Chapter 2
A/N: Next chapter is up! I hope you enjoy. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, and reviewed. I do apologize for the time it took me to get this chapter out—I hope to not take quite so long next time, if I can. It's just been pretty hard to write lately… which rather stinks XD
Lala the Screaming Fangirl: There will definitely be a song about Gilan. I like him too X) Thanks for the review!
Meralyin: I'm sorry I took so long. Awww :3 Thanks so much for the kind words and the review. It totally made my day!
HogwartsApprentice: Thanks for the review- the compliments and the constructive criticism. I appreciate it. I made sure to fix Alyss's name. Also when it came to Horace, I defiantly see what you mean and I edited that part to fix it a little bit. I hope that it is now much more in character.
Chapter 2
The three Rangers and the knight met with Alyss's pigeon handler just before sunset after traveling steadily south of east for the better part of the day.
Will took the small scroll and read the note upon it that was written in Alyss's neat script.
"It says that we are to wait at the docks for the Scotti's diplomat in Brunswick instead of Devon. She says she got another boat captain to dock in Devon as a decoy to throw off the diplomat's enemies."
Halt nodded. "We knew as much already. Does it specify the time we need to be there?"
Will glanced at the note again, though he was already sure of the time.
"It says to be there four hours after mid-day."
"Late afternoon?" Halt asked, a little puzzled and then he shrugged.
He had been expecting the boat to arrive a mid-day. But if late afternoon was when Alyss said the boat would arrive, then that's when they would be there. Perhaps the late time was also part of the rouse to throw off the diplomat's attackers. It seemed logical if that were the case.
They traveled a little farther so that they were nearer Brunswick village before they made camp for the night. Halt set off to go hunt for supper and left the three young men to set up the camp and care for the horses.
When the three were finished setting up the little one man tents and the fire, they all sat down on the larger rocks inside the clearing to talk and tend their weapons.
Will picked a decent looking large rock near where his two friends had placed themselves. But the moment he lowered himself to sit, he let out a brief howl of pain. He leaped to his feet in an odd shuffling, hopping, sort of dance. His two friends looked up at him, concerned.
"Will?" Horace asked, "Will, are you alright?"
"No! I'm not alright!" Will continued his odd hopping about. "Get them out!"
"Get what out?" Horace asked, his voice pitched a little shrilly with confusion and worry.
It was Gilan who spotted the reason. He touched the knight's shoulder and pointed towards where Will had just sat down, a grin beginning to light his features. Horace followed the line of his pointing finger and then saw the tangle of thorny brambles that had been partially draped over the rock that Will had chosen as his seat.
It was just when Horace's eyes had widened in understanding that Will turned his back. Bent over as he was, it made the three long thorns sticking out of the seat of his breeches fairly obvious.
"Get them out! Get them out!" he repeated.
Horace moved immediately forwards to help his friend remove the thorns. Gilan, by that time could no longer hold in his amused chuckle. It burst forth from his lips and soon turned into full-blown almost helpless laughter.
Will rounded on him in a fury, knocking Horace slightly aside as he turned his head round from his bent forward position, his backside still facing the laughing Ranger.
"Stop it, Gil! It isn't funny!"
"It is from this direction," Gilan replied, his laughter redoubling, and this time he was joined by Horace. Will's own mouth twitched in spite of himself and soon his laughter was as helpless as theirs.
"Do you know what's even worse?" Will asked, in between laughs as he dug through his medical kit, "My salve is almost completely empty."
But as he said it, Gilan had already moved to his own kit and tossed Will his. Will went off into the woods then to spread the soothing and healing salve on the three small puncture wounds.
When he returned, he saw his two friends sitting placidly by the fire, the picture of innocence. They smiled a warm greeting at him. That was more than enough to make Will suspicious. He opened his mouth when Horace spoke.
"Come sit here Will." he beckoned to a place in between them. "We saved you a spot."
Will took a few reluctant steps forward and then glowered at his to so-called friends.
"Oh, very mature I'm sure, very funny," he said dryly once he had caught sight of the horse blanket that had been stuffed with dried leaves and pine needles until it made a sort of cushion.
