A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my mom, who gave me a hotspot when our wifi stopped working. I'm sorry for the delay, writing this chapter turned out a lot differently than I expected. Anyways, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: Je ne suis pas John Flanagan.

"It's time." At the sound of his mentor's voice, Will looked up from where he was sitting on the ground checking over his bow and quiver. He stood and Halt could see the determination that was etched in every line of his body. Will slung his quiver over his shoulder and flicked up his cowl, shadowing his face so that Halt could only see the grim set of his jaw.

Will moved to slip out of the copse, but Halt stopped him by gently gripping his arm. "Are you sure that you're ready?" Halt's gaze was piercing, searching for any sign that his apprentice was not okay.

"I am," Will's voice was deadly serious. "I won't lose my head, Halt, I promise. I won't let those two suffer the same fate I did."

Halt nodded and released Will's arm. He watched as Will moved through the forest, fading almost immediately into the twilight. They had chosen dusk as their time to act because the uncertain light would work in their advantage.

After a few moments, Halt left the copse and crept through the trees towards the bandits' camp. He arrived at the edge of the camp without any trouble and stopped beside an old oak tree, knowing that his cloak and lack of movement would keep him hidden from view, even though he was basically standing in plain sight. As he waited for Will to get into position, Halt observed the bandits.

Seven of them were sitting around the fire, eating the chickens that had been roasting over the fire earlier. As Halt watched, a man who he presumed to be the leader strode over to the others. The man's words proved Halt's guess.

"Get me some of that," the man ordered.

"If you want it so badly, get it yourself. We aren't your servants," one of the other men grumbled. He hadn't meant for his leader to hear the comment, but unfortunately for him, the other man had good hearing. In a flash, the hapless bandit found that his leader's knife was pressed to his throat.

"I told you to get me some, not to talk back to me!" the leader's voice was low and dangerous, but no less threatening for the lack of volume. The bandit nodded slightly, his eyes wide as he felt the knife's pressure lessen. Quickly he grabbed some of the roasted meat, placed it on a rough plate, then handed it to his leader.

Watching the exchange, Halt noted that there was no lost love between the bandits and their leader. It seemed as though they were kept in line more by threats and force than by any sense of loyalty.

Taking his eyes from the scene by the fire, Halt scanned the camp to locate the remaining bandits. There were two men taking down the tents and packing them away, getting ready for the gang's departure later that night. The last man was ambling around the perimeter of the camp, serving as a guard. As he walked by the two captives he bent down and seemed to say something. Halt couldn't make out what he said, but from the way the younger girl shrunk back as far as her bonds would allow, he knew that it wasn't anything positive. Although he didn't allow it didn't show on his face, it made Halt's blood boil to watch the man taunt his helpless captives.

Tearing his attention away from the cruel scene in front of him, Halt scanned the trees beyond the captives. He didn't see anything, but he knew that Will would be there. He and Will had agreed to set their plan in motion after twenty minutes. Halt had been mentally keeping track of the time and he judged that there were now only a couple more minutes before Will would expect him to act.

When Will had left Halt, he had slipped through the trees like a wraith. Instead of heading directly for the camp, he had circled around to the far side, close to where the captives were tied. He moved cautiously, knowing that even the faintest crack of a twig could alert the bandits of his presence, which would ruin the whole plan. When he reached his position, Will found a deep shadow and stood silently, waiting for Halt to make the next move.

Deciding that the agreed upon twenty minutes had passed, Halt nocked an arrow and stepped out from the shelter of the tree. "King's Ranger," he called, "lay down your weapons and surrender."

For a moment it seemed as though the men were on the verge of surrendering. Halt's unexpected appearance had given them all a nasty shock and they were glancing around nervously at each other, seeking guidance on what they should do. Unfortunately for the two Rangers, their mission was not going to be that easy.

