A/N: Okay, I don't really like this chapter that much, but it's kind of important. So, yeah. That's really all I have to say. Hope Halt and Will aren't too OOC in this one.

Farmer's Daugther: See last chapter, I changed your message.

I woke to a scream. As you might expect, this got bright-eyed and bushy-tailed pretty quick.
Sarah, of course, was still out cold.
I leaped to my feet, whirling in a tight circle to seek the source of the loud noise. There it was. A girl, about our age, with a simple brown dress, a work dress, and a light cloak to prevent a sunburn, holding a basket filled with edible forest mushrooms, looking absolutely terrified. The girl, not the mushrooms. I reached out a hand. "Hey, it's ok-"
The girl screamed again, turned on a dime, and ran away. Getting the feeling that there was more to this than was on the surface, I took off after her. I didn't realize how much better I was at sprinting until then, as I caught her in only a few seconds. I grabbed her forearm while stopping dead, and like a ship with an abruptly dropped anchor, she swung all the way around. She yelled and tried to pull out, but compared to my newly strong arms and hands, she was pretty weak. "Help! Help!" She screamed, before I whipped her about so I had her arm twisted behind her back, and the wrapped my hand around her mouth.
"Shhhhh." I said. "I'm not going to hurt you. But right now, I'm in a lot of danger and you might give away our position, so I can't let you yell. Now, I'm gonna let go of your mouth, and you're not gonna scream, right?"
The girl seemed to consider, then nodded slowly.
"Okay..." I slowly removed my hand, and was ready to flinch back at any moment, but the girl made not a sound. "What are you doing out here?" I asked.
"I-I-I'm getting m-mushrooms for my mum." she lifted the basket, which was miraculously still full. She turned as she spoke, and I almost yelped with astonishment. It was Shayna. Shayna is the third of our three musketeers, and so had no reason to be running from us. Well, she didn't have a reason to say 'mum' either, but whatever. "Why are you all out here?"
"All two of us, you mean?" I ask slowly, wondering if this Shanya who clearly was not actually Shayna was slow-witted.
"No, there are those other two over there, and -"
"What other two?" I cut in sharply.
"Two men over there, wearing the same stuff as you. They seemed to be looking for something."
"Oh, thank you Shayna." I said, relieved, and giving the girl a hug. She stiffened. "Oh, you probably have no idea what I'm talking about, that's probably not even your name, but just to let you know, you've just been the most helpful person on earth. Now, run along." The girl did as instructed, very quickly. Then, deciding that trying to wake Sarah would be futile, I ran at top speed in the direction the girl had pointed, tearing through the underbrush. Then, realizing that I could make something out of this, I slowed to a walk, moving quietly over the padded forest floor. This portion of the forest was mainly pine trees, so there was a ton of pine needles padding my steps. I made almost no sound as I slid forward, ears pricked for any sound. Then, I heard them, very quiet voices.
"Where could they have gone?"
"It's odd that we can't find any sign of them. That girl that ran away seemed to indicate that there weren't very many people in these woods, so they should be easy to find."
I froze, willing my cloak to hide me. Then, there was the soft sound of hooves. Edging forward, I got closer to where I predicted the pair would emerge. There they were, just a flash of color. I prepared to step out inform them that I had snuck up on them, when I heard a familiar deep thrum, and I felt a tug on my sleeve. I yelped as the tug became a yank and I was jerked back into a tree a few inches behind me. I tried to pull away but found that my sleeve was stuck to the tree. I looked over incredulously, and found an arrow going through my sleeve and into the tree. I yanked at it, but in my position I didn't have enough leverage to pull it out. "What the hell?!" I called, annoyed that they'd shot at me. As if my tattered dress needed more tattering.
"Katie?" There was the sound of a pair a trotting horses, and then through the undergrowth appeared Halt and Will, on Tug and Abelard.
"No, her identical twin!" I said sarcastically, and pulled again at the arrow. "Now if you don't mind!"
Halt dismounted and pulled the arrow from the tree with seeming ease. "Sorry about that."
"I should think so." I said, rubbing my upper arm.
"Hey." Halt said, pointing the arrow tip at my nose, "Don't sass the one who's got the arrow."
Will, who was still mounted on Tug, offered me a hand, and I pulled myself (or more realistically, Will pulled me) up into the saddle behind him. "Now where's Sal?" suddenly a flash of fright passed across his eyes. "You do know where she is, right?" It seems curious to me that, in his brief moment of fright, he had forgotten our 'new' names. Just this once, I let it pass, because I have other things to snark about.
