The next morning at dawn, everyone at the camp were in their respective battle stations. The soldiers all formed up in ranks just in front of the camp. Crowley had ridden back to Araluen the day before to deliver news to most of the castle's staff. In front of them, standing in a long line was King Duncan, Cassandra, Halt, Will, Alyss, and Gilan. They all had their weapons ready and they were ready to fight. But as Halt had described last night at the briefing, there probably wouldn't be any fighting. Now that Will wasn't there, they didn't have their reassurance or safety of their ransom. But that they might still attack simply because it would affect their honor of they abandoned their mission now. So everyone was standing ready.

Will was excited for the coming action, but he wasn't really looking forward to seeing MacHaddish again. He felt a strange sense of lust for revenge. He knew it was a feeling he shouldn't have, but the fact that his head was bandaged helped him feel more angry inside. But he knew that killing MacHaddish wasn't going to solve his problem, it was destroying everything he had worked for a second time. He instinctively tightened his grip on his bow, his knuckles turning white.

Halt noticed, and leaned over and took the bow from Will's hand. "Will, we discussed this last night. Are you certain you want to do this? I know that this feels personal for you, and I don't want that to hinder your judgement - "

"Yes, Halt, we did discuss this, and I have already stated that it will not be a problem." Will almost snapped at Halt as he took his bow back, but resolved to keep a looser grip.

Halt raised both eyebrows but said nothing. He knew that nothing he could say would keep Will from doing this. Will had a personal goal, and he wasn't about to get in his way.

As both Will and Halt mulled over their thoughts, suddenly a sound began coming from the forest. It was a huge rumbling sound, and it eventually turned into the thump thump thump of a hundred feet stomping the ground in unison, and everyone knew the Scotti were coming. Will nervously plucked two arrows from his quiver and held them between the fingers of his right hand. He turned and noticed that Halt had done the same, and he smiled slightly in anticipation of the face off.

All at once, the army exploded from the trees. Long lines of men stepped out of the forest and , without even faltering, marched through the tall grass. But at a call from an officer, they all thundered to a stop just in front of the trees. Their number of about two hundred suddenly seemed very small compared to the five hundred plus men the Araluen war camp was housing. And they were all lined up in their armor, row after row, almost to show off their superior numbers. A small party of men, perhaps about ten, began to advance slowly towards the Araluen camp. They were too far away to see exactly who was coming, but it was impossible to miss the white flag the front-most man was hoisting into the air. "What? They think they are going to get a fair truce meeting after - " Will spluttered indignantly, but Halt stopped him.

"Yes, I'm afraid they do." Will fell silent, but was still angry inside. He reached up to touch his still throbbing head, and his anger swelled. He squinted out at the group coming towards them, and he recognized the one in the lead. It was the huge Scotti who had been patrolling the forest when Will had first arrived at the camp. He had nearly caught Will before he had even started. Adair, that was his name. And the figure walking behind him was impossible to miss. Half of his face was covered in blue paint, and his ball and chain was unmistakable. MacHaddish had come to work out, hopefully, surrender papers. But Will suspected, as did practically everyone else, that he had something else up his sleeves... if he had any. He wasn't exactly wearing a shirt. He was only wearing a kilt and a huge harness around his chest that held a huge broadsword across his back, along with tall boots and bracers and greavers. He had a helmet where half of it was painted blue.

Will reached up again and gently touched his head where MacHaddish had cut him. This time Horace noticed the action. "Will, are you sure you're alright? You seem to be touching your head a lot..."

"No, it's alright, Horace, I'm fine." Horace sensed the emotions broiling beneath the surface of Will's voice, and he decided not to push it, and he fell silent.

The truce party came up to about a hundred meters from the lines of men and stopped. Then MacHaddish's herald shouted out, "The great and mighty General MacHaddish wishes to discuss terms with the honorable King Duncan and whosoever joins him! He declares that when you give the signal he will advance to wherever you decide our two great nations will meet!" Then the herald stepped backward and silence settled over the camp.