Nevertheless, he sat upon it amidst the sound of his friends' raucous laughter, refusing to let them get the better of him. Besides, all things considered, it was indeed better than sitting on the hard ground. And when Halt returned to the camp and saw him sitting on a pillow, Will stolidly ignored his raised eyebrow. That only caused Gilan and Horace to laugh all the harder and once again Will couldn't help but join in after shaking his head in resignation.
The next morning they broke camp and then started traveling eastward again. And considering what had happened just the night before, Will should have expected that that wasn't going to be the end of it.
"Will," Gilan called from where he was stationed in the rear, "I think you forgot something."
As he said it, he tossed the pillow that he and Horace had made the night before to the knight who, grinning, tossed it to Will.
"Gil's right, the road is rather bumpy."
"But you're much heavier than me, Horace," Will said, catching the pillow. "You'd need it more," he called tossing it back.
"All three of you will need it if you don't stop behaving like children," Halt said warningly from the front. The pillow tossing stopped immediately, but the muffled snickering took a while longer.
Though Halt made an outward show of grimness, he was surprisingly actually enjoying himself. He liked the young men's energy and company. And it was obvious they enjoyed each other's company too. It had been a while since he'd seen the three of them enjoying themselves so much... which was ironic, considering what was going to happen that afternoon.
The four of them reached Brunswick village about an hour early. It was a quaint little town situated in a clearing in the woods that bordered the river. With no farmlands around, it was obvious that the little town survived on river trade. The river itself was fairly wide there and the docks were situated just outside the town limits. A wooden pier stretched out about four meters into the water. That was where the ship was going to dock according to Alyss's note.
At a nod from Halt, Will urged Tug to the side to go scout the area and woods around where the ship was going to make landing. It was just a formality. Will had full confidence in Alyss's ability to set this up without gaining any attention from the Scotti diplomat's enemies. That was why they were going to all this trouble after all. Alyss was extremely good at what she did. In fact, Alyss was probably one of the very best couriers that the kingdom had. He felt a smile growing on his face as he thought it... and thought of her.
He guided Tug though the trees, keeping his senses open to catch any sign of trouble. But he saw nothing. The area seemed clear. As he was heading back towards the pier, Tug looked up suddenly to sniff the air, trying to discern some foreign sent that would explain the slight sense of danger and unease he was feeling, but there was nothing.
"Worrywart," Will teased his horse.
There was absolutely nothing around them but pleasant sunny forest and woodland flowers. There were no fresh tracks or typical warning signs. Tug scented again and then rattled his mane. If a horse could be said to shrug then that was what Tug did as he failed to find any sound or scent to explain the sudden sense of danger he had felt— and then the sense itself began to fade away.
"Nothing?" Will asked grinning.
Tug rolled one reproachful eye back on him.
"Imagination getting the best of you?"
That's rich, coming from you.
Will let it drop at that. He knew that the little horse always worried about his safety. He also knew that, when it came to Tug, he would never be able to get the last word.
For a moment, Will entertained the idea of skirting the perimeter of the riverbank even further than he had— where the trees and brush grew more thickly off towards the east, but shrugged it off. The immediate area that they'd be in was clear. He scanned the area slowly and carefully to be sure, looking for any movements or signs of anybody's presence and saw nothing. with a slight shrug, he decided to leave it at that. As he had thought earlier, he trusted Alyss, and trusted her ability to set everything up.
Will left Tug with the other horses in the tree line, back near the village, before heading towards the pier where the others were waiting. They were standing near the end of the wooden planking. Halt was looking downriver and Gilan and Horace were discussing something. Will decided that it probably had to do with sword techniques when he saw Horace pass his shield over to Gilan pointing at it and miming a sword cut as he explained something.
Will wove his way through some wooden crates that were set atop the fairly narrow walkway. They were probably goods waiting to be either transported into the town or onto the next river boat. Without them, the pier would have been wide enough for six men to stand abreast.
"Anything?" Halt asked as Will made his way towards them.
Will shook his head. "Nothing."
But he was wrong; hidden unfriendly eyes were watching them. They were eyes belonging to men who had positioned themselves further off to the east where the trees grew more thickly to screen them and where the wind would not carry their scent whilst they waited in ambush. These men were capable assassins, and knew well how to make themselves a part of the background.
