"Bring her forward!" Ragnak's massive voice boomed painfully in the low ceilings of the hall. Evanlyn shrank back instinctively, then recovered as Halt touched her arm and met her eyes with a reassuring smile. Straightening her shoulders, she stepped forward, stopping before Ragnak's raised dais.

She met the Oberjarl's glower with a calm, composed expression. She'd become a very good actor, Will thought. As good as he, if not better. Slagor, standing beside Ragnak, signaled to a pair of attendants by a side door. "Bring in the slave." In contrast to Ragnak's ear-splitting bellow, his vocie was soft and silky. He sounds very pleased with the current turn of events, Will thought with a surge of anger.

The two men Slager had called opened the door and dragged in a protesting, weeping figure. She was a middle-aged woman, her hair graying and her face lined before its time with the strain of unending labor, poor food, and the threat of constant punishment that was the lost of a slave in Hallasholm. They cast her down on the floor in front of Evanlyn, where she crouched there miserably, unwilling to look up.

"Look up, slave," Slagor said in that soft voice. Will found he hated it more every time he heard it. The woman continued sobbing, shaking her head, her eyes still cast down on the floor. Slagor moved quickly, stepping down from the platform and drawing his saxe knife in one smooth movement. He held the razor-sharp blade at her throat, pressing it in with a force that almost broke the skin. "I said, 'look up,'" he repeated.

As she finally looked up, her eyes met Evanlyn's and her sobbing grew louder.

"Shut up," Slagor said. "Shut up that noise and tell the Oberjarl what you told me."

Looking over her again, Will realized with a pang that she'd been beaten, and harshly. From the way she held herself, it was obvious that she was in a lot of pain. Vague, flitting images passed through his mind and new sympathy welled up for her as he remembered similar occurrences happening to him.

"I'm sorry, my lady," she said, voice breaking. The entire hall grew quieter to hear her. "They beat me until I told."

Evanlyn might've been a good actor, but even she couldn't help the involuntary step she took towards the slave. But Slagor's knife swung up and around to confront her and stop her from coming closer, so she stopped.

Beside him, Horace's hand dropped to his sword hilt once more. Knowing how much of a disaster that would be, Will quickly put a hand over it and shook his head when the cadet's surprised gaze fell on him. From what he knew of the Skandians, drawing a weapon in this tense atmosphere would invite war, and even the looming threat of the Temujai wouldn't save them from being killed.

Although Will wasn't certain Halt was going to be able to get them out of this, he figured he should try and give his master some of the trust he'd used to give freely to Halt, back in Araluen. In any case, Will had no idea what to do, nor would he have said anything if he did. Back in Halt's apartment, he'd strictly instructed them not to say anything or do anything until he said so. Will might have been screwed up, but even he wouldn't dream of disobeying his master in a matter of this importance.

Slagor turned back to the woman on the floor. "Tell the Oberjarl," he repeated. When she said nothing, Slagor turned to Ragnak in exasperation. "My head slave overheard her talking to some of the others," he explained. "She's Araluen originally and she said she recognized this girl here-" he jerked a thumb in Evanlyn's direction -"as the Princess Cassandra, Duncan's daughter."

Ragnak's eyes narrowed and he turned slightly to inspect Evanlyn, whose chin went up and back straightened under his gaze. "She does have something of the look of Duncan about her," he said suspiciously.

"No! No! I was mistaken!" the slave burst out. "Now that I see her close, I realize I was wrong, Lord Slagor. I was mistaken!"

'Lord'? Will thought in disgust. What an entitled bastard.

"You called her 'my lady,'" Slagor reminded her.

"It was mistake, that was all. A mistake. Now I see her properly, I can tell it's not her," she insisted.

Slagor regarded her with a pained expression that would've looked real if Will hadn't known how despicable of a person the sea captain really was. "She's lying, Oberjarl. I'll have my men beat the truth out of her." He signalled the two men again and one of them came forward, uncoiling a short, thick whip as he came. The woman cringed away from him, and despite himself, so did Will.

"No! Please, my lord, please!" her voice, shrill with fear, penetrated deep into Will and he suddenly felt nauseous. He'd never begged while being whipped- never- but the desperation and the fear resonated with how he'd felt every time he'd been whipped.

The man raised the whip.

"Leave her alone!" Evanlyn cried, her composed facade crumbling. She seemed to suddenly become so much smaller, a defeated expression on her face. "All right," she said quietly. "There's no need to torture her further. I'm Cassandra."

