"Steady." Halt's voice was barely audible, but it contained enough steel to harden Will's resolve. The tip of the arrow quit wavering and the scene before him sharpened.

"Don't get distracted."

Distracted? Will frowned. "There's nothing going on to distract-"

"I have had enough!" Thick twigs snapped as two heavy boots sank into the muck around Halt's cabin. The tip of the arrow quivered, moving off target. Seeing the two Rangers deep in a lesson, Horace halted, but his large hands worked around the hilt of his sword in agitation.

"He probably came to talk to me." Will shoved out the words even though his muscles were really needing the oxygen after holding the bow for so long.

Halt snorted. "You think so?"

Will bit his lip. Maybe Halt would have some mercy and let him take a few minutes to see why his friend had ridden out.

Wishful thinking.

"I'll see what he wants." Halt backed away. "Hold that position."

Will's sigh cut off quickly and he furrowed his brow, determined to keep up the exercise as long as Halt required it.

Horace's fidgeting intensified as the older Ranger approached, hood thrown back over his shoulders to show with his eyes that he hoped this was important. A tickle sprang up in Horace's throat and his eyes widened. Now wasn't the time for a coughing fit.

Halt noticed his discomfort. It was normal, he was used to it, and the thought of allaying it didn't really cross his mind, especially since they had work to do. In fact, he'd lead with that.

"We're busy, Horace."

Horace opened his mouth to give an excuse, but instead of words his chest balled up into a fist and he started hacking.

Halt's hands flew up to pull his hood up and in a flash he had it wrapped around his nose and mouth. "What are you doing, coming here with that cough?" He spoke through the fabric, taking a few steps back from Horace. His words were drowned out by the fit.

After beating his chest repeatedly, Horace finally swallowed the irritation in his throat and straightened, noticing the Ranger's defensive position. Confusion flickered over his face.

"Well?" Halt glared under his hood.

"I came to see Will, but if the two of you are busy I can come complain later."

"Don't." Halt's hand tightened around the wad of cloth. "You shouldn't be running off from the castle during such a vulnerable season."

Horace felt even more confused and glanced over to where Will was still straining against a practice bow. "We're not really vulnerable. Some extra men are visiting from the north, so they've been taking up the slack."

Halt stifled a groan of irritation and twitched his hand towards his bow.

Horace took the hint. "I'll wait, then." Horace tugged his boots from the mud, the harsh sucking noise echoing in the dead winter air around the cabin, and slogged back to where his horse was grazing with the Ranger horses.

"And get your horse away from mine."

Horace jumped. Halt had followed him silently and spoke right at his elbow. Horace glanced down at the Ranger, cloak still pulled over his face, and hurried over to his mount. When he looked back, Halt was talking to Will, who finally got to release the bowstring.

The shot was way off thanks to the fatigue in his arms, but at this point, Will was just glad it was over.

"Now do the other side." Halt turned to leave. "I'll be back in a while."

Inside the cabin, Halt pulled a fist-sized box off of his kitchen shelf and got to work heating water for tea. It was the only time of year Rangers would choose tea over coffee, and the very idea made his mouth pucker.

But it was a necessary evil, especially since that idiotic Horace had decided to come cough all over Halt. It was a good thing he'd kept Will busy at the cabin that week. If Will got sick no tea would save Halt.

Once the water began boiling he dropped in the special blend of leaves and leaned out the door to yell at Will while they steeped.

"You can come in."

Will's upper body collapsed as he released the arrow, which flew wildly at an angle that made Halt cringe and duck back inside. He needed to work on endurance. There was no question.

As Will stumbled into the cabin, a bit dramatically for the situation, Halt thought, Halt scrounged around the counters.

"What are you looking for?" Will dropped the quiver from his shoulder, wincing at the sharp pain in his back.

"Garlic." Halt pointed to the tea. "Pour yourself a large mug of that."

Will leaned over the steaming pot and frowned as the grassy smell hit him. "Are you feeling alright, Halt?" His coffee was normally top-notch. Finding a mug, Will let the liquid fall in a thin stream. His eyes widened. "This is tea."

"Yes. Drink every drop, and then I'll make more."

Will stared at the depressing cup of tea in his hands. "I think I'll be fine after this."

"No. It's medicinal. And the leaves are highly explosive when dried, so keep it out of the fire if I have you boil it, for the love of all things decent." Halt popped up with a fist full of wrinkly garlic. "And have a few of these tonight."

Will caught the garlic cloves Halt tossed and his eyes shifted between them, the tea, and his suddenly insane mentor. "I'm not sick, Halt."

"Good." Halt poured himself a mug of tea and set another pot to boil. "Tell me the first time you feel anything. Anything." He emphasized the word with a sharp look.

Halt had Will gathering sackfuls of the tea vine every day, but Will started taking long trips into the woods just to avoid him after Day 3 of the intense health routine. He never met anyone in the forest, which was good because Halt would have gone into hysterics if he had. If anyone showed up at the cabin looking for him he would talk to them through the window, making sure they kept a distance and pulling his cloak over his face if they so much as sniffled.