The tall Ranger and the knight moved so that they were standing nearly side by side with Will and Halt, Gilan still holding Horace's shield.
"What about on your end?" Will asked.
"The river master said that there has already been one boat that arrived today. And he did receive word that another one will be arriving this afternoon, whether or not that's the Scotti's boat, I'm not sure. Their communication systems aren't exactly state of the art," Halt snorted slightly.
They had turned as they talked so that they were facing away from the river. Will looked towards the little shack on the riverbank that belonged to the river master. Something, suddenly didn't feel right. There was something wrong. He was about to turn back towards Halt when he saw Gilan glance absently up towards the tree line in the east.
The tall Ranger stiffened and Will saw his eyes widen. Then he moved, pushing Will to the ground even as he kicked backwards at Horace's leg so he too fell to the pier's planking. In the same motion, Gilan had thrown Horace's shield spinning upright in front of Halt before attempting to duck himself. Almost instantaneously, arrows came seemingly out of nowhere. They whizzed though the empty space where Horace and Will had just been standing, and an arrow slammed into the thrown shield while it was still airborne and in front of Halt's chest. It clattered to the ground.
The whole thing had happened so fast that Will knew he would have missed everything had he blinked. He stared up in amazement at his friend's lightning reaction, but just as quickly realized that there was something amiss. Gilan had gasped softly and wavered before he had had the chance to get down properly. He stood there in a near daze. Will realized, with a twisting feeling in his chest, that he had gotten hit.
But before he could even reach to pull Gilan down, he saw something that would haunt his memories for years. Another bolt arched out of the air and slammed into the tall Ranger. This time, the blow caused him to stagger backwards, straight off the edge of the pier. Will reached out desperately for his hand to try and catch his friend. Shocked and wide-eyed, Gilan managed to reach out for Will's hand in return as he fell— but it was too late. Gilan—the feathered ends of arrows protruding from his upper chest, shoulder, and arm— was folded into the water's cold embrace. Will stared in horror as Gilan resurfaced several seconds later, floating apparently lifeless and face down, carried swiftly by the current.
"Gilan!" Will screamed in horror filled agony; but that horror and agony was soon replaced with a feeling of boiling over rage.
In that moment he knew what it meant to see red. His eyes swiveled in the direction that the shots had come from. He picked out the emery archers by their movement. They were concealed in hides they had made in the trees fringing the river, hides that he had missed seeing earlier.
His hands had already chosen an arrow from his quiver. It practically leaped onto his bowstring. Heedless of the danger and lost in a red fury, he fired arrow after arrow into the spot where the crossbowmen were concealed. He shot faster than he ever had before. Several cries of pain sounded from the hides in the trees but Will did not even hear them.
Horace only just managed to catch his friend by his tunic and drag him behind the cover of some of the crates that rested on the docks where he and Halt were crouching. More crossbow bolts flew past where Will had just been.
"Get down! What are you doing? Do you have a death wish?" Horace demanded, his shouted words snapping Will out the mindless rage.
"Gil," Will managed to gasp out helplessly.
Halt caught his gaze, then glanced at where the archers were concealed and then back towards the river.
"Go get him," Halt said finally, his voice sounding a little strained and decidedly gruff to Will's ears. "Horace and I will cover for you."
Will felt his moment of blind fury calm further as he caught sight of Halt's steady gaze. The older Ranger selected an arrow and readied his bow.
More crossbow quarrels flew overhead. As soon as they passed, Halt nodded, knowing it would take the men some time to reload their crossbows.
"Now," he shouted, rising from his crouch to shoot at the crossbowmen, pinning them down long enough for Will to break free, cross the peer at a run, and then make the cover of the trees.
He moved through the trees and brush, following the river path, his eyes seeking for any sign of his friend in the water. Soon he was well out of the crossbowmen's range. As he raced parallel to the river, he saw that it split into a little tributary ahead of him. It was much smaller than the main river, but also much faster moving. He could just make out a run of rapids from his position. His heart sank slightly as he realized that the current Gilan had first gotten caught in would have pushed him directly into this deathly fast moving tributary. He increased his speed.
