Halt reached out to comfort the young ranger, but Will pushed the hand away. "I can't give in to this yet. Let's get it over with." He forced himself to sound determined, when he really wanted to quit. He needed to grieve, but wouldn't allow himself the luxury. He could use the emotional turmoil to drive him to do what he wouldn't normally be able to do.
"You said that he was alone?" Halt wanted to make sure that he had all the details. "Then let's try to take him before those two brutes come back. Where was the opening you saw?"
"About five meters towards the sea. A jagged rock juts out a lot farther than the others. The pass is just on the other side of it." Will pointed in the direction of the pass as he spoke. "It's only large enough for two men abreast."
That would be plenty of room to carry the child through. Halt debated on going back to the horses to gather a blanket to carry Liam out in, but discarded the idea. If Liam was as Will had assumed, then there would be no need for it, and with the impending rain, it would only add to the weight they would be carrying.
The two rangers slunk out of the pass cautiously into the peristyle of rocks. The cloud that hung over them did little to illuminate the setting. "You move to the boy." Halt ordered quietly. His plan had been to use surprise as a way of taking his enemy. Now, he would have to settle on stealth. "I'll find the other two. Don't make yourself obvious. They may still be within earshot."
Will nodded. He kept his head down, scanning the ground. There were footprints, other than their own, that led in and out of the pass. They would be easy to follow in this soft, silty sand. Just as he had the thought, another ear-ringing clap of thunder sounded, and the sky finally gave in to the overwhelming moisture. The rain fell all at once. There was no pitter-patter as it started, just a sudden onslaught of heavy wind driven drops.
Halt had just moments to search the terrain for a track that led to Red and Dune. When the rain hit, he had spotted a trail that let out the other side of the camp, and was in pursuit of the one who who had made it. He had a vague idea that the creator of the tracks was hunting. It was the only reason he could think of that would have taken these men away from their secluded hideout. With the rain washing away his only hope of finding them quickly, he decided to climb to a higher point, where he would be able to catch them as they returned.
He perched in the cleft of an overhanging rock, that gave him an unobstructed view of the ground beneath. The cowl of his cloak shielded his eyes from the water that coursed over his head.
A shambling figure emerged from between the outcrops below him. He lightly dropped to stand between him and the rocks, sending a splash of muddy water into the mans face. The man wiped the back of his hand across his eyes to clear his vision. Then he sneered as he made out the features of the ranger. He fancied himself a capable swordsman, and so he reached straight away for the hilt of his sword, only to find that his action was too slow. Halt had been waiting for an excuse to take this man down and didn't need a second invitation. He had already drawn and flung the throwing knife into Red's chest.
He had expected the man to curse him or beg for help, but he only laughed. Blood gurgled out of the curled lips, and Halt realized what was so amusing to the dying man. Where was the other criminal?
Uncertainty flooded Halt's mind, and drove him to run as fast as he could, back to his apprentice, paying no head to the thick, ankle deep muck that held on to his boots, trying to impede his progress. Red's dying cackle was unnerving, and could have meant anything. The other criminal may not be alone as he'd originally thought. An insidious thread of fear threatened to unravel his normal state of confidence.
Inside the campsite, Will half ran to see what had happened to his young friend. There was blood crusted onto Liam's forehead where he had been knocked unconscious. As the rain ran over his face it made small reddish tracks that ran down into his hair. He began to stir as the water awakened him. Will nearly jumped when the still form began to move. His hope was revived. Up until then, he wasn't sure if he were here to save Liam, or to avenge his death. Without hesitation, he unfastened his cloak, and swung it off his shoulders to cover the little boy. His focus was so intent on the fact that his friend was alive, that he didn't notice Dune as he sneaked up behind him. The sound of the pouring rain had muffled the footsteps, and it wasn't until he was raised from the ground by his quiver strap that he knew he wasn't alone. By then it was too late. Dune had grabbed the strap with one hand on either side of Will's neck, pulling it taut, and using the leverage to lift Will from the ground. Wills left arm was slightly immobilized, and with his free arm he was frantically scrabbling for a grip on his saxe knife.
He could feel himself slipping into a suspended state of consciousness as he watched from outside himself. Panic and fear made him flail and jerk to get a breath of air. Just when he thought the darkness would overtake him, he found that he was falling to the ground.
Will expected to see that Halt had come to his rescue, but surprisingly it had been Liam. The small figure had skirted the two struggling figures to sneak up behind the bigger man and steal the dirk that was hidden in his boot. Liam drew back and then dug the knife as deeply as he could into Dune's thigh, giving Will just enough time to escape with a counter attack.
In one fluid movement, Will turned and drew his saxe. He plunged it into the flesh of Dune's stomach, feeling only a slight resistance before the sharp blade buried itself to the hilt.
Will staggered back as he watched the man sink lifelessly into the slurry of mud that washed around his feet. Liam was hugging him fiercely, but Will didn't move. He was in a state of shock. He had never killed a man before. Even though he knew that Dune deserved to die, needed to die, he had been the one to take his life. The weight of it was more than he had been ready to deal with. As he stared at the dead eyes, he thought he could feel them drilling into him. He had chosen to be a ranger, and this was part of the job, but now he wasn't so sure he could do this.
Halt stormed into the clearing just in time to see his apprentice move away from the dying man. He swiftly went to Will's side, and placed an arm around him. "It's over, Will. It's over." Halt turned Will to face him. The grizzled ranger hated this part of ranger training. It wasn't fair for one so young to be expected to endure this kind of life. This young ranger wasn't even shaving yet, but was entrusted with carrying out the justice of the kingdom.
"Come on," Halt said as he stooped to retrieve Will's saxe knife. He led the two boys through the pass and back to where Tug and Abelard waited. "We need to get out of here before we're washed away in the flood."
All around them the water had been swelling. Even though the storm was passing, and the rain was tapering off , the runoff from the rocks was collecting inside the walls of rock. Will went to Tug, who nuzzled him with a soggy nudge. The little horse was glad to have his master back, and even acted happy to see the smaller boy who had aggravated him.
Glad to see your still alive Tug whinnied.
"Me too." Will mumbled.