow he had placed on his bowstring. The bolt sent the middle archer flying from his horse. Simultaneously, Will dropped out of the tree, landing on the shoulders of the lead rider as he drew his saxe knife, holding the leader at knifetip as they fell from the saddle and sprawled on the ground.
The last rider in the group made to draw his bow, but a single stroke of Horace's sword threw him out of the saddle, where he raised his hands in surrender.
"I'm never going to win against you, am I Halt?" Gilan asked merrily, holding his back as he stood, a grin dancing across his merry features.
"Never Gilan," Will told him impishly; lending the Ranger that he had defeated a hand up. "So why does Crowley see a point to these war games?" The youngest Ranger raised an eyebrow towards Halt, who as typical of his personality, ignored him and turned to Gilan.
"Gilan, have you run across any other bands?" Halt asked, his dark eyes searching the forest for any sign of movement even as he retrieved the blunt arrow that he had shot towards Clarke, the ranger of Seacliff.
"Just Crowley and Meralon. We managed to shoot Meralon, but Crowley escaped," Gilan shrugged, glancing towards Clarke.
"I say you Ranger's just shoot Crowley so we can get the exercise over with," Horace mumbled, ignoring Halt's raised eyebrow at his comment.
Halt turned away, surveying the scene. "Where are the nearest caves?" Halt left unspoken the need for cover and a new plan.
"Just south of us," Gilan interjected, walking over to where Blaze stood patiently. As the small band of Rangers, and the lone knight accompanying them, prepared to ride out, Halt continued to survey the land with a critical eye.
"Will, you lead point. Gilan, fifty meters behind. Each of us spreads out. Crowley will be impossible to hear, so we will allow the horses to follow us. Clarke and Horace, stay with the horses. Skinner, follow behind," each Ranger moved quickly, moving rapidly to follow their assigned tasks.
Will slipped through the trees, ahead of the rest. Occasionally, he paused to allow Gilan to come within sight of him, but mostly he jumped ahead, keeping a wary eye out for any unfriendly men- Ranger or commoner, noble or priest.
However, for all Will's wariness, he never noticed the figure slipping after him, almost invisible to the naked eye.
"Come on Ebony," Will muttered quietly to the pup trotting after him, even as he paused to kneel down as place her into a sling arranged carefully on his back for that very purpose. "Silent girl," he ordered the small dog. At once, she froze from where she had been shifting impatiently on his back, well-trained enough to fall as silent as a grave at his command.
As Will paused, the figure crouching in the bushes behind him paused, readying a crossbow as he watched the Ranger speak to his mutt. The Ranger appeared to be tired, for he moved slower then he would normally, occasionally snapping twigs underfoot, for all his training to be a ghost in the night.
The assassin paused carefully, pouring a small bottle of filmy liquid over the bolt, spreading it carefully with the use of his gloved hands. The Ranger's stalker shuddered at the thought of what the mixture would do if it contacted bare skin.
As the Ranger before him- Will, that was the boy's name- paused, surveying his surroundings, the assassin froze once more, pulling back into the trees. As the Ranger turned around again, facing away from the assassin, the man slid out of the cover, releasing the bolt from the crossbow.
The shot would have been magnificent, if it had flown correctly towards its target. Instead, the Ranger turned and stood in the midst of the shot, checking behind him for enemies once more. Instead of thudding into the middle of his back, right below the puppy where it had been intended, it thudded into his leg, sending the boy to his knees with a cry of pain.
"Halt!" Will shouted, his yell ringing through the forest as Ebony climbed loose from her sling. The dog stared in dismay as her master collapsed weakly to the ground. Instead of waiting to nose him impatiently, the dog sprinted off towards her master's friends, even as her master lay in the dirt, blood spreading below him as poison coursed through his veins.
Even as Will screamed again and an assassin slipped through the forest, fleeing the Rangers' wrath.
Author's Note: Like it? Hate it? Tell me! Leave a review! This is my first RA story, but expect many more. I'm hoping for six reviews on this first chapter, but I'll settle for just a handful!
Explanation: (if you're facing confusion) the Ranger's are playing a war game, where they pit against each other and see who survives. When "killed", they join the band of whoever killed them. Will was just shot by an unknown assassin. Ebony is the dog given to him at the end of Halt's Peril. (great book)
And yeah. Will just got poisoned. Can't wait for the angsty whumpage! Expect loads of it.
Oh yes, finally! Title suggestions?
Final note: A/N will be shorter. Chapters will be longer after this one