Without hesitation, Duncan turned and called out to the troops, "Bring a tent out here, with some tables and chairs! Get some refreshments as well!" The soldiers behind immediately brought them out, and in just minutes the tent was set up. Duncan gestured to Cassandra, Halt, Will, Alyss, and Gilan to join him in the large tent. They all walked over and Duncan sat in the large chair at the head of the table, and Halt sat next to him on his right. Everyone else stood behind him, with Will standing just behind his right shoulder, near Halt. Then MacHaddish's party advanced and MacHaddish took his place at the opposite end of the table, with Adair behind him, and many of his advisors. As soon as MacHaddish was settled in his chair, he lifted his eyes and they looked around at all the faces at the other end of the table. He glanced at Duncan and Halt, and didn't even look at the others as his gaze settled on Will. Will met his eyes without hesitation. Halt noticed and saw that MacHaddish's eyes burned with pure, unbridled hatred and contempt on Will. His lip curled in a snarl and his brows lowered down until his eyes were shadowed heavily. Will's face was expressionless, but his eyes burned with anger and steel. Halt met Duncan's eyes and then Duncan began to speak. "So, General, I assume you have come to discuss a certain matter with us? Could you please specify what sort of matter this might be?"

After just a second more of glaring at Will, he finally broke eye contact and looked at Duncan. He finally spoke, acting as though he hadn't heard what Duncan had said. "I think that you assume that I have come to discuss surrender terms with you. But you have assumed wrong." His eyes switched to Halt. Halt met those horrible, dark eyes, but he could see in the gaze that MacHaddish didn't care about him, or Duncan, or anyone else in the tent. And sure enough, his gaze slid back to Will, and suddenly the hatred and contempt burned again. Duncan sensing the tension, said, "So then what, exactly, have you come to discuss?"

This time MacHaddish didn't even look at Duncan, and keeping his gaze fixed on Will, said, "I have come with a request... a request that you return my escaped prisoner to me immediately. Also, the one who helped him escape, he is also rightfully mine."

Now anger blossomed on Will's face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Duncan interrupted him, saying, "Unfortunately, we will not be complying with that request. Neither person shall be handed over to you willingly."

But surprisingly, MacHaddish, again, had stopped paying attention to Duncan again. His gaze was again glued to Will, but his eyebrows were raised slightly, his mouth open in what seemed to be surprise. "Well, I was not expecting that at all..." he murmured softly.

Duncan said, a little uncertainly, "What, you were not expecting us to reject your request?"

"No, no..." MacHaddish said, interrupting Duncan. "Ranger Will." He now addressed Will openly. "That person who helped you escape from my camp... Myself and my men all assumed that it was a man. But that woman next to you, she has the same color of hair and has almost identical features to the 'man' that my men reported seeing escape with you. What is she, a Courier? Ha, I know all about them. They are experts in disguise and deception. She could have very easily become a man to help you escape. I was not expecting it to be a woman, though." He laughed slightly at his last few words. Will glanced at Alyss, who shrugged, and then at the King for permission to speak, and Duncan gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"I hope you listened to my King, MacHaddish, because what he said was the truth." Will said. He hoped he sounded calm, because he was just barely holding his anger for this wretched man. "We are no longer your property. I escaped from your camp, and so did she, and we will not be going with you. You must be crazy if you think we would even consider it."

Halt looked at him, with sudden alarm on his face. What are you doing? asked his eyes.

Meanwhile, MacHaddish sighed heavily and began to glare at Will again, fuming at the insult. But he checked his temper just in time as got control of himself.

Will gave Halt a meaningful look, and then Halt said, "I wonder, Your Majesty, do you think that Will and I could go and talk privately for just a moment?" The King just looked at Will and Halt for a moment, and then nodded resignedly.

Will lead Halt away from the tent quickly until they were out of earshot. "Will! What are you doing? What are you thinking? Nothing beneficial comes from insulting him like that!" Halt scolded.

"No, Halt I'm insulting him because I have a plan!"

"A plan! A plan that includes driving him to violence?"

"Yes."

Halt looked at him, both eyebrows raised. "Are you sure that you only have a mild concussion? Because you are definitely not thinking clearly!"