"No, I just left Tiron, who you must have seen was gone, back at my camp so that I could search for her on foot." I reply, still ticked off at being shot at.
Will scowled at me in response, but just said, "Lead on."
When we got back, Sarah was still asleep, and Tiron was standing almost right over her, his neck reaching up to snag the leaves of a low hanging tree branch. Lowering his head back down, he nickered softly in greeting, which Tug and Abelard returned. I swear, Tug and Abelard are like Tiron and Correr's mentors; I've often seen them doing something together, and then seen the two older horses seem to correct something in the younger horses stride, or posture, or whatever. It's kind of funny, actually.
Anyways. Sarah was asleep. And Halt didn't seem inclined to wait around for her to wake up. He swung down, walked over to Sarah, and dumped the contents of his canteen on her head. Spluttering, Sarah sat bolt upright, muttering curses under her breath. "What the hell was that?!" Sarah demanded, standing and brushing herself off.
"That was your wake up call." Halt said flatly. "Now get on Tiron and let's go."
"Waitwaitwait." I said, standing between him and Abelard. "Please explain to me why I have to walk if it's my horse."
"You don't. You're going to double, today, and then me and Will will double up the next days, etc."
Sarah looked mortified. "But Correr!"
"Correr is, if he hasn't arrived by now, never going to."
Sarah stared for a moment longer, then turned quickly and walked over to Tiron. "You get on first." she said, her voice tight. Her head was bowed.
I mounted, frowning. Halt could have been slightly more tactful with that, I thought. Sarah mounted behind me, and Halt took the lead in a slow canter. Tiron snorted unhappily, but followed, shaking his mane. His movements were heavier than usual, made unsteady from the weight of an extra person. Will brought up the rear, Tug having to take more strides, being the smallest of them all, but seeming to use the least total effort. Figures.
I felt Sarah's arms shaking slightly as she gripped my midsection for stability. Amidst my posting, and steering, and keeping my eyes on Halt's back, I managed to reach over and pat her hand sympathetically. Despite the fact that we must have been here no more than two months, tops, we had both become very attached to our horses. I could only imagine what Sarah was going through, losing Correr. Not just outright sobbing was probably better than I would have been doing, were the situation reversed.
For a while we rode, stopping only once for Sarah and I to change back into ranger gear as we started to chafe, before I realized something. "Halt?" I said. He sighed, but motioned for me to continue. "What's so important that we are riding the whole time, instead of only riding some of the time and going forced march the rest?"
"Well, for one thing, neither of you could keep up a forced march pace for very long, and for another, getting out of the country is our first priority at this point."
"Getting out of the country?" Sarah's voice didn't even crack. I was impressed.
"Yes. In case you hadn't noticed, Sir Thomas didn't seem to like us very much. And the fact that we got away means he wants us back, so we don't have time to amass an army of our own before his scouts find us and kill us. If we can keep this pace, we'll be at the sea by noon tomorrow, and we can hire a boat and be out so we can meet the rest of the corp."
"Meet?" Will said, looking very confused. "Meet where?"
Halt sighed. "At Mt. Norovanaya, in the Dural Mountains. It's part of the Eastern Steppes. And, before you can ask," Halt hurried on, foreseeing Will's question, "You weren't told because you aren't told until you have been a full member of the corp for ten years, and you haven't yet. This emergency, however, has made an exception to that rule."
Dural Mountains. All these places were connected with somewhere real. Europe unit in Social Studies, come on... Dural, Bural, Rural, what else could go in front of ural...! Ural! That was it! The Ural mountains! But... that was all the way across Europe. Then again, the maps of Araluen and everything else were kind of squished... but still! That's a long way! And Mt. Norovanaya... no clue. Just a vague name to me. Could have been in Idaho for all I knew. But I did know this. It was gonna be a looonnngggg way. Long, long, long...
THUD! A double-sided axe came sailing through the air, slamming into the ground in front of Abelard. Whinnying with surprise, Abelard reared, hooves flailing at the air, and taking odd, half hopping steps backward, still upright. Halt clung to the saddle horn, eyes searching for our assailant despite his precarious perch. Then, as Abelard dropped back down, Halt was already shooting off an arrow, sending it wising into the trees. Tiron was now mere inches behind Abelard, and Tug, who was going to fast, actually skidded into Tiron, shoving him into Abelard, who stumbled forward. It probably saved Halt's life. Two daggers sailed glinting through the air, slicing through where he had been seconds before.
