So, confessions time... I just realized that I totally forgot to put a disclaimer in the beginning of the story :( oops! Well, let's just fix that real fast! I don't own Ranger's Apprentice or any of the characters. Ronan is my OC, yes but Halt and the gang belong to the fabulous Mr. John Flanagan, with whom I do not share an identity, unfortunately.

Whew! *wipes sweat off forehead* Glad I remembered that ;) So, without further ado! Chapter 4! Enjoy!

Ronan fled through the forest, running as fast as he could even after his pursuers footsteps disappeared. His fractured ankle throbbed but he kept moving forward. His entire being was filled with one desire. Help. Get help for Gilan. And Ackerly, if the other apprentice was there. Ronan's heart pounded in his chest and he stumbled as his weakened legs started to give way. Normally, he would have been able to run at least two kilometers without stopping, but in his malnourished and dehydrated state he wasn't able to run far at all. He forced himself a few extra feet and then collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. He crawled up next to a tree and rested his head up against it. He knew that he needed to keep moving, but his body was exhausted. He felt hopelessness creep in and it threatened to swallow him whole. Then he forced himself to his feet and looked around, forcing the negative feelings away.

"Okay," Ronan had found that the best way to solve a problem was to act like he was talking to Leander in a training exercise, "if I can find the village, then I can ask where Halt's cabin is. That way I can get help for Gilan and by dinner tonight, this will all be over."

He knew that it was optimistic thinking but he also knew that if he didn't think optimistically then he wouldn't make it anywhere. He needed to find help for Gilan, and fast. He sighed, bounced up onto the balls of his feet and set off at a fast jog. After what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, Ronan reached the edge of the bustling village outside of Redmont castle. He limped up to a small house and knocked on the door, feeling ready to collapse.

A young man answered the door, surprise etched into his face, "are you alright?"

"Please," Ronan gasped out, realizing that his shortness of breath was an omen to him passing out, "Halt's cabin. Which way?"

The man fixed Ronan with a concerned look, "it's just beyond that cope of trees, I'll take you there myself. I was just about to head over there to join Sir David's search party."

"Sir..? Oh, Gilan's father," Ronan forced a deep breath past his bruised ribs and into his even more bruised lungs, "right, I need... to speak... with him... as well."

The man reached out right as Ronan's legs gave out from under him. He caught the injured boy and lowered him to the ground.

"What you need is sleep," the man admonished, "and you need a healer."

Ronan shook his head and tried to sit up, "have to talk to Halt... 'bout Gil."

The man froze, "Gilan? Did you find him?"

Ronan nodded, "was with him."

"You're the other missing apprentice," the man was already lifting Ronan up off the ground and carrying him towards the stables, "you can ride with me. I'll keep you steady. The name is Derick, by the way. You're Ronan? Or Ackerly?"

"Ronan," he wheezed, turning in towards the man's chest.

"Alright," Derick gripped the boy tight, "no more talking until you catch your breath. We'll get to Halt and then you can tell him your story."

***Line break***

Halt sat at the table with Crowley, Rodney, and David going over the maps.

"Our search parties have covered her, here, here, and here," Rodney informed the worried father, gesturing to the locations on the map, "he's not in this fief. And we'll have to get the other baron's permission before we send our men gallivanting through there fief."

"Just find him," David rubbed his face wearily, "please, I don't care what laws we break, just find him."

"We'll find him, David," Crowley laid a hand on the man's shoulder, "I swear that we'll find him."

Halt, for his part, remained stonily silent. He knew that he should put forth some sort of comfort to his apprentice's father, but he refused to raise false hopes. At this point, Gilan was most likely dead. Or worse. Because, Halt knew from experience, there were things worse than death. So, he said nothing, choosing instead to stir his coffee and look at the maps. Because there were no emotions involved in maps, there were no people in maps, and certainly none that Halt truly cared for. Maps were safe territory.

Halt was startled out of his train of thought by the sounds of hoof beats outside, then the sound of someone stumbling up the stairs. Halt stood and crossed the cabin just as the person knocked. Halt threw the door open and was knocked backwards as a young boy practically fell inside.

"Ronan!" the ranger in the room knew Gilan's best friend on sight, despite his mangled appearance.

"Halt," Ronan mumbled into the older man's jerkin, wrapping his arms around the sturdy figure, "oh thank God," he whispered.

Halt scooped the exhausted boy up and deposited him in a chair, gently. He knelt in front of the apprentice who, until recently, had been believed to be dead, "what happened?"

Ronan looked around helplessly, gasping for breath. He was unable to talk anymore. His weeks of beatings had finally taken a toll.

"Crowley," Halt snapped his finger, "water. Now."

The commandant quickly obliged, ignoring the fact that Halt was ordering him around.

"Drink slowly, now," Halt handed the cup to the boy, keeping one hand folded over it as Ronan almost lost his grip, "drink it slowly, or you'll get sick."

"He showed up on my doorstep, " Derick was explaining to Crowley and Rodney, "he said he needed to talk to Halt and Sir David."

