Hey y'all! I AM SOOOOO SORRY! I wrote this chapter like a week ago and then school started and my scatter brain told me I'd already posted it! I'm no gonna babble on so, hope y'all enjoy the chapter!
"Halt?" Gilan croaked, his voice rough from disuse, "wha...?"
Halt slapped him sharply across the face, "you will speak only when spoken to, boy!"
Gilan whimpered involuntarily and shrank back. He held his face where Halt had hit him, watching his mentor with disbelief. The older man glanced him over and nodded approvingly.
"You've kept him well under control, I see,' he grinned maniacally, looking back at his friends, "he's good and beaten down."
He smiled wolfishly and knelt down, grabbing Gilan's face and bringing it close, "are you scared now, boy?"
Gilan didn't answer, instead he studied the man. There was something about him that didn't strike right with Gilan, but the tired boy's mind couldn't function well enough to tell him what it was. Halt snarled and threw him up against the wall. The Hibernian delivered a sharp order to the men and they all filed out, leaving only one man behind to shut and guard the door. Gilan slumped against the wall and wrapped his arms around his exhausted, feverish body. he knew something about the events had been wrong, but he couldn't make since of it. Something was wrong. he turned his thoughts over in his mind, trying to sort through them and make them make sense. Before he knew it, the fever took over and he had fallen asleep against the wall.
***Line Break***
Halt slid out the back door to his cabin. He grimaced at the lack of squeak the newly oiled door delivered as he exited. he'd have to keep a close eye on that door when he got back. He paused, making sure that no one had heard them. Ronan had them busy with his tears, and none of the men had noticed when Halt snuck out to the stables.
"Where do you think you're going?" Crowley's voice echoed behind him.
Halt sighed, almost no one had noticed. He turned and faced the commandant, "Crowley," he said firmly, grabbing Abelard's lead, "as long as there is even a shadow of a doubt that he's actually dead, I won't stop looking. We both know that."
Crowley rolled his eyes, "Oh quit with the theatrics," he snapped, "Halt, I know you're going after your shadowy ideas again, but I meant where do you think you're going alone."
Halt relaxed, "well, if you're coming," he turned to Abelard to hide the smile of relief that covered his face, "then you'd best get Cropper and come on. I won't wait all day."
He turned to see Crowley leading his already tacked up horse out of the stables, "I knew you would do something like this," Crowley explained, "I've known you too long to expect anything different."
Halt swung up onto Abelard and rode him silently out of the stables, Crowley following closely. They stealthily made their way across the clearing and down the lane. Halt spurred Abelard into a run and they set off towards Gorlan. Towards Gilan.
***Line Break***
Gilan rubbed his eyes and sat up. Two men now sat in his cell with him, eyeing him hungrily. Gilan shivered and drew in closer on himself, unsure as to just what was going on. One of the men slid closer and pulled a knife out of his belt, toying with it.
"Boss said not to hurt him," the other an snapped, Gilan recognized him as Jason, "you'd better do as he says this time."
"I won't hurt him," the man's voice identified him as Couran, Gilan shuddered and wrapped his arms tighter around his knees, "I just wanna have a little fun is all."
Jason sighed and turned his head, "if I don't see it, I can't report it."
"That's the spirit, mate," Couran grinned, his teeth shining like ghosts in the dark, "now, Gilan, you'll behave, won't you."
Gilan whimpered, "stay away from me," he sickness made his words slur together, "stay away or Halt will-"
"Halt will what?" Couran laughed, "you've seen who's side your precious Halt is on."
Gilan tried to shrink away, only for Couran to grab his neck and pin him against the wall. Gilan winced and struggled weakly to get out of the man's grip. He froze as Couran ran the knife blade along his cheekbone. A pit of dread formed in his gut and his stomach dropped.
"I bet you're pretty when you're not all beat up," the man snarled, "even handsome."
"Get your hands off me," Gilan snapped, horror and fear clawing their way up his throat.
"Ha," Couran laughed and pressed Gilan harder against the wall, "I bet this boy's a fighter."
"You're drunk," Gilan gasped against the pressure on his throat, "you don't know-"
"Oh," Couran pulled Gilan off the wall and inches away from him, "I know exactly what I'm doing."
He discarded the knife and began running his hand along the same trail as the knife. An idea flashed through Gilan's mind and he flicked his head towards the man's hand. he was rewarded when he felt the man's flesh in his mouth, then a finger. Gilan bit down hard, barely registering when Couran screamed. He felt a hand crash down on his hand but he held his jaw down, clamping it harder. He could taste blood in his mouth and he grimaced, but didn't release the man.
His body slammed against the wall and he felt the man's finger snap. Couran howled with pain, but Gilan refused to yield. Someone grabbed him from behind and tried to pull him away, finally succeeding after slamming Gilan's head into the cell wall repeatedly. Gilan slumped against the person holding him and tried to stop his head from spinning. He was thrown to the floor and he looked up to see Couran and Jason leaving. Couran was holding his bloody hand close to his body and wincing. The cell door clanged shut ad Gilan was left alone. The realization of what had almost happened, came crashing down on the young apprentice and tears welled up in Gilan's eyes. The apprentice crawled into a corner and curled up there, refusing to give in to the darkness that fought for control. He dizzily stood and forced himself to take stock in his injuries. He frowned at the immense amount of blood that coated his jerkin. He cried out when he pressed down on it, feeling a sharp blade stab into his hand. He reached around behind his back and gasped. The hilt of a small dagger stuck out of his back. He lowered himself to the floor and forced himself to breath as panic welled up in his heart. His vision was too fuzzy to see the injury clear;y, but he could feel the blood falling through his fingers. His body slumped to the floor and a horrifying realization hit him. If he didn't get out, he would die there. In the dark. Alone.
***Line Break***
Halt and Crowley lay at the top of a hill. They'd been riding for several days and had finally made it to the Gorlan ruins. They had scouted the area and found a large group of men camping there. They seemed to know what they were doing, leading Halt and Crowley to the understanding that these weren't just your average gang bullies. They were here for a reason. The two rangers slid closer, using the sparse trees and tall grass as camouflage. They hid behind a tree and listened closely to the men's drunken conversations.
"That stupid kid is gonna get one of us in trouble," one man slurred, "he's too feisty."
Halt growled almost silently, he knew they were talking about Gilan. The dark look on Crowley's face showed that he also understood what was going on.
"He bit Couran pretty bad," one man laughed, "he was causing trouble and the kid wouldn't let go until Jason hit his head on the wall and stabbed 'im."
Halt's heart dropped and he almost surged forward, Crowley's hand on his arm was the only thing that stopped him.
"I wasn't causing trouble," another man, Couran, whined, holding up his bandaged hand, "I was just havin' a little fun is all."
"The kid put up one heck of a fight, too," the man next to Couran, presumably Jason, spoke up, "even as injured as he is, it took three slams against a brick wall to make him let go. I don't even think he felt the knife."
The blood drained from Halt's face and fury engulfed his mind. A deep hatred for the men in front of him took seed in his mind and he began to silently plot how to get Gilan out, while taking out as many of the men as possible.
"He's a pretty determined little brat," another man chuckled, "tried to escape twice on the way up here," he rolled his eyes, "finally had to break the kid's dang foot to get him to quit. He was a bit more cooperative after that."
Crowley grabbed Halt's arm just in time to stop him from charging the men. He gestured back towards their camp, and Halt nodded. either man spoke until they had reached their horses. They sat silently in the dark, neither man wanting to accept what they'd heard.
Finally, Crowley spoke up, "he's hurt, Halt."
Halt looked up sharply, "yeah, I got that, Crowley. Thanks."
Crowley ignored his friend's sarcasm, "I just mean that it will be harder to get him out of the ruins. You remember how small those tunnels were. They barely held enough room for two knights."
"Yes, well," Halt swirled his cantee around thoughtfully, "we're considerably smaller than knights, don't you think?"
Crowley nodded, agreeing with his friend, "yes, but," he sighed, "it would only take two, maybe three, of them to block our path out. It won't be easy."
"I didn't expect it to be," Halt replied softly, "I just want my apprentice back."
Crowley didn't respond. There was so much guilt in his friend's words that the commandant almost cringed. Halt had to stop beating himself up about Gilan. It wasn't his fault, and there wasn't anything he could have done. Crowley sighed, Halt wouldn't believe him no matter what he said.
"We need to get some food, and some sleep," the red-head finally spoke up, pulling his saddlebag out and digging through his provisions, "we'll wait until nightfall. Then we'll go in and grab him, use the darkness."
Halt stared at the trees in Gilan's direction, not answering. Crowley looked up at him, knowing Halt's every cell was screaming to go get his apprentice. Crowley laid his saddle bag to the side.
"Halt," he grabbed Halt's shoulder, forcing the Hibernian to look at him, he met his friend's gaze and firmly squeezed his shoulder, "we'll wait for nightfall."
Halt shut his eyes tight and dipped his head towards the ground in frustration. Finally, he nodded, "until nightfall," he met Crowley's gaze, his eyes hard with determination, "then we go and get Gilan back."
***Line Break***
Gilan glared at the door, his palms sweating. His head pounded and his vision was fuzzy, his body ached and his broken limbs constantly sent lances of sharp pain through him. He knew if that if he was going to survive, he had to leave tonight. Whoever Halt was right now, he was dangerous. He was not safe, and so Gilan could not hope for any help from him.
Gilan had managed, despite his injuries, to memorize the guard shifts. He could never see the guards, but he could hear them. He had used what Halt taught him about voices to decipher who was who. So, using what he knew about the guard shifts and energy levels of the men, Gilan was able to determine which shift was night and which shift was day. Right now, the guards were getting shifty and restless, that indicated that it was near the end of shift. Gilan had to wait until the men changed shifts, the night shift was always more relaxed than day shift. That meant that Gilan just had to wait. The night shift was more thinly spread which meant that the men guarding his cell had to patrol the other tunnels. That gave Gilan roughly seven minutes to get out of his cell and up the tunnel.
Deep in thought, Gilan jerked his head up at the sound of his cell door opening. Halt and a few guards entered his cell. Gilan forced himself slowly to his feet and met each gaze individually. He met Halt's eyes last. There was something in them that was just not- there! Over his 3 years as an apprentice, Halt had drilled into his apprentice's head countless times, several phrases. But above all, Halt had insisted on the importance of never, ever looking away first. A mistake that this man had just committed. This man had looked away first.
It solidified into his head something had been mulling over for a while now. This man was not Halt.
"Who are you," Gilan demanded, not thinking before he spoke.
The man was caught off guard and he stumbled over his words slightly, another indication that this man was indeed an impostor, "I-um- I am.." The man tensed up, "you know who I am, boy."
"Yeah," Gilan agreed, "you're not Halt."
***Line Break***
It had been several hours. The sun was setting. Halt and Crowley looked at the colors that bled across the sky. They silently packed up their saddlebags and strapped on their scabbards. It was time to go.
Inside the tunnels, Gilan listened as the guards spoke quietly to each other. It was the guard change. Gilan looked at the small nail he had pried out of the door. He secured the bandages around his torso, made from scraps of his spare cloak, and stood to his feet. Time to go.
WOOHOOO! They are all about to take action! Again, really sorry for taking so long to update! Y'all are all beautiful and fabulous people! Thank you for your reviews and support! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Love y'all!
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