The silence in the room seemed almost like a physical force, but nowhere was it stronger than inside Will's head. Now that her identity was revealed, he couldn't see any possible way that Halt could save her. No, he knew, now he would be forced to watch the girl who'd become a friend and a sister and more get killed. In front of him. With her dead, his only confidant would be gone. All of a sudden, he felt so lonely that he shivered. If Evanlyn died, he'd be all alone, with no one to turn to for help.

Around him, Will dimly registered the word Vallasvow from several different sources.

"Silence!" Ragnak roared. He rose and moved forward to confront Evanlyn, glaring down at her. "You are Duncan's daughter?"

She hesitated. Will could sense the fear rising within her. Be strong, Evanlyn, he pleaded. He didn't know how, but he had to try and save her. Life simply wouldn't be worth living without her- was hardly worth living even now.

"I am King Duncan's daughter. Cassandra, Princess of Araluen."

"Then you are my enemy," Ragnak replied. "And I've sworn that you should die."

Erak stepped forward. "And I've sworn that she will be safe here, Oberjarl," he said. "I gave my word when I asked the Ranger to help us." Will felt a sudden deep depth of gratitude for the jarl.

"I am Oberjarl," Ragnak said angrily. "My vow is of greater importance."

Erak folded his arms across his chest. "Not to me it isn't," he responded, and Will was surprised to hear a chorus of agreement from the crowd.

"Erak cannot defy you like this! You are Oberjarl!" Slagor interjected. Will was seriously tempted to use his saxe knife to throw at him- and this time, there wouldn't be a wooden keg in the way. "Have him imprisoned! He is defying your vow to the Vallas!"

"Shut up, Slagor," Erak told him in an ominously calm voice. Then he readdressed himself to Ragnak. "I didn't ask you to take your death vow, Ragnak. But if you want to carry it out, I'm afraid you'll have to go through me to do it."

Ragnak stepped down from his podium and walked closer to where Erak stood. Will noticed how alike they were in terms of height and physical proportions- nearly identical. "Erak, did you know? Did you know who she was when you brought her here?"

Erak shook his head.

"Of course he knew!" Slagor cried, then stopped suddenly as the point of Erak's dagger appeared under his nose.

"I'll allow that once," Erak told him. "Say it again and you're a dead man."

Wordlessly, Slagor backed away from the bigger man, careful to put a safe distance between himself and the knife point. Erak sheathed the dagger and turned back to face Ragnak. "I didn't know," he said. "Otherwise I would never have brought her here, knowing of your vow. But the fact remains, I vouched for her safety and my word is all-important to me, as is yours to you."

"Damn and blast it, Erak!" Ragnak shouted. The crowd held in a shocked breath, even though Ragnak's outbursts couldn't have been that uncommon. "The Temujai are only three or four days' march from here! We can't afford to be fighting amongst ourselves now!"

"It would be a shame if you had to face the Temujai with at least one, and possibly both, of your best leaders dead," Halt put in mildly. Will had no idea how making Ragnak angrier was going to help matters, but he'd already sworn silence to the Ranger; now he just had to hope his master knew what he was doing.

"Shut up, Ranger!" Ragnak snarled. "I'm of half a mind to believe that this is all your doing! No good ever came of dealing with your kind!"

Halt shrugged, looking completely unimpressed. "Be that as it may, it occurs to me that there might be a solution to your problem, at least for the time being."

Ragnak looked at the Ranger with narrowed eyes. Will could tell he was suspicious and most likely expecting Halt to trick him. In all honesty, Will was expecting Halt to trick him. "What are you talking about? My vow is binding upon me."

Halt nodded. "I understand that, but is there any time factor involved?"

It took Will longer than it should have, but in a flash, he understood.

"Time factor?" Ragnak asked, apparently even slower than Will. The boy wondered with a hint of mirth if Ragnak had also had a stint on warmweed, to slow his brain functions that much. "How do you mean?"

"If we accept that you plan to do your best to kill Evanlyn, knowing that Erak will try to stop you when you do- not to mention the fact that if he doesn't, I most certainly will- have you vowed that you'll do it at any particular time?"

The puzzled expression on the Oberjarl's face grew more intense. "No. I didn't specify any time. I just made the vow," he said finally. Halt nodded several times.

"Good. So, as far as these Vallas are concerned, they don't care whether you try to fulfill your vow today or if you choose to wait until, say, after we've sent the Temujai packing?"

Understanding was finally beginning to dawn on Ragnak's face. It was about time, too, in Will's opinion. "That's right," he said slowly. "As long as the intent is there, the Vallas will be satisfied."

"No!" Slagor's voice was shrill now; Will decided he liked that tone even less. "Can't you see, Oberjarl, he's trying to trick you? He has something in mind. The girl must die and she must die now! Otherwise your sworn word is worthless!"