It wasn't the paranoid covering up that was the problem. It was the disgusting tea as often as Halt could get Will to drink it, plus no coffee, and it was the endless garlic smell on their breaths, and it was the steaming herbs, incessant hand washing, and the constant inquiries about Will's nose, his throat, if he had a headache or if the food made him nauseous.

It was confusing. Halt had never acted afraid of anything until Horace showed up with a cold.

The sixth day was winding down, the sun tugging the light out of the sky like a curtain, when Will decided it was time to head back. He gathered his arrows, all of which had hit their target with precision, but held his bow loosely in his hand as he moved through the woods. It was getting difficult to see, so he listened even more carefully to the noises around him.

After about a half hour the woods were black.

"Will."

Will froze. His fist tightened on the bow. He waited. Which direction had the voice come from?

A quiet laugh was quickly muffled. "It's Gilan, Will, you can relax."

Will grinned, though Gilan couldn't see it. It was great to meet another Ranger, especially since Halt had made certain he was his only company for the past week. The paranoia made him a less-than-ideal companion.

"Gilan. What brings you down here? They're not keeping you busy enough back home?"

Gilan cleared his throat loudly. Will imagined, or maybe saw faintly, him shifting back and forth uncertainly. "Almost too busy for me to come down here, but I had to come down for the very same reason I perhaps should've stayed."

"Something's wrong." It wasn't a question. "You want to talk to Halt, don't you?"

"I was headed that way."

"I'll warn you, he's probably not going to let you inside. And he'll probably want to give me a tongue lashing first. And probably a garlic chest rub."

The undergrowth rustled and snapped as Gilan stumbled back. "He's not sick, is he?"

Startled by the panic in his voice, Will took a second to formulate his answer. "No, we're both completely healthy."

"You don't sound sure. Are you or are you not?"

"We're healthy." Will sighed. He couldn't keep the confusion out of his voice.

Gilan muttered under his breath, the words sharp and forceful, but too quiet for Will to understand. "Let's go." Gilan turned and started walking towards the cabin.

"What's going on? Do you know why he's acting like he is?" Will caught up.

Gilan stepped aside, putting a little more space between them. His voice was deep and heavy. "Flu season."

Will lay staring at the ceiling, listening to the two senior Rangers holler across the yard at each other. He'd been right about the chest rub, and Halt had told him to lay there with the soaked rags for the next few hours.

"I've been exposed," Halt grumbled.

"What happened?"

"That's not important."

"You won't come with me?"

"No." Halt was silent for a moment. "Be careful if you go for someone else. You risk another epidemic."

"I think Will's fine."

"I don't know about that. He's been acting sulky lately."

Will rolled his eyes.

Gilan laughed. "Of course he has! You're like an overbearing personal doctor, and I'd know, I went through all of this with you my second year."

"And that's why I don't trust apprentices during flu season. You gave the entire corps…"

"Halt?"

"What?"

"If I've been exposed, and so have the two of you, then you might as well come along. There's no sense in my going to another fief and potentially getting another Ranger sick."

Halt thought for a moment. "You're right. Though traveling only makes it more likely that we'll get sick."

Will had had enough. Clapping a hand over his chest to hold the rags in place, he swung his feet onto the floor and found Halt leaning on the window frame in the next room.

"Why is a cold such a bad thing?"

Halt whipped around. "Back in the room. This is none of your business after you've jeopardized the health of another Ranger."

"And risked making Halt on the receiving end of most of the jokes at the next Gathering," Gilan called from somewhere in the darkness. "Again."

Halt glared in his general direction. "I don't need to see to aim, remember that."

Will hid a grin, but didn't get the answer to his question. He'd have to ask Gilan later.

After the first night sleeping on the ground, Halt couldn't quit sneezing.

"Are you sick?" Gilan paused in saddling Blaze and met Halt's gaze over her back.

"No." Halt leaned over to pick up the whetstone he'd dropped during a sneezing fit and smothered another in the crook of his arm.

Gilan's mouth tightened and he tugged at Blaze's cinch a little harder than normal. When she swung her head around and gave him a look he whispered an apology, but his mind was elsewhere. Mostly mentally checking his vital signs and wondering if the twinge in his neck meant anything. He shook it off. He'd probably just slept on it wrong.

The Rangers finished breaking camp, which didn't take long since it was just the three of them, and headed back to the road. It would take the rest of the day to reach Norgate. Thankfully the horses were completely healthy and able to keep up the pace. In their rush Will couldn't find a good moment to ask Gilan about flu season. If they slowed down the time was filled by Gilan explaining the situation in his fief. Will listened, but his mind wandered until a note of concern entered Halt's voice.

"You asked other Rangers to go up?" He twisted in his saddle to look Gilan in the face. "Who?"

"Andross and Borden. Borden was going to bring his apprentice."

Halt grunted.

"Look, I had no way of knowing you'd been exposed."

"I don't know why you had to personally round up help. A letter would've sufficed." Halt spurred Abelard on, ending the conversation.

They rode on for another hour before Halt slowed. "Someone's up ahead."

Gilan squinted at the figure still a mile down the road. "A Ranger?"

