NOTE: I don't own any of the characters from Ranger's Apprentice! I just own Will's family and the country of Quarize.
I'm so sorry this took so long. I was trying really hard to get to it but I was visiting family then starting my doctor visits for my wrist. Since I'm an uber nerd I'll be starting summer school next week. However, I don't expect it to get that bad. I also know some of you want longer chapters but with my wrist there is only so much I can do. I promise to try and write longer chapters. However, longer chapters will take longer to write. So you must choose:
Longer chapters or chapters faster. Vote.
Now time to learn another secret that Bruce has been keeping from Will. This one leads to a whole boatload of other secrets…and some dark, bloody lies.
Review and Enjoy!
Unknown Blood Chapter 9
The arrows ripped through the targets that had been set up. Will lowered his bow, eyes narrowing as he studied his work. Around him were other archers. They were skilled but nowhere near his level. All of Will's arrows had torn through the center rings easily. Everyone else only hit the center once in a while. Will sighed weakly. He had asked if he could train with the other archers in his father's forces. The archers had welcomed him warmly into their ranks. However, none of them were able to teach him anything new. Often it was Will teaching them something new. Will sighed again, missing the Ranger Gatherings where he would improve after a challenge from one of the other Ranger apprentices.
"Impressive, sir," came the now familiar voice of Grayson.
Turning around, Will faced the young man. He was slightly taller and extremely thin. His light skin was often covered in dirt or dust or mud. However, his bright blue eyes were always sparkling and a smile never left his face. His dark brown hair was well brushed and his tan clothes were well cleaned. Grayson was Will's personal slave. However, Will preferred the word servant. Will had actually intervened when Render was punishing Grayson. It had been a small mistake but Render was drunk and in a foul mood. Will had happened to be walking past and attracted to Render's loud cursing. Seeing the scene, Will could not help but remember his time in Skandia. That had been enough to make him snap. Bruce and King Othon had been summoned by a servant that there had been a problem. Upon entering the room, they found Will bandaging Grayson up. Render was nursing a black eye, swollen jaw, and a cut lip. Also, his other arm was wrapped protectively around his stomach. The doctor confirmed that Will had been a rib.
When questioned, Will simply replied, "I don't like slavery." Then his dark brown eyes bore into them, "After all, I was captured and sold into slavery myself."
After that encounter, young Grayson had stuck to Will like glue. He looked up to Will despite being the same age. Will personally cared about the young man. Grayson's happy personality reminded Will of his friends. Bruce heavily disapproved of Will making any connection to Grayson. After all, Grayson's job was to serve Will totally. In an event Will is attacked, Grayson's job would be to protect his master even though he had no training. The thought made Will sick. Such a job was basically suicide.
Will smiled at Grayson, "If you're impressed by me then you have to meet my former mentor. He's far better than me. By a longshot."
Grayson laughed at the reference to that fact Rangers used longbows. Together they walked back towards the castle. Grayson may be a servant but he was the closest thing Will had to a friend. Several other lords had traveled to greet Will and welcome him home. Many had brought their children along. All of them had acted friendly and warm but that was all it was- an act. They were simply trying to impress a member of the royal family. After all, Will was the only heir to the throne. Better to get on Will's good side. Their true personalities were more proud and too good for their own good. Will had played along with their games. They were no friends. Will did not trust them as far as he could shoot. Grayson alone seemed to treat Will as a normal person. Together they talked, laughed, and joked. Grayson saw him as a good master. Will saw him as a human being, not a slave. They both needed each other.
Walking through the castle courtyard, Will noticed several of the knights practicing together. Their swords reflected the afternoon light. Sweat poured down their bodies. However, they kept at it until one defeated the other. Even in practice there was competition. Only the best knights ever gained favor in a lord's eyes. Favor equaled power. Power meant they were less likely to die in battle because they could hold back with the lords and king. Such people only fought when absolutely necessary. Will rolled his eyes. He was happy being an archer. Sword work, being a knight, no longer interested him.
"I'll get you some water and clean clothes," Grayson said as they entered the castle.
Will nodded, "Thank you, Grayson. No need to rush. Shooting arrows isn't as strenuous as it used to be."
Grayson nodded and took off. Will shook his head. That young man always wanted to please Will. Not because of Bruce's threats but because he genuinely cared. Will slowly walked towards his apartments. He knew Bruce and Othon were in the private offices discussing matters concerning the state. Will grimaced, knowing that he would have to do that stuff one day. Passing a hall, Will suddenly paused. He looked down it for a few seconds before deciding to go down it. There was something here that had always confused him. The castle staff and knights has always answered his questions concerning the paintings. However, one day he came across one painting that was covered in black cloth. No one would talk to him about it. No one would even look at it. It was not long before Will found it. He stared up at it. The black cloth was thick and covered the painting and its frame. Gingerly Will touched the cloth, wondering what was behind it. Who was in the painting that no one wanted to talk about?
Footsteps made Will turn. It was Grayson returning with the water. He had left the clothes on Will's bed. Will smiled at him before looking back up the painting. The young man joined his side. Neither one spoke. Both just stood there. Grayson could sense Will's curiosity but was afraid to speak. His blue eyes glanced over at his master. Finally he could hold his tongue no longer.
"This painting has been covered since I was born. They say that Lord Bruce can't bear to look at it," Grayson whispered.
Will looked at him, "Who is it?"