Will drew in a breath. Slagor had gone too far, he knew, and as Ragnak turned his furious gaze to the ship captain, everyone else in the room realized it, too.

"Slagor," he said dangerously, "I would advise you to get rid of this reckless habit of telling your peers that they are liars."

"Of course, Oberjarl," Slagor attempted to mend quickly, "I didn't mean-"

"My first concern is for the safety of Skandia. With these Temujai on our doorstep, Erak and I cannot afford to be fighting. If he'll agree to postpone our differences until after we've settled with them, then I will too."

Erak nodded agreement instantly. "It sounds like a good compromise to me."

But Will could see that Ragnak wasn't finished yet. He still looked suspicious, and as his gaze fell on Halt, the boy realized he was suspicious of the Ranger.

"I can't help wondering what's in it for you, Ranger. All you've done is win a postponement."

Halt inclined his head. "True, but a lot can happen in the next few days. You might be killed in the battle. Or Erak. Or me. Or all three of us. Besides that, my immediate priority is the same as yours: to see these Temujai driven back. After all, if they win here, it won't be long before they're invading Araluen as well. I have a sworn duty to try to prevent that." He smiled grimly. "That's another of those vows that we all seem to rush around taking. Damned nuisances, aren't they?"

Apparently either unimpressed or not understanding Halt's sarcasm, Ragnak turned and stepped back up the dais, settling into his massive council chair. "We're agreed then," he said. "We'll settle the Temujai question first, then we'll come back to this problem."

With shared nods, Erak and Halt turned to leave. Halt took Evanlyn's arm and began to guide her from the Great Hall, followed by Will, Horace, and Erak. Will's brow furrowed, wondering if Halt had forgotten Slagor's betrayal, when Halt turned back to Ragnak. "Of course," he said mildly, "there is one more question that I'd like to hear Slagor answer."

Everyone in the room instantly glanced at Slagor. Then, when all eyes were on him, Halt continued, "perhaps he could tell us what his ships are doing at Fallkork Island?"

"Can you, Ranger?" Slagor spat, saying the last word as if it were an insult. "Can you show some kind of proof?"

Will saw Halt's hesitation. He didn't answer, and Will knew that he had to speak up now. Screw his vow of silence to Halt. His brain might be slower than he'd like, but he could still think up a solution well enough. He pushed through the crowd to stand beside Halt. "There is a way."

The entire hall fell silent. Every gaze turned to the small apprentice, standing between Halt and Erak.

"How?" Ragnak asked simply.

"Well, Slagor's ships at this island, taken on their own, may be no proof of his intention to sell out to the Temujai," he said carefully, thinking through each word. When he got nervous, he tended to slur his speech, and that was something he definitely didn't want to do now. "But if Erak took Wolfwind to this Sand Creek Bay, and if they happened to find, say, a hundred and fifty Temujai warriors waiting there to embark...it's a fair indication that someone is planning to betray you, isn't it?"

Ragnak frowned as he thought that through. To Will's left, Erak muttered, "good thinking, boy."

"That's true," Ragnak said finally. "It shows there's treachery been planned. But who's to say Slagor's involved?"

Will was the one to hesitate this time, unable to think of an answer. This time, Halt was the one to reply. "Oberjarl, there's a simple way to find out. Let Erak take not one ship, but three. After all, that's the number the Temujai are expecting to see. Then he can speak with the leader of any Temujai who might happen to be there and tell them that Slagor has been detained and has sent him in his place. If the Temujai leader responds with words along the lines of 'who the devil is Slagor?' then our friend here is as innocent as he claims to be."

He paused. Will saw Ragnak was nodding. "On the other hand," he continued deliberately, "if the name Slagor seems familiar to the enemy, then there is all the proof you need."

"This is ridiculous!" Slagor, predictably, burst out. "I swear to you, Oberjarl, that I am not traitor to Skandia! This is a plot cooked up by these Araluens. And somehow they seem to have tricked Erak into believing it."

"If you're innocent," Ragnak said heavily, "then you have nothing to fear from all this, do you?"

Will noticed perspiration began to break out on the captain's forehead.

"I don't see any reason why-"

"I do!" Ragnak snapped, interrupting Slagor. "Erak, take three ships to Sand Creek Bay immediately and do as the Ranger suggests. Once you've established whether or not Slagor is involved in this plot, get back here and report. As for you," he turned to Slagor, "don't try to go anyhwere. I want you where I can see you until Erak returns. Ulfak, see to it!" Ulfak, presumably one of his senior jarls, nodded and moved to stand beside Slagor.