~x~X~x~
Gilan regained consciousness and spluttered, coughing and gasping as he tried to keep his head above water. He had hit his head on something when he had fallen into the river and that, coupled with the shock and pain of being shot, had caused him to lose consciousness for a moment. The world seemed to spin around him as he was pushed by the current.
But, despite the shock of it all, he could see that the river branched ahead of him. The larger branch continued on as it was, but the smaller one cut its way through rocks. It was narrow and much faster running. He thought he could even hear the inexorable crash of rapids. Worst of all, he realized dully that the current was pushing him in just that direction. Desperately, he tried to stroke towards shore and away from the current's pull.
Gilan had always been a strong swimmer, but hindered by the pain and shock, he wasn't strong or fast enough to get to the riverbank before he was dragged into the ceaseless current of the smaller branch. The water frothed and roiled around him as he was swept out of control at a pace that almost rivaled that of a galloping horse.
It was all he could do to keep himself afloat. Sharp rocks jutted from the stream-bed and he was dashed against them. A few of those rocks broke the surface and he tried to catch several of these. But they were covered with a slimy algae and he couldn't get a firm enough grip to withstand the strength of the current. All he got for his efforts were torn and bleeding hands as the press of the water strove to pull him down and keep him under.
He gasped for breath, and choked, stifling a cry as he was slammed into yet another rock. Water was in his mouth, his nose, his ears, and eyes. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, could only hear the crash and roar of water. Black splotches began to assail his vision.
Dimly, he made out the form of a large rock jutting out ahead of him before he was pushed under again. When he resurfaced, he used the last of his remaining strength to catch a hold of the boulder. He found purchase in a jagged fracture that ran the rock's length. Finally he stopped, the current pressing him into the crack he had so desperately caught hold of and wedging him firmly. The water battered at him, pressing about him like some crushing weight while wavelets splashed against, and collided with, his face. Then his world went dark again.
~x~X~x~
Will scanned the river ahead of him as he ran, his feverish gaze picking out anything that jutted above the frothing surface of the water. For several dreadful moments, all he could see were the tips of rocks and boulders. Then he caught a flash of green and grey pressed against the surface of one of the lager rocks where the current slowed a little.
"Gilan!" Will cried as he sprinted forwards. Then he stopped, turned and ran in the opposite direction. The current was far too fast and strong for him to swim across towards his friend, he knew. So he ran along the bank further upstream before plunging into the water, gasping at the cold. He struck out at an angle, heading towards the middle as the current pushed him downstream. He reached the rock and just managed to catch a hold of it, so that he clung side by side with where his unconscious friend had wedged himself or had been wedged by the current.
For a few horrifying moments, Gilan seemed to be held fast, but he finally came free. Will tried to swim for shore then as he was dragged further and further downstream. Gilan's dead weight nearly pulled him under several times. Then the current began to slow further, it was just a little, but it was enough. He swallowed a mouthful of water as he desperately stroked with all the strength he had towards the bank.
Every muscle ached and his lungs burned. Then he felt his feet touch bottom. He was dragged still further until he found purchase and firm footing. He pulled himself and his friend ashore, laying him down on the rocks and sand of the bank before collapsing to his knees beside him, alternately coughing and panting heavily with exertion. When he caught his breath enough to function again, he turned to the other Ranger who was lying motionless.
Gilan's hair was plastered limply to his head and stained a darker color than normal from the water. His clothes were in a similar state; but what was truly alarming were the red ribbons that trailed from his still form and back into the river, turning pink as they were diffused by the water.
There were many other spots on him that were beginning to take on that same ominous red stain— no doubt from where he had been bashed and cut by the sharp rocks and boulders in the rapid run. Will winced as he reached a tentative hand towards him.
"Gilan?" he asked quietly.
And that was the moment that Will realized that he wasn't breathing.
~x~X~x~
Halt quickly ducked behind cover as several more quarrels flew overhead and slammed into the crate that he and Horace were currently sheltering behind. The river master was either dead or lying low. By now, the Scotti's boat should have arrived. But, considering all that had happened, Halt doubted that it was going to. He knew a set up when he saw one.