Will rolled his eyes, and explained. "Halt, my head is fine. But I know about one of MacHaddish's weaknesses! He has a terrible temper, and has a lot of trouble controlling it! That's why he hit me, remember? I drove him over the edge. And that's what I'm trying to do here."

"What? So he can hit you again? Are you crazy - ohhhh..." Halt faded out for a second, and then everything clicked. "The truce rules."

Will smiled. "Yes. As soon as he pulls a weapon, he will have broken a serious truce rule and we can fight him. But since his army doesn't have any orders to attack, they won't, they'll get all confused, and we can kill or capture all of the officers, and then force them to surrender. Took you long enough to figure it out." He added grimly.

Halt nodded. "Let's hope it works."

They both walked back over to the tent, where everyone was waiting patiently, and Duncan said, "Now that we are all here, we shall resume." MacHaddish looked angry again, Will thought triumphantly. "Will you surrender to us? You have no other option."

"Oh, I have plenty of options. One of them is surrender, but there are much more appealing options that you could select, such as, give me back my prisoners." MacHaddish's face turned a little bit redder at those last few words.

"And we have already rejected that. That is no longer something you should even consider. I ask again, will you surrender?" Duncan pressed on, but before MacHaddish could reply, Will slid in.

"It's perfectly alright to feel ashamed, General. I would too if had to surrender." MacHaddish tightened both hands into a fist, but did not move.

"No. I wish to discuss a trade. I am willing to give you a lot of money for those two, or perhaps slaves, if you want them."

Again, Will put in a small comment. "It's sad that your tribe is so primitive as to still have slaves." MacHaddish slammed his fist onto the table, making the whole thing jump a foot in the air. He had begun to sweat, and he was shaking with rage.

"If you will not give me the woman, at least let me take Ranger Will. He was my prisoner, and he is still rightfully mine."

"I have told you. Absolutely not." King Duncan was starting to feel frustrated, Will could tell. He was angry at both MacHaddish, for continuing to press his useless trade, and for Will for insulting him.

But Will knew he had to keep going. So he muttered to Halt, softly, but just loud enough for the whole tent to hear, "Why is he still trying to convince His Majesty? Everyone knows his trade is ridiculous... well, except for him, I suppose." This was too much for MacHaddish. He rose from his seat violently, upsetting his chair and lunging across the table cursing violently at Will. His men behind him dragged him back into his chair, struggling to pull him back as he threw his hands and arms and torso and anything he could grab at Will. But Will just watched all of this calmly, with no expression on his face. Finally MacHaddish was back in his seat, but he was breathing heavily, and sweat was pouring down his face, his whole body was shaking with anger. His face burned tomato red and his lip was now curled into a permanent snarl and his eyes were little black slits of anger. Will knew this look. He gave a tiny nod to Halt, and now Halt new that MacHaddish had reached his limit. One more thing, and he would explode. But just as Will was preparing another jibe, Halt stopped him with a small shake of his head. Will raised his eyebrows in question, and Halt gave him an 'I've got this one' look. So Will let him speak the last and final insult.

"Will, you're right. He really does smell up close."

That was it. MacHaddish exploded, not at Halt, but at Will. He shoved his chair back from the table, and yanked out his ball and chain, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Ranger Will Treaty! Do you see this ball and chain?" He thrust it into the air violently, and a lot of his men ducked as it flailed around dangerously. "It still has your blood on it! And it will get all of it now!" He shoved the table a side and advanced quickly to the other end, where Duncan has gotten up and backed up with Cassandra and Alyss. Halt stood in front of Will his bow out and at half draw. Will behind him had his two knives out, but his bow was also ready. Gilan had backed up a few steps and had his bow out and at full draw, pointed at MacHaddish.

Everyone was about to fire on the advancing and very, very angry MacHaddish when Will cried out, "Stop! Everyone stop!" Everyone froze, even MacHaddish. Will slid past Halt and stood facing MacHaddish, "Look, MacHaddish, look around you. Do you see any sense in this situation at all?"

"I don't have to listen to you! I want to kill you!" MacHaddish began to run towards Will again, but Will pulled up his bow and it reached full draw, aimed straight for MacHaddish's face. MacHaddish froze.