"One thing, Oberjarl," Erak said, making the Skandian leader turn to him again. "Once I've established that Slagor is involved, is it all right if we reduce the Temujai numbers a little? That'll be a few less we have to fight here, at least."

"Good idea," Ragnak said, "but don't take any risks. I need to know the traitor's identity and you can't tell me that if the Temujai kill you."

An idea had slowly been forming in Will's head throughout that last part of the discussion, and before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Why no' go 'head withe plan they're 'specting?" His cheeks flamed as laughter lit up the halls. Ever since the warmweed, he'd found it harder to talk clearly, and now he was paying for that. Clearing his throat, he tried again, "why not go ahead with the plan they're expecting?"

Now, the Skandian leader looked at him as if he were mad. "Are you out of your mind? Are you suggesting that Erak actually brings the Temujai back here as prisoners? We'd have to subdue them and guard them and that would take men away from our own battle line."

Will carefully refrained from saying that, if left to their own devices, those men would be a hundred and fifty more people that could possibly endanger that battle line, instead turning to Erak. "Not back here. Couldn't you find some pretext to make them get off the ships at this Fallkork island- then just leave them there?"

Another silence. This time, Erak started laughing, but not the kind of laugh that made Will feel embarrassed. "Oh, what a prize idea!" he said, grinning fondly at Will. "If we take these horsemen through the Vulture Narrows, I'm sure we can have them begging to get ashore for a few hours. The seas there are terrible at this time of year- guaranteed to make any inexperienced sailors seasick!"

Ragnak rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I take it these Temujai are unused to sailing?"

If they decided they had to defeat Skandia in order to even get ships, Will thought, it's probably a sign that they don't sail that much.

Halt nodded. If he had any sarcastic remarks, he didn't say them. "Totally, Oberjarl."

Ragnak turned from Halt to Will. "This boy of yours shows a certain talent for the sort of devious thinking we expect from you Rangers." Will decided that the flaming pink on his cheeks was, in fact, from the heat of the hall. Not from anything else.

Halt dropped a hand lightly on Will's shoulder and said, with a completely straight face, "We're very proud of him, Oberjarl. We think he'll go far."

Warmth bloomed in his chest for the first time he could remember in a very long time. It didn't matter that Halt's tone was completely matter-of-fact or that his face belied his words. Will had never, never, heard such a compliment from Halt in his life. Even if part of it was just putting on a show for Ragnak, Will refused to believe that it was a lie. Halt's touch, warm on his shoulder, was too real to be a lie. If Halt weren't telling the truth, he wouldn't make it that personal.

Unbidden, a deep feeling of guilt overwhelmed him, for although Halt might not be lying, Will most certainly was. Even though he'd hesitate to say that Halt cared for him deeply, he knew that there was something between them- something that had driven Halt to make his promise to Will as he'd stood on that beach last year. And the knowledge that he was hurting someone whom he cared for and who seemed to care for him back- that knowledge hurt.

"Get your ships ready and go," Ragnak was saying dismissively. "Then dump these Temujai on Fallkork Island and get back here." He obviously seemed to think the matter was finished, but Slagor didn't share that sentiment and voiced one last, desperate objection.

"Oberjarl! These are the people who accuse me! They're all in it together! You can't send them to verify their own charges!"

Ragnak hesitated. "Fair point. Borsa, you go with them as an independent witness." Then, turning his gaze to Slagor, he concluded, "and as for you, you'd better hope there are no Temujai at Sand Creek Bay."

"Position two...shoot!"

"Shields!" Horace bellowed. Beside each archer, a foot soldier stepped forward with a rectangular wooden shield held on his left arm, positioned to cover both himself and the archer as he reloaded. It had been Horace's idea, and a damn good one at that. Will was unwilling to lose any of his hundred archers to the Temujai return fire they were sure to mount once they encountered opposition.

He glanced around, making sure the archer were ready for the next shot, then turned back to the practice field, searching for the next target to appear.

There! As the team of men behind him hauled on a set of ropes, another flat board swung up out of the grass. But he had nearly missed the movement waiting to see if the archers were ready.

Inwardly cursing his slowed brain functions, he fought a twinge of panic. Things were moving too fast. He wasn't ready- didn't even feel whole anymore.

"Clear! Half right! Position three...shoot!"

"Shields!" Horace called again.

"Come on, come on," Will muttered, shifting restlessly as the men selected new arrows and nocked them to the string. For a Ranger who'd been trained to nock, aim, and release within seconds, the waiting period was interminably slow. The archers, sensing his urgency, began to hurry, but the extra haste made for clumsiness. Will kept in an exasperated sigh as three of them dropped the arrows and many others fumbled around like beginners.