There were only four enemies left: but that was more than enough to keep them pinned down. It would be far too dangerous for Halt to try and rise from his crouch to shot again. All their focus was pinpointed on him.
The grizzled Ranger looked towards the knight, whose face clearly showed his frustration with the whole situation and the fact that, armed as he was without any ranged weapons, he wasn't in any sort of position to fight back. Halt, for his part, was just as frustrated. He needed to get out of this situation as soon as possible. He couldn't afford to stay pinned down like this— the life of one of his apprentices could well be at stake, he knew. His eyes looked in the direction of the enemy with a single minded purpose and then narrowed suddenly.
"Do you think you can make it to that crate over there?" Halt asked Horace, gesturing to one that was further forward and across from the place where they now crouched. "I need someone to draw their attention."
The knight considered seriously and then nodded. He prepared himself and then moved. He leaped out from behind cover and then rolled swiftly behind the shelter of the other crate. The crossbowmen took the bait, like Halt had hoped, and focused their attention on the young knight. They moved to train their bows on him and shoot. This left them open to Halt's counter attack, two more of the enemy archers fell, and the remaining two crept backwards, down the tree from the back, and ran. Halt and Horace waited a moment, just to make sure that the threat was truly gone before they rose from behind cover. As one, they headed down the pier, hurrying in the direction that Will had taken only moments before.
~x~X~x~
"Gilan?" Will asked again, his voice cracking slightly with the beginnings of fear. He gently patted Gilan's cheek, trying to get some sort of response. But there was nothing. A twisting feeling of horror, panic, and dread began to take hold inside him. He was momentarily helpless at the sight. His mind froze, refusing to believe what had happened.
"Gil?" he asked again, desperation making his voice rise in pitch. He leaned forward, shaking him. Gilan couldn't be dead, he just couldn't. Ever since he had first become a Ranger, Gilan had been almost a constant presence. To Will he was a larger than life figure, like Halt. In fact, Gilan had a claim to his respect that was second only to Halt. He couldn't be dead. It was just impossible.
He had always been there with that easygoing grin on his face. Like Halt, he always seemed to know what to do, and always seemed to know whenever Will was wrestling with some problem or other. He'd always been there to offer a word of encouragement or advice, a laugh or a smile. Gilan was his friend, he was his family… he was his brother. Will couldn't even imagine losing him, couldn't imagine living without him.
Then he realized, with cold clarity, that he wouldn't have to imagine. That realization made his throat start to close up with a building sense of pain, grief, and loss as tears spilled down his cheeks.
"Gilan, wake up!" the agony wrought cry was torn from his lips. "Please wake up. I need… I can't lose…" his words were cut short as he found himself unable to speak past the lump in his throat.
There had to be something he could do ,something to fix this, something to bring him back because this just couldn't be, it couldn't. But he couldn't think of what to do, he didn't know what he could do and the roaring sound of the water caught in the rapids wasn't helping him think… water…
Suddenly, Will found a decisive course of action to take and seized onto it. He turned his friend onto his side and watched a small amount of water flow out of his mouth. That had to be why he could not breathe.
In reality, it had not even been minute since he had pulled Gilan from the river. But to him it felt like hours. Time seemed to stay slowed as he desperately tried to think of a way to get the rest of the water out. And then he had it. He bent over Gilan then, trying to lift him.
~x~X~x~
Halt and Horace had begun to make their way through the woods at a quick pace. Halt stopped suddenly as an anguished cry seemed to echo through the trees. Horace stopped too, his face paling.
"That sounded like Will," he said and Halt nodded, turning to face the origin of the sound, and then setting out at and even faster pace.
The two arrived at the riverbank in time to see Will kneeling, and bent partially over a limp form that he was cradling. He looked up at the sound of Horace and Halt's approach and the expression on his face chilled both the knight and the older Ranger.
"Help me," Will said desperately, his voice catching. And it was then that they could see what it was that he held: the sodden and apparently lifeless body of Gilan. "He isn't breathing."
Halt and Horace raced forwards to kneel beside them. Halt realized what it was that Will was trying to do and Horace was only moments behind him. They helped Will lift Gilan up further and turn him over so that the upper half of his body was hanging slightly upside down.