Halt shook his head. "Unless Borden changed his mind about helping you." The rider was trotting, so the three of them sped up to catch him.

Eventually the rider stopped his horse and waited for them. By that time they recognized his mottled cloak. As they came to him and slowed, Halt moved out of his line of vision, hiding behind Gilan and his tall horse.

"Glyn." Gilan nudged Blaze forward, ruining Halt's hiding spot. "What brings you into Atuen?"

"I could ask you the same." The Ranger glanced at the other two members of the party with his dark, deep set eyes. "I heard a pack of Scotti soldiers were spotted heading towards your fief."

Gilan frowned at the judgment in Glyn's tone. "I know. And I knew the fastest way to get a force of Rangers together would be to do it myself. But I didn't leave Norgate undefended."

Glyn snorted, turning his gaze to the forest.

Gilan heated, then tried to remind himself Glyn's opinions didn't reflect an understanding of the situation. "Care to join us?"

Halt huffed through his nose. "He better not. No one's coughed on him, so he's safe for now."

Gilan shifted in his saddle. "I know, but we shouldn't take chances with these Scotti."

"It's supposedly a large army," Glyn drawled.

"We'll be fine." Halt glanced between Will and Gilan. "We are six Rangers already, we shouldn't bleed the rest of the fiefs of their protec-" Halt hacked, his head bowing into his chest.

The other Rangers skittered away, their horses catching the panic and jerking at the reins.

"Thanks for the warning." Glyn urged his horse past the group.

No one bothered apologizing for not mentioning the flu, but Gilan threw Halt a glare before leading the group forward.

They reached Castle Norgate several hours later. Unfortunately, they were greeted by the roar and clash of a battle instead of a troop mobilizing to fight at a later time. Without a moment to plan, they spread out, each with a different tactic in mind.

Skirting the edge of the kilted Scotti, Halt fought for his focus. He realized subtlety wouldn't be his best weapon what with the unpredictable fits of coughing. Nocking an arrow and turning Abelard towards the foray, he rushed out of the trees and into the battle, picking off a few Scotti on his left and creating more chaos as they barreled through.

Halt scanned the castle's battlements, noting the ratio of Scotti to Araluen visible. He drew and shot. The arrow swung right of its target thanks to another wracking cough. Noticing his split-second distraction, a Scotti warrior lunged from behind. Abelard sensed the movement and danced out of reach. Not soon enough. The club slammed into Halt's bow hand, following through into his hip.

Halt grit his teeth, watching the bow slip from his stunned fingers and his glare caught the Scotti's eye. The warrior turned and dashed into the foray.

Good decision, Halt thought. Eyes watering, from either the blunt trauma or the pressure of another cough building up, he jumped down, grabbed the bow in his good hand, and pulled himself back into the saddle. From there he readied for another rush. This time he burst into the fighting and through the gate, already destroyed by the attackers. He couldn't completely avoid the swinging weapons and Abelard's flanks dripped in red foam by the time Halt stopped him by the keep and slid off.

In his horse's shadow, Halt tested his hand. The flesh was hot and rapidly darkening to purple. The feeling was starting to return, but movement was painful. Too painful to steady a bow. Still, he swung his bow onto his back as he drew his saxe. If he could find a couple of the other Rangers they could come up with a plan. Clearly Norgate was going to fall if the fighting continued as it was.

Leaving Abelard, Halt fought up to the wall, searching for an idea that would tip the odds.

"Halt!"

Halt craned his head back. Will leaned over the edge of the battlement, waving for him to come up. In horror, Halt watched as a Scotti rushed Will in his precarious position.

Will spun, ducking the swing and drawing his knives to counter the swordsman.

Halt slashed through the crowd on the steps, leaping up them as quickly as possible and joining Will, who had succeeded in disarming the Scotti and was now fighting back-to-back with Andross. Andross was making good use of his intact hands with the bow, but Will still gripped his knives.

"Do you have an idea?" Halt yelled, keeping his eyes on the small group of Araluen dueling a bunch of club- and sword-wielding Scotti.

"Yes." Will stepped forward to engage another opponent and Halt watched out of the corner of his eye, evaluating his apprentice's handling of the situation. They'd have to talk about that left arm lag later. So long as it didn't get him killed before they had the chance.

Halt followed the tip of Will's knife as it flashed briefly towards the center of the courtyard. His eyebrows furrowed.

"If we can bust open the water tower-"

"That was your idea?" Andross' fingers hesitated behind his head, brushing the fletching.

Will's face fell a little, but he was soon distracted by another attacker. "If we lure them all inside first, then bust it open, the water will cause enough confusion for us to get an edge."

"Maybe." Halt cast a few furtive glances at the enormous wooden bubble as he fended off a Scotti. "But we'd have to empty it all at once."

"And get all of our men out of the way first," Andross huffed, jerking an arrow out of his quiver.

"Do you have a better idea?" Halt raised an eyebrow. "We're losing."

Will nodded, and when he turned around Halt was gone. He left Andross and tumbled down the steps, ducking against the wall to study the water tower. There should have been plenty of water to flood the courtyard as long as it was full