The leader of the group—a burly, well-built man with a face that could have been handsome if it weren't twisted in a perpetual scowl—knew that capture would result in him spending a long time in a cell. It took him less than a second to decide that he very much disliked the thought of paying for his crimes and the only way to avoid that was to get rid of the Ranger.

"Come on men," he shouted angrily, drawing his sword from where it hung around his waist, "It's just one man! We outnumber him eleven to one."

"But he's a Ranger…" one of the other men trailed off uncertainly, trying to explain why the odds of eleven to one weren't so good when the one was a Ranger.

"I don't know about you, but I don't feel like sitting in a cell for the next couple years!" the leader growled. "Now get him!"

Halt sighed silently to himself. He would have preferred that the bandits simply surrender, but it seemed that was not to be the case. Normally in a situation like this, he would have already had at least three arrows speeding on their way, but this time he merely turned and ran, careful to go in a direction that would take him away from the captives and from Tug and Abelard. He wanted to be sure that all the men were following him; it would mess up the plan if some of the bandits stayed behind, fearing for their safety. Besides, he would have a slight advantage in the forest away from the campsite— he would be able to blend in and use the trees for cover as he began to whittle down the bandits' numbers.

Encouraged by Halt's apparent retreat, the bandits grabbed their weapons and charged after him. The leader glanced around the campsite quickly, making sure that the captives were still tied to the trees. Then he entered the trees on a path that was angled slightly away from the direction everyone else had gone.

Seeing that Halt had successfully drawn everyone away from the camp, Will breathed a silent sigh of relief. He knew that plans didn't always go as expected, but it was reassuring to see that this one was. It was harder than he expected, seeing the girl and her mother tied up. Memories of Skandia hovered around him, just waiting for a chance to slip in and overwhelm him.

The rough rope chafed his wrists, a constant reminder where he was and what he was. Whoever had tied the rope had made sure to tighten it unnecessarily and Will knew that there would be angry red marks on his wrists when his bonds were loosened. However, the rope was only one of his problems—

NO! Will shook his head, trying to bring his attention back to the current moment. I can't be distracted, not right now. I promised Halt I wouldn't lose my head. The thought of Halt helped to ground him and he took a deep breath before slipping silently over to the two captives. He had drawn his knife and slashed through the rope that was holding the girl before she even realized he was there. She gasped lightly and turned towards him, her eyes wide with fear.

"Don't worry, I'm going to get you out of here," Will whispered reassuringly, already cutting the other woman's bonds.

"Ma isn't awake," the girl whispered back. "She got hit on the head and now she won't wake up."

It hadn't been visible before, but now Will could see that the woman's face was bruised. He clenched his jaw and felt his fingers tighten their grip around his knife at the thought that the women before him had been beaten by the bandits. For a moment he was caught by a wave of anger, then he pushed it away. He couldn't afford to let his emotions get in the way of the mission. Instead he turned back to the girl.

"Are you alright? Can you walk?"

She nodded and then asked worriedly, "Is she going to be alright?"

"I hope so," Will said as he got to his feet. "Now let's get going." He picked the woman up, grunting slightly at the extra weight. Thankfully, she was a fairly small woman, so she wasn't very heavy. Nonetheless, they would be slower than Will and Halt had originally expected. Will led the way, skirting around the camp and heading towards the trees where Tug and Abelard were waiting. He didn't bother to worry too much about stealth, Halt had all the bandits distracted. All the same, Will did keep a sharp look out for anyone who might be returning to the camp.

Fortunately, Halt was doing quite a good job distracting the bandits, which allowed Will, the girl, and her mother to make it to the horses without seeing anyone else. Will's arms were burning by the time they got there and he set the woman down gently, sighing in relief. As he did, her eyes fluttered open and she looked around dazedly. A mixture of confusion, pain, and panic all showed in her eyes as she tried to process what was happening.

"You're safe now," Will told her.

She seemed comforted by his words, but then worry flooded her face again. "Sarah?" she asked, in a weak voice.