"Yes, you will listen to me, because if you don't, I'll shoot you where you stand." MacHaddish knew how fast Will could shoot. He knew he could never dodge an arrow at such a point blank range of 7 feet. So he stopped.

"What do you want to say now? Another insult? Another mocking word?"

"No, actually, quite the opposite. I am going to give you a choice." Will thought about it for a moment. "Either you can surrender now, or fight us, lose most of your men, and then surrender by force or die. It's your choice. Pick one, I don't care which."

MacHaddish grinned evilly at Will. "Isn't it obvious?" And then he attacked. All at once a battle broke out in the tent. Duncan, in the back of the tent, pulled out his sword and thrust at anything that came near him, while protecting Alyss, who was ready with her saber, and Cassandra, who was pelting enemies with lead shot from her sling. Gilan began to shoot at the men who were with MacHaddish, and Halt was engaged in an epic knife verses ball and chain battle with Adair. But Will was against MacHaddish, which he had been expecting all along. Will was ready for his first wild swing of the ball, and he ducked sooner this time, and the ball passed harmlessly over his head. Then he pivoted and landed a good punch with the butt of his knife in his gut. MacHaddish grunted and backed away a few steps. Then, in a rage that Will had hit him so soon into the battle, he threw his ball and chain at Will. Will dropped flat to the ground as the weapon passed over him again. It didn't scratch his skin, but it ripped three very long and jagged gashes into his cloak, rather, Halt's cloak. So much for giving this one back to him, Will thought. He jumped to his feet just as MacHaddish swung his broadsword for Will's head. Will leapt nimbly out of the way and raked his knife along MacHaddish's shoulder, opening a shallow cut. It wasn't more than a scratch, but it was a start. After that, MacHaddish fired a rapid series of blows with his broadsword at Will. His two knife defense barely blocked each attack, but Will still wasn't a very good knife fighter, and MacHaddish managed to nick Will's wrist with his sword tip. It was small, but deep, and it bled on Will's hand and made his grip slippery. Finally Will gave up on that defense and decided to end it. He thrust MacHaddish back with one huge push, dropped both knives back into their scabbards, and pulled out his bow and a few arrows, and stuck the points straight into MacHaddish's face. MacHaddish froze. Will froze. And all was quiet for a moment except for both men's breathing. Will glanced around for a second and noticed that Halt and the others had stopped fighting. They had either killed, wounded, or subdued all of MacHaddish's men, and Adair lay dead at Halt's feet. They had all backed up to let Will finish off MacHaddish. They all watched them now.

Will spoke first. "MacHaddish, I suggest you surrender now, for the sake of your men. You have no where left to run. Even if I don't end up finishing you off, I'm sure that there are plenty of people here who would like to themselves. So, I ask you again, will you surrender?"

MacHaddish just scowled and said, "Never." And that was the last word he ever spoke. Will fired one arrow, but MacHaddish had been expecting it. He put his arms over his chest and the arrow struck the fleshy part of his left arm, and even though he was wounded, he grinned in triumph. He had survived Will's killing blow! What he didn't expect was the throwing knife that Will had thrown in an easy underhand toss straight for his heart. It thunked into his chest and sank in deeply, blood already welling around it. MacHaddish looked up at Will, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish, and then he fell back, dead before he hit the ground. A look of surprise would forever be plastered to his dead, pale, waxy face.

Will stood over his body for a few seconds in silence, catching his breath. Then he leaned down, and yanked his knife out his chest. He wiped it off on his cloak, and walked slowly back through the crowd, rubbing his head as he headed back towards the camp. Everyone began to murmur all at once, and it slowly grew to a rumble as every soldier in the camp began to tell their friends what they had just witnessed. Halt just sighed with relief. Horace looked at him curiously. "What is it, Halt?"

"Every time that sword or ball and chain came anywhere near Will, I had this distinct feeling Will was dodging too late, but then it would pass over him. Every time. I swear I thought he was going to die about twenty times." Halt sounded exasperated, but Horace knew he was relieved.

"I know, Halt. I felt that way too. But I guess we just got to trust Will. He's never let us down yet."

Halt smiled. "And he never will."