Instantly, Halt and Will were shooting off round after round of arrows, as Sarah and I scrambled to try and extricate our weapons. Sarah grabbed the knives out of my sheaths, while I pulled my bow off from around my saddle where it had been stored . Poor Sarah. Didn't have her weapons, as well as not having her horse. We tried to make ourselves as compact as possible as we did this, to make ourselves as small of target as possible. There, just a tiny movement, but enough. I pulled out my arrow, drew, and fired. Not nearly as fast as Halt and Will, but at least it found it's mark. A whinny rose from the woods, and a horse charged from the forest. A man was dragged along behind, one foot caught in the stirrups. I nocked another arrow.
Abruptly, Tiron reared, throwing Sarah and I onto the ground. Then, an all too human scream came from above me as Tiron whipped his head about, frantically trying to dislodge the arrow now embedded in his neck as he reared a second time. I knew he knew better, whipping around might make things worse, but sometimes, even ranger horses are overcome by pain and fear. Or maybe, I thought, as another arrow sliced his flank, not even close to us, he was trying to be a diversion.
Terrified as I was for Tiron, we had other problems. Every perhaps ten seconds, a couple arrows would soar through the air. Luckily, they weren't very good shots. Along with that,perhaps twenty five men had stepped from the trees, axes, swords, and maces held high. For a moment, they just stood, sizing us up. That was, however, until three of them were felled by black and gray shafted arrows in a couple instants. At that point, they decided to get on with it.
A swordsman started towards me. (It was at this point I lost track of Sarah.) I scrambled to my feet, shooting off the arrow I had on the string. It missed by a mile, my fear causing me to lose some of my technique and allow the arrow to veer violently to the right. The man was coming none to slowly, and I knew I wouldn't have enough time to fire off anything more, but I tried anyways. Shaking hands fumbled with the bowstring as the warrior raised his blade. At the last instant, I raised my bow over my head, thinking that, perhaps, but some miracle, the blade would get stuck in it.
A lancing pain shot through my leg, and I collapsed with a cry. The swipe that would have taken off my head went sailing harmlessly above me, and, somehow seeing my chance through the haze of pain, I shot off the arrow that I now had ready. The close range saved my life; even a mere three feet away I missed the center of his torso and hit his shoulder. To my joy, however, the short range combined with the location severed important muscles to move his arm, muscles he needed to lift that sword of his. With a yell of pain, he dropped his sword and staggered back, glaring at me and then at the others. Then, apparently deciding there was nothing for it, he retreated hastily to the trees.
Then the pain really registered. An arrow was now embedded into my thigh, only to the base of the head, but it was terribly painful and, depending on what had been hit, potentially deadly. I let out a screech of pain, and clenched my teeth. There were men approaching, I could see them, but even with just the slightest movement it became apparent that my leg would not be holding my weight. Frightened, I struggled to think through the haze of pain, trying to drag myself towards some sort of cover or weapon. I was too slow, though, I could tell. It was with a mix of relief and fear that I watched Tiron charge between me and my pursuers, boldly becoming my blockade. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that the red blood that was in stark contrast to his dark hide seemed to be an awful lot, but what was I to do?
There were three men approaching now - two swordsman and an axe man. They approached Tiron, looking confident. Tiron grumbled warningly, daring them to cross him. Unfortunately, they were all to willing to oblige. As one of the swordsmen lunged at him, blade outstretched, Tiron skipped nimbly to the side, before lunging forwards himself and knocking the man to the ground. With a ferocity I had never seen before, he landed a brutal kick to the man's head, and he fell still. The second swordsman approached more cautiously, learning from his fallen comrade. When he attacked, it was a side swipe at close range, not as easy to avoid. To my astonishment, Tiron blocked the blade with his mouth, intelligent enough to understand that the metal bit would protect his sensitive flesh. Then, with a jerk he wrenched the blade away, a victorious look in his eyes. The swordsman stumbled back, startled, before an arrow impaled him in the chest and he dropped. Now all that was left was the axe man. And that was the problem. The axe man was undoubtedly as fast as the swordsmen, despite the weight of his weapon, or he wouldn't be here. And the size of his muscles suggested that he would have no trouble wielding that beast of a blade. And, because the axe was a heavier weapon, Tiron would have absolutely no defense. I fumbled at my belt for a knife, before remembering that Sarah had taken them. Cursing, I watched helplessly as the scene unfolded before me.