"I don't know. No one has ever told me the person's name. All I know is that the person is a man who died shortly before you and I were born. Supposedly it broke your father's heart to bury the man," Grayson murmured.
Curiosity burned deep in Will's body. He wanted to know. Something about this painting held a secret of his father's. He determined that tonight he would learn the truth. There was so much that he did not understand about his father. It was high time that he started understanding. It was time for his father to start telling him the truth. Bruce needed to be honest with him. Will wanted to know, wanted to understand, wanted to be there for his father. Yes, tonight he would ask…
Bruce blinked when Will point blankly asked about the covered picture in the hall. When his son said he had a question this was not the one he was expecting. Now his thoughts raced a mile a minute trying to think of some way to answer his son's question. Finally he sighed weakly and scratched the back of his head. This was not a topic he wanted to visit but it was time that his son learned the truth. Then an idea came to him. It was an idea that brought a smile to his face, not that he would show it to Will. Laying a hand on his son's shoulder, Bruce led Will to the painting.
"This is not something I wanted to share with you Will," Bruce began, making his apology through his tone. "It's a painful topic, to say the least. Also, you know so little about your family. I wanted to know those in the present before I spoke about the past. Now that you have asked, I guess it's time you learned."
They reached the painting a few minutes later. Carefully Bruce removed the black cloth. Will stared up at the picture. Compared to some of the other paintings, this one was quite simple. It depicted a young man, not much older than Will, who was dressed in armor. He was standing in Bruce's personal office that adjoined Bruce's bedroom. The man had black hair and brown eyes. Will swore that he looked like a younger version of Bruce. On his chest was the emblem of the four-legged snake. However this one rearing on its hind legs, jaws open with the tongue sticking out, and the front paws looking ready to strike an unseen enemy. At his hip was a sword. An emerald was imbedded in the handle, the crossguard was platted with gold. Each tip formed the head of his snake, jaws parted revealing sharp fangs but no tongue sticking out. In all he was a handsome young man. Will's heart started to beat faster. Already his mind was piecing it together. He turned to look at his father. Bruce's brown eyes had tears in them as he looked up at the painting. With a heavy sigh, he turned his attention to his son.
"His name was Tyler," Bruce said, waving a hand at the painting. "He was your older brother, Will, and my first child. When part of the country rose up, Tyler was insistent on coming along. We left your mother, just pregnant with you, here at this castle. In the first clash, our forces were quickly put on the defensive. Tyler saw some men in trouble and raced to help them. He had inherited much of Daniel's and your mother's courage. I tried to get to him when a stray crossbolt took him in the chest." Bruce looked away, tears running down his face. "Tyler still got up and kept fighting. The wound was painful but not fatal.
You know that we believe in fair battle and honorable deaths. Tyler defeated one of the men who started pleading for his life. Your brother let him go. As he turned to head for the medical tent, the man he spared stabbed him in the back. Tyler died in my arms. That coward managed to escape from us." Bruce laid his hands on his son's shoulders, kneeling to Will's height. "I covered this painting because it reminds me that I failed to avenge your brother. Your mother was heartbroken over his death."
Will felt tears pricking his eyes. His mind jumped to the logical timeline, "Then this castle was attacked. Mother and I were separated from you."
"Yes. The attack on this castle happened three weeks after Tyler's death," Bruce said, nodding. Then he closed his brown eyes, "I failed everyone that year. Tyler. Your mother. You."
Will wrapped his father in an embrace, "No. You didn't fail anyone. You tried your best to keep us all safe. You tried everything. You didn't fail."
"Thank you for not being upset, my son," Bruce whispered, holding his son close.
Later that night, Bruce pulled out Tyler's old sword. According to Bruce, Tyler had been so looking forward to having a younger sibling. He hoped it was a little brother he could practice swordsmanship with. Therefore, Bruce believed that Tyler would want Will to have his sword, even if Will never used it. Will continued to study the fine weapon well into the night. It almost seemed to him that his big brother was part of the sword. Now it seemed his big brother was with him, in spirit. Will finally clutched the sword close to his chest and let the tears fall.
Into the darkness he whispered tightly, "I promise, Tyler, I'll follow in your footsteps. I'll remember you and will honor you by learning to use the sword. I'm an archer at heart but I'll never be separated from this blade.
I promise to avenge your death but honoring your memory."
He fell asleep with the sword at his side. As soon as he was breathing deep, his door silently opened. A cloaked figure crept over to his bed. It knew which boards would creak and groan. It knew that Will's ears were highly trained to catch the smallest sound. However, the figure had walked these same steps every night since Will came home. The figure stopped next to Will's bed and watched him sleep for a few minutes. Then a gloved hand gently touched the young man's cheek. Then the figure turned and silently left the room. It exited the apartments and paused in indecision. Suddenly it darted down towards King Othon's apartments. Slowly it opened the door and listened for a few minutes. With a shake of the head, the figure closed the door and headed for the secret entrance to the castle. Once well beyond the walls the figure paused and looked back at Will's window. It raised the gloved hand that had touched Will's cheek to its lips.
"Your promise is heard. You have the heart but I wonder if you know the truth,
Brother."
(Cackling loudly) I love this twist. Was going to put it in later but I thought "why not, it fits". Hope you enjoyed. Will work on the next chapter soon.
Please tell me if you want longer chapters or quicker posts. It lets me know what I have to work on. Don't worry, I won't leave anything out if I do quicker posts but shorter chapters. You'll get everything either way.