"I'm right here, Ma," the girl said, coming forward to give her mother a hug.

The woman looked back up at Will, tears of relief shining in her eyes. "Do you know where Jonas is?"

"He's safe too. He was the one who came to get us," Will answered, handing her some bread and a canteen of water. "I need to go help Halt. You should be safe here, just stay quiet and rest, alright?"

The woman nodded.

"But what if those men come back?" Sarah asked fearfully.

"Then I want you to climb on Tug," Will said, patting his horse gently, "and ride away from them. He'll keep you safe. But before you climb on, you have to ask him 'Do you mind?' That's a really important part, don't forget it. Right now I want you to take care of your mother until I come back. Can you do that?"

Sarah nodded, her fear abating slightly now that she had a plan and a job to focus on.

Will darted through the trees towards the camp, anxious to help Halt. It had taken longer than expected to bring the two captives to safety and he hoped that the delay hadn't been detrimental to Halt. It was almost completely dark, but fortunately the moon was full, so there was a bit of light. Will was able to find his way to the camp fairly easily, it was once he got there that things became more complicated.

He knew the general direction that Halt had led the bandits, but he didn't know exactly where they were. Will desperately wanted to make sure that Halt was alright, but he forced himself to proceed cautiously, following the tracks left by the other men. Soon he came upon two bandits. One of them had an arrow stuck through his thigh and was groaning piteously. The other was ominously silent. Will ignored them both and continued on his way.

Will found the bodies of three other bandits before he found Halt. His mentor was defending himself from four attackers at once. Another man lay slumped against the ground, either dead or unconscious. As Will watched, Halt deflected a sword thrust and used the man's moment of unbalance to step towards him and bring the pommel of his saxe crashing down on the side of his head. The man collapsed to the ground, well and truly out of the fight.

Halt whirled around to face the next attacker, knowing that in a fight like the one he was in, it was critical to keep moving; the slightest hesitation would result in him being defeated. It was at this moment that Will joined the fight, coming up behind one of the remaining men and knocking him out with a well placed blow to the head, just as Halt had done a moment earlier.

Halt and a bandit were trading blows, the bandit with a sword and Halt with his two knives. Despite the advantage of a longer weapon, the bandit was less skilled and Halt was easily holding his own.

The second bandit turned to face Will with a snarl, aiming a vicious overhead cut at Will which would have certainly been a fatal blow—had it connected. Will crossed his knives above him and the sword stopped dead. He felt the force of the blow travel down his arms, but he didn't crumple. The bandit's look of confusion morphed to one of pain and shock as Will slipped his throwing knife from the block and drove it home.

Will turned to see Halt's bandit slump to the ground. His sigh of relief suddenly stopped dead. "Halt, look out!" he cried desperately.

Alerted by his apprentice's shout, Halt spun around, just in time to see the bandit leader thrust his sword at what would have been Halt's back. Reacting with lightning-fast reflexes, Halt managed to dodge mostly out of the way, but the sword slightly cut his abdomen. He grunted in pain and then went on the offensive.

However, Halt had barely slept the previous night, had been travelling hard all day, and had just been fighting intensely for the last few minutes. All of these things had drained his energy reserves, causing his reactions to become slower as he and the leader traded blows. Against a normal fighter this wouldn't have been too much of a problem, but the bandit leader was an exceptional swordsman, almost as good as Gilan or Horace.

"You shouldn't have messed with me, Ranger," the man snarled. He had been in many fights and could tell that his chances of winning this one were getting better every second.

Halt didn't bother replying. He stepped backwards slightly to avoid a vicious swing and his foot caught on the root of a tree. He stumbled and fell to the ground. The man raised his sword with a triumphant look on his face as he looked down on Halt. Halt had just enough time for a lifetime of memories to flash through his head before something sped over him. The man above him gasped in pain and then fell, an arrow sticking out of his chest.