The two opponents stood absolutely still for a moment, and I saw the axe man's eyes flick around Tiron to me, his original target. I felt my breath catch as a shock of fear ran down my spine. I was completely and utterly defenceless. The axe man began to circle around Tiron, but the horse stepped in the way, bravely covering me. The axe man, exasperated raised the large weapon effortlessly, and Tiron, though he undoubtedly knew that it would only make things worse, reared up on his hind legs, front legs kicking in front of him as if to make sure the axe man wouldn't come any closer. I turned my face away, waiting for the crunch that was sure to follow.

But it didn't come. I looked up to see the body of the man lying awkwardly on the ground, apparently trampled by the horse who had just pounded by. There were no more warriors, just the eight creatures standing in the clearing, and the sound of retreating footsteps in the forest. Tiron, falling back onto all fours, stood shaking for a moment, copious amounts of blood welling from the deep piercing arrows. Then, slowly, he lowered himself onto his knees, and then lay down, his flanks rising and falling heavily.

The absence of the battle seemed to throw everything into sharp relief. The heaving sides of my horse, red blood sharp against black hair. The intense pain in my leg, the warmth of the blood running across my skin. The way that the others in the clearing looked around, as if they couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened. Pain and fright and shock and sadness all washed over me at once, and, despite how much I didn't want to, I broke down completely and sobbed, hiding my face in the crook of my arm so I wouldn't have to face the world. My sobs shook my body, making my leg burn with pain, which made me cry more - it was quite the vicious cycle, really. But even so, I was still awfully aware of Tiron, lying just beyond my reach. Despite the agony it caused, I used my arms to push myself close enough to touch Tiron, just a little bit, with my fingertips. "It's gonna be okay," I told him, stroking him over the space of just the couple inches I could reach, "It's gonna be fine, I promise." Empty words, meant to be as convincing to me as they were to be comforting to him. I didn't know anything about what was about to happen, for all I knew nothing was going to be fine. In fact, as far as I could tell, Tiron was... was.. dying.
At some point, Will knelt beside me, sitting me up and wrapping one gentle arm around my shoulders, squeezing me lightly. I didn't respond, just remained sitting beside my friend, not allowing myself to be distracted from these last few moments with him. It was only when Tiron screamed once more, filled with pain, did Will gently pull me away, careful not to disturb my leg. I turned as best I could and buried my face instead in Will's clothes, my sobs now muffled. Will now wrapped both arms about me, rubbing my back, just like my dad used to when I was little. Another scream, and I heard Will catch his breath. Then, he hushed me gently, turning my head back when I tried to look at Tiron. There was a long moment where I could only hear my own sobbing and breathing, before I felt a gentle hand on my good leg. "Let's get you fixed up." It was Halt, for once not being sarcastic. He cut away the pant leg by the arrow, carefully removing it without touching the wound or the weapon. He planted his hand in a L shape around the arrow and, without any warning of any kind, wrenched the arrow from my flesh. I screamed myself now, fists clenching in Will's cloak. Teeth gritted, I grabbed toward my leg protectively, but Will caught my hands. "Worst's over now." he whispered to me, brushing a tear from my cheek. I nodded and brought my hands back to my chest, nails biting into my palms. "Just a few stitches."
In comparison to the arrow coming out, the stitches were like pinches. Six stitches, closing up the inch long puncture, and heaven knows how deep. Then, a very tight bandage wrap, trying to stop the bleeding, soaked in a disinfectant sort of thing. It stung like nothing in this world, but I suppose it was better than getting it infected. It was really tight, and I already felt the circulation being cut off.
"I'm - I'm not gonna - gonna be able t- stand, am I?" I got out, words cut off by sniffles and stifled moans.
"You will. Just not right away." Halt replied softly. "At least not without help." Still facing away from the road, he slid an arm beneath mine, guiding my arm around his neck. Then, slowly, he pulled me to my feet, supporting most of my weight at first, then letting me support my weight on my good leg, just being there to help me keep my balance. Will stood beside us, and together, I was eventually maneuvered so that a faced the scene of the battle.
To my shock and delight, Tiron was still breathing, and all the arrows that had been piercing his side were gone. A very tight bandage was wrapped about his side (how Halt got that bandage under a lying down horse I will never know), and a bandage pad with a lighter wrap covered a piercing in his neck. Small pools of blood lay by his sides, but they didn't seem to be getting bigger. In between where I had laid and where Tiron was there were six arrows with bloodstained tips. All about the clearing there were men, some with arrows sticking from their chests, some of whom seemed to have died from other causes. Tan shafted arrows of the enemy lay scattered all across the clearing, some impaled in the dirt, some just laying there as if dropped. At the far end of the clearing, Sarah lay in the dirt, a hoof print swelling on her forehead. She was still breathing, and didn't appear to be injured, just unconscious. And above her, snuffling at her carefully, was Correr, undoubtedly Tiron and I's saviour. It had been he that took out the final axe man that would have finished Tiron. Nearby, Tug and Abelard stood, watching the entire scene carefully, not quite sure where to start.