"Come on, Gilan," Halt muttered, his voice gentle but taught, "don't give up on it yet."
As they moved, Will found himself thinking that, if this didn't work, he could try to breathe air into Gilan's lungs himself. Once they him into the position he wanted, Halt turned to Horace, instructing him to hit Gilan's back. Water spewed out of his mouth and he dragged in a gasping, shuddering, breath, whilst they let out theirs in sheer relief.
Gilan fell into a racking coughing fit as his body tried to expel the last vestiges of water from his lungs. After that finally subsided, he retched out still more river water. Halt gently eased him back down then, settling him on his back.
Gilan's dazed eyes stared ahead in shock as he reached a hand towards his upper chest, feeling the wood shaft embedded there. Will thought he saw a flash of fear mingle with the exhaustion and pain in the tall Ranger's eyes.
"Damn," Gilan breathed as he feebly tried to clutch at the broken bolt. Halt caught his trembling hand and moved it gently away from the wound. "Halt…" he muttered weakly, his eyes beginning to cloud still further.
"Just stay still," Halt said, gripping Gilan's hand. "Horace, build a fire and set my knife in it. Will, go bring the horses and the medical supplies. We need to get those arrows out."
The two moved quickly off to do Halt's bidding. All Will could feel as he headed off was relieved gratitude; Halt would know what to do. Halt always knew what to do. Gilan would be alright— he had to be. Once Will had returned with the supplies and the horses, he was forced to calm a near frantic Blaze before he stood anxiously over Horace who was attempting to get Gilan's tunic and shirt off.
"Will," Halt startled him from his worried thoughts, "while Horace and I get the arrows out, I need you to cut two sturdy branches tall enough to build a litter out of. We can't risk staying here any longer then we have to. There may be more men coming to stop us. Considering how things have turned out, I doubt that they would risk leaving us alive if they could help it. We know too much. Not only that, but they attempted to kill King's Rangers and a knight and failed. They won't be able to let it go at that."
By then, Horace had finished removing Gilan's tunic and shirt and the knife that Halt had placed in the fire was obviously very hot. Halt grabbed it by the hilt while Will set down the bandages, herbs and salve he had taken from the medical kit. Halt knelt by the only partially conscious Ranger's side. He closed his eyes for a moment as he gathered himself then nodded once at Horace.
"Hold him down please," he said softly and Horace moved to do so, his face pinched with anxious concern.
"Ready?" Halt asked and Horace nodded.
Will watched for a moment feeling utterly helpless, wanting and yet not wanting to be the one in Horace's place. Realizing that he wasn't helping by just standing there doing nothing, he turned to go get the branches Halt had asked for. As he left the clearing, he strove to close his ears to his friend's broken cry of pain as Halt used the knife to remove the bolt from his chest. Will dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands as he clenched his fists. He felt sick. He was grateful, in an odd sort of way, when Gilan fell ultimately silent after slipping mercifully into unconsciousness.
As he scoured the woods for branches, all Will could think was that something had gone terribly wrong. They had come here on a straightforward mission to protect a diplomat and had instead found an ambush— an ambush that had definitely been prepared well in advance for them. Now the Scotti's diplomat was without protection and her whereabouts were unknown. But more than that, somebody had known the details of their mission and that somebody wanted them dead.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Feedback is super appreciated. Please let me know if you think there is something I can improve on. So no new songs this time, I was mainly focused on building the conflict, but next time there will be—scouts honor XD There will probably be 2-3 chapters left. I got some of my inspiration for this chapter from white water rafting trips I've been on- I love it. I don't know how much white water there is in Araluen (aside from Wild River) so I took some creative licence, but I hope none of you mind.
Side note: CPR wasn't really invented until the 1700's (by The Paris Academy of Sciences) which was why I didn't have Will use that method first- despite it being a better way to resuscitate a drowning victim—Though, John Flanagan's world really does not follow our own exactly when it comes to history—so the Rangers could know about it—Idk. I could definitely change it if any of you think it would be better… I am unfortunately a little bit of a history nerd *sheepish smile*