"I'm glad you brought him here," Crowley nodded to the boy, "he needs to tell us what he knows."

Halt gently pulled the water away from Ronan, "now we need to tell you what happened?"

Ronan took a deep breath and then quickly explained what had transpired on his end of the situation, "and then Gilan attacked the guy and it allowed space for me to escape. I found the village and then Derick brought me here."

David rubbed the back of his neck, "I was right there. Gilan was meters away from me and I didn't even know it."

"It's not your fault, Sir," Ronan admonished the man, "the hole was hidden under a tent that had a flap in the bottom for easy access. There was no way you could have seen it."

Halt stood, "if we go now, we can catch up to them. I know we can."

"One other thing," Ronan added, "we never did see Ackerly. We don't know if he was held in a different place or what, but we never saw him."

Halt and Crowley exchanged sad looks then Crowley knelt next to Ronan.

"Ronan," his voice was heavy and sad, "a day after Gilan went missing, we found Ackerly," the commandant swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat that was making speech difficult, "he is dead."

***Line Break***

Gilan's head throbbed, so did his leg and wrist and... his whole body was killing him. Bouncing up and down on the back of a horse didn't really help, neither did the fact that he was sopping wet. He had almost drowned when the men had refused to take him off the horse while crossing the Salmon river. When they hit the river, Gilan had realized where they were headed. The Gorlan Ruins. The Gorlan ruins were the ruins of Morgarath's castle. It had been destroyed after the former baron lost the war and fled to the mountains. When he'd realized where they were taking him, Gilan had tried to escape. That merely resulted in another beating, which now came quite often. That fact didn't surprise Gilan, in fact what surprised him was the fact that it had taken them so long to get to the point where they beat him for their own amusement.

He groaned as the horse was pulled to a stop. The rider dismounted and jerked Gilan off, causing the apprentice to ram his already injured shoulder into the ground. Gilan gritted his teeth, refusing to give the man any satisfaction, but he couldn't stop the tears from welling up in his big blue eyes. He was hurt and alone, and he knew they were getting closer to Gorlan. He was terrified of what could possibly be waiting for him there. Whatever it was, he knew it would hurt. And it would hurt bad. Whatever was going on was designed to hurt Halt. So, by proxy it would hurt Gilan.

Gilan sat up slowly, favoring his broken foot. It still hadn't been set yet and he knew if it wasn't then he could have a permanent limp. He wondered if he could be a ranger and have a limp. Besides that, an even more terrifying thought had entered his mind on several occasions. Would Halt even want to keep mentoring him after this? Would his father continue to let him be a ranger? Gilan shuddered, he couldn't imagine losing the freedom that the meadow provided. Or Halt. He couldn't lose Halt. He meant too much to him to lose. Gilan glared as one of the men came over to check his bonds.

"Having fun yet, ya little sneaker?" the man's Hibernian accent was thick, and his boots were sharp, "you should be grateful, our master has forbidden us from killing you just yet."

Usually, Gilan found Hibernian accents calming. At least Halt's was. Early on in his apprenticeship, Gilan had realized that it was Halt's unique tone and accent that had anchored him through his many nightmares. Especially after his mother had died. Nightmares had plagued him so horribly that he had taken to falling asleep on Halt's bedroom floor. His mentor had quickly remedied the problem by moving a cot into the room and demanding that if Gilan was going to sleep in the room he could 'at least sleep on a blasted bed'. Gilan felt tears welling in his eyes as his mentor's voice echoed in his mind.

"Ah," the man in front of him laughed, "you gonna go cry to mummy now?"

Gilan's tears turned to anger, "shut up," he snarled, lunging forward.

The man easily swayed backwards and grinned maliciously, "ooh, struck a nerve, did I, lad?

Gilan didn't grace the man with an answer. Instead, he turned his head away and glared at the ground. He flinched as a hand connected with his cheek, snapping his head backwards.

"You'd best answer me, boy," the man snarled, turning Gilan's face towards his, "I get mighty annoyed when people ignore me."

Gilan lifted his eyes to meet his captor's, "don't talk about things you don't understand," he said, his voice low and strangly calm, "so keep you trap shut about my mother."

The man smirked, releasing Gilan's face, "well, I don't think you understand just what position you're in. It's definitely not one where you're in charge. Maybe I should just impress upon you the seriousness of your predicament."

"Mount up," the leader snapped, "and Couren, leave the boy alone. We need him able to stand."

The man, Couren, scowled, but obeyed. He hauled Gilan to his feet and then threw him over the bacl of the horse, "you'd best be on good behavior," he warned, "or next time I won't listen to him."

Gilan shuddered and pulled back, "yes sir," he whispered, the words tasted foul in his mouth.

"Couren, Avery," the leader snapped, "switch horses, since Couren can't seem to keep his hands to himself."

Gilan winced as Couren conveniently passed just close enough to elbow Gilan in the back of the head. He sighed, now he officially had an enemy.

Mwahahahaha! What will happen to Gilan? Will Halt reach him in time? Will he escape? What will happen?! All good questions, watch for the next chapter for the answers! ;) Can't wait to post again!