I frowned. There was something I wasn't noticing, something I should have been. Something important... Wait. The six arrows, the ones that had been in me and Tiron. Five of them were tan. But the third one, it was... black.
I pulled away from Halt, grabbing Will's shoulder instead. "You shot me!" I exclaimed, anger and disbelief potent in my voice. "You - Shot - Me!"
Will's eyebrows shot up, and he looked from me to Halt and back to me. "You - he- but-"
"He shot me!" I repeated, so adamant that I lost my balance, and Will was just barely quick enough to catch me and help me stand again.

"I encourage you to think of the alternative." Halt said, coming to stand in front of me. When nothing registered, Halt rolled his eyes and pointed back towards the body strewn road. "Swordsman, remember?"
Slowly, I realized what had happened, and with a shudder, nodded, all my anger drained now. "Okay." I whispered, nodding slowly to show my understanding.
"Oi, what happened?" Sarah's slurred voice broke the silence. She staggered towards us, apparently not having seen Correr yet. The little horse crept behind her, moving silently, perhaps a foot of distance between the two. I smothered a grin.
"Well, I just got eight stitches, and it looks like you got a helpful hoof in the head." I told her.
"Are you...okay?"
"Well, I did have a little help."
Just as I had hoped, this was where Correr stepped up the pace a little, and nudged Sarah's arm. She whipped about, almost taking off her own horse's nose on accident. Then, she squealed in a very un-ranger like way and wrapped her arms tightly about Correr's neck. She buried her face in his hair, and although her words were muffled, I could tell she was saying how excited she was to have him back. In that was that only horses can, Correr turned his neck completely around, managing to double it over to nuzzle her while she was still on his neck. When she was finally done, she turned around and, clearing her throat with a bright red face, said, as casually as she could, "Now, what was this about stitches?"
I gestured to my mostly bare leg. Her eyes widened, and she said, voice faint, "That's a lot of ... blood..." then her eyes rolled up in her head, and she collapsed into a dead faint. Will hurried over, ignoring Correr's nervous nickering.
"She's fine." Will said. "Just ... afraid of... blood?" he said, hesitantly. Then more confidently, "The point is, she's fine."
Correr tossed his head, gratefully it seemed. Then, he plodded slowly over to Tiron, who was still on his side, and blew softly through his nose, making that little noise horses do. Tiron virtually exploded, whinnying with excitement. He craned his neck carefully trying to catch a glimpse of his friend. When he did, another whinny came, and this time Correr responded, having a little horse conversation right there. Then, after a short moment of conversation between all of the horses, Tug, Abelard, and Correr all gathered about Tiron, slowly easing him on to his stomach instead of his side. The bandage around his neck looked ready to break, and I opened my mouth to say something, but Halt said softly, "It'll be fine." Then, with quite a bit of snorting, nickering, and, grunting, Tiron was eased to his feet. It was clear he was leaning heavily on the others, but distributed between three horses, the weight of one horse is nothing, especially if they're all ranger horses. I almost let out a cheer, seeing that Tiron was okay, but refrained. Slowly, each horse stopped supporting Tiron. He could stand on his own, although he did keep one foot, his back left, with less weight on it that the others.
There was a long moment of stillness. Then, Halt said, almost to himself, "Well, clearly you can't ride Tiron, and you can't walk very fast, not like that..." his brow furrowed, and I could see he was deep in thought.
"A wagon." I said, somewhat to my own surprise.
"What?" Halt said, one eyebrow raised.
"A wagon. We could hitch two of the horses alternately to the wagon, I could sit in the wagon, and it wouldn't slow us down as much as me not riding would. Tiron might not be able to pull, but the other three could, and by the time we both got better everything would be fine."
"It would still slow us down."
"So will everything else."
Another long silence. Then, just a tiny nod of approval. "We'll just have to walk to the next town and buy one. And some harnesses. But you'll have to be our look out, be ready to shoot things. Better than you just did." He gave a pointed look to the bow I had left disused on the ground.
My happy mood at having thought of a good idea fell. "Oh. Yeah. I guess I just... panicked."
Halt swept me up without warning so that I was held in a fireman's carry. Though he was careful not to hurt my leg, I let out an indignant and startled squawk. "Well, don't panic next time." He said gruffly, before he began to tote me in a most undignified way down the road.

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