Halt turned to see Will lowering his bow, his face an equal mix of shock and relief. "Halt are you okay? I didn't see him until it was almost too late. I'm sorry. It was my fault." Will babbled.

"This was not your fault, Will," Halt interrupted as his apprentice dropped to his knees beside him, feeling for any injuries. Will's eyes widened when he found the cut on Halt's stomach and he muttered something beneath his breath that would normally result in him being cuffed on the head by Halt.

"Will you be able to walk back to camp? It'll be a better place to treat you."

"I'll be fine," Halt said gruffly. He started to rise but fell back with a groan as a wave of pain swept over him.

Will looked even more concerned and worried, but at Halt's insistence he helped Halt up and eventually the two Rangers managed to make it to the bandits' camp. The fire had burnt down to embers, but all Will had to do was throw on a couple of branches and the flames flickered back to life. By the light of the fire he had a better view of Halt's wound, and he swore quietly when he saw the amount of blood on Halt's shirt.

Halt had either fallen asleep or unconscious after Will had set him down, probably from a combination of exhaustion, blood loss, shock, and pain. Whatever the reason, Will knew that he had to do something.

He quickly cut some of his cloak into strips and used them to form a makeshift bandage. There were better medical supplies in their packs, but Will knew that it was important to stop or at least lessen the blood flow from the wound. That being done, he covered Halt with what was left of his cloak and stood up. He was loath to leave Halt, even though the logical side of him knew that he would have to.

Where is that patrol when they're needed? Will wondered to himself. After checking if Halt had regained consciousness—he hadn't—Will set off at a run towards the horses. Sarah and her mother jumped fearfully when he materialized, but once they weren't realized they weren't in danger, they and the horses followed him back to the bandits' camp.

The mother—Will had found out that her name was Hannah—was looking dazed and unsteady, her face pale. Once they reached the camp, she all but collapsed onto the ground near the fire. Will directed Sarah to find a blanket from the bandits' supplies and wrap her mother in, which she did. Sarah also found herself a blanket and sat by her mother's side, staring blankly into the flames.

Meanwhile, Will rummaged through the Tug's saddlebag. After a few moments, he found the medical bag. He moved to Halt's side and lifted Halt's shirt so that he could deal with the cut. As gently as he could, he poured water around it and used a clean cloth to wipe away the blood and dirt. Despite his cautious movements, Halt still groaned slightly as Will cleaned the wound.

The next thing to do was to spread a salve over the cut to prevent infection and ease the pain. Will opened the bottle of salve and almost immediately slammed the cover back on and dropped the bottle to the ground, a horrified expression on his face.

No! he thought desperately, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the scent. He opened his eyes again and began to search rapidly through the medical bag for some other bottle of salve. Finding none, he rushed to the horses and dug through the rest of the bags. No, no, no, no! This can't be happening! His search was fruitless and he began to shake.

He returned to Halt's side, staring at the bottle, not daring to pick it up. How could this happen? I thought we replaced all the warmweed salves. This shouldn't be happening. This can't happen. Not to me. Not when Halt is injured. This isn't happening. I can't do this. Will's thoughts spiraled round and round, his breaths becoming quicker and shallower as his panic grew. He knew that Halt's wound needed the salve to keep from becoming infected, but he also knew that he couldn't use the salve, at least, not without a high probability of him falling apart.

"Ranger Will, are you alright?" Sarah's worried voice cut through the cloud of panic that surrounded him. Will looked up to see her staring at him anxiously from across the fire. Strangely, it was the sight of the young girl that allowed Will to get a grip on his panic. His breaths began to even out ever-so-slowly and his shaking eased up somewhat. He nodded at her and then picked up the bottle, examining it from all angles.

I have to do this. I won't let Halt die. Determinedly he opened the bottle. The scent hit him almost immediately and he felt nauseous and light headed.