Frustrated, Will realized he'd have to go with the men who were ready. He swung his gaze back to the target, but the men on the ropes were hauling it in so that it slid toward them on its sled-like runners, matching the speed of an enemy advance. The range had closed too quickly for him to make an instant assessment. In the time that he'd been watching his men, he'd lost his concentration and his sense of the battlefield.

"Stand down!" he called. "Everyone take a break."

He angrily flopped down to the ground, sure that a normal person wouldn't have had a problem with this- a normal person would've been able to keep going between the two groups. He had to face it: he was disabled, perhaps permanently. The thought was just as humiliating as it had been the first time it had come to him, the day after he'd woken up from the warmweed.

"What's the trouble?" Horace asked. Will wanted to snap at him, but he didn't want to lose one of his only friends- plus, snapping was not a thing Old Will did, and Will tried very hard to emulate Old Will as much as possible.

He shrugged, forcing a little bit of a smile. He wanted to act defeated, but again- not an Old Will thing. "Can't keep track of the targets and the men at the same time. Guess I've lost my touch. You'll have to watch the men and tell me when they're ready."

Horace frowned. "First, now that I think about it, watching both sides would be really difficult. I don't think it's you losing your touch. And secondly, I could...but on the day, I think I'm going to be a little busy shielding you from any return shots. I really need to keep my eye on the enemy, too. Unless you want to be turned into a pincushion."

Will felt a vague sense of amusement at the last sentence before it was swallowed up with anger- at himself, of course, but he wasn't going to say that. "Well, someone's going to have to do it! We haven't even begun to practice against the Kaijin and the whole thing's falling apart!" Then he realized that was, most certainly, not a thing Old Will would say, and wished he could take it back.

"I could do it," Evanlyn interjected. Will turned to her, surprised. He'd completely forgotten she was there. "I could do it," she repeated. "I could keep an eye on the archers and call when they're ready."

"But that'll put you in the battle line!" Horace objected instantly. "It'll be dangerous!"

Will said nothing, considering. Yes, it'd be dangerous, but Will needed someone to help him. There was, arguably, no one he trusted more than Evanlyn- in some ways, he trusted her more than even Halt, considering how he had told Evanlyn much more than he was ever planning on telling Halt.

"The archers aren't actually in the front line," Evanlyn was saying, "You'll be behind it, and protected by a trench and an earth mound. You could build me a kind of a dugout at the end, beneath your command position. I'd be safe from arrows there; after all, I don't need to see the enemy, just our men."

"But what if the Temujai break through our line?" Horace said. "You'll be right in the middle of it, then!"

Evanlyn shrugged. "If the Temujai break through, it won't matter where I am. We'll all be dead. Besides, if everyone else is taking a risk, why shouldn't I?"

Horace looked like there was something he very much wanted to say, but refrained. Instead, sighing, he turned to Will. "What do you think, Will?" from his tone, he obviously expected the apprentice Ranger to agree with him, and was a little surprised when Will took a while to respond.

"I think," he said slowly, "she may be right. Let's try it."

A/N: just so you guys know, this fic is basically the same as Battle for Skandia- at first. By changing one axiom in the entire story, most things won't be affected at first, but it's a ripple effect: slowly, more and more stuff will change as the consequences of Will's actions spread. First, Will's mental health will be affected, then Evanlyn's. After that, people around them will slowly be changed and relationships will begin to twist- either to become more intimate, or more damaged, depending on the other person and how close Will or Evanlyn were to them in the first place. Then, it will begin to affect their actions, which could very well change the entire outcome of the story. This story is an AU in the sense that it will begin to differ more and more from canon, not that the starting place was completely alternate from canon in the first place.

Basically, I one day sat down and wondered...what if I gave Will a more realistic reaction to his enslavement? Because let's face it. Will was sixteen at the time, and he was practically frozen to death, drugged, starved, and, although it isn't shown, perhaps even beaten. I don't care how brave of a kid Will is; even a full-grown adult would have difficulty recovering from that extreme trauma. And yet, somehow, in the books, Will was completely fine within a week. As I have struggled with mental illness myself, I can safely tell you that recovering from that in a week is impossible. It takes months to recover from trauma or mental illness, if not years.

So, I'll close this extremely long author's note with a disclaimer. Although I have paraphrased large sections of the Battle for Skandia, and have in some parts quoted it, I intend no offence by it and hopefully won't be charged with violating copyright laws, since I know I'll never make any profit from it. If anyone's actually read this far, thank you lol and I hope to post the next chapter soon!