The cold was everywhere, all the time. It surrounded him, never letting him rest. Even in his sleep the cold was there, a constant companion that never left his side. It was strange, really, how the cold burned into his skin. Cold shouldn't feel like it was burning, yet it did. Suddenly a warm glow spread through him, starting in his mouth and moving to the rest of his near-frozen body. The cold melted away and was replaced by a blessed warmth. With the warmth came a curious floating sensation and Will welcomed both the warmth and the detachedness.

NO! With a Herculean effort, Will tore his mind away from the flashback. His hands were shaking again, but he stilled them. Carefully, deliberately, he dipped his fingers into the bottle, covering them in the cream. He was unable to suppress the shudder of revolution at the feel of the cream. Only the knowledge that Halt needed him kept him from hurling the bottle away from him.

He smeared the paste over the cut on Halt's abdomen and then bandaged it with clean bandages from the medical bag. After that was done he poured water over his hands, trying to wash away the lingering scent of warmweed. Then his self-control gave way and he just managed to stumble to the bushes at the edge of the camp before retching.

All he wanted to do was curl up in a tight ball and just not think. He was exhausted and scared. It had been a long night and an even longer day. The adrenaline rush from the fight had faded, leaving him physically and mentally drained. He was freezing— a combination of the evening chill and memories of Skandia; it didn't help that what was left of his cloak was currently being used as a blanket for Halt. He needed to hear someone's voice, just to know that someone was there and that he wasn't alone.

But there was no one that could help him. Halt and Hannah were still out and Sarah had fallen asleep, worn out from the ordeal she had endured. As he moved back to the fire, his attention was drawn to the two horses. Realizing that he hadn't taken time to care for them, he rose tiredly, unsaddled them, poured them some oats and water, and began to brush them down with shaking hands. The methodical work soothed him somewhat and when he was done he found that his hands had ceased to shake.

He wrapped himself in a blanket and sat on a log by the fire, wanting to sleep but knowing that he had to stay awake and on guard. Not that I'll be able to do much if anyone does want to cause trouble. Will thought despondently to himself, feeling the exhaustion that weighed him down.

In an effort to stay alert, Will made some coffee. The sweet, dark drink warmed and rejuvenated him slightly. But this warmth was completely different from the deceptive warmth of warmweed; it didn't dull his senses or bring a feeling of detachment.

He heard the knights long before they arrived; there was after all, a good reason why Halt often likened knights to blundering bears. Despite his weariness, Will heaved himself up from his spot by the fire and slipped out to meet them. The patrol was relieved to find Will and Will was even more relieved that they had found him. He was completely at the end of his tether and was more than happy to hand over responsibility to them.

One of the knights, noticing that Will looked as though he was going to pass out from stress and sheer exhaustion, laid a hand on Will's shoulder. "Get some rest. We'll deal with this now."

Will deeply wanted to collapse on the ground and fall into the obliviousness of sleep, but his concern for Halt outweighed that. "Is Halt going to be okay?" he asked in a rather weak voice, half afraid of what the answer could be.

Another knight, who had been checking over Will's companions, looked up from where he was crouching by Halt. "He'll be fine. Your treatment was good and the wound should heal well."

Hearing this, Will sank to the ground, wrapping a blanket tightly around him to ward off the night chill. The scent of warmweed lingered in his mind, but the knowledge that what he had done had kept Halt safe held the memories at bay. He might have to deal with flashbacks and memories later, but at that moment he was okay. He was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the ground, content with the knowledge that his actions had saved Hannah and Sarah from a life of suffering, toil, and hardship and that Halt was going to be okay.

A/N: I hope you considered that this was worth the wait! (Again, I'm sorry about that.) I may end up adding a third part, just to clear up some loose ends, but I'm not completely sure. If you'd like that, please tell me. Also, if you have any other ideas about how Will's time in Skandia affects him as a Ranger, let me know! I've sort of run out of ideas and I'd welcome some inspiration.

As always, thank you so much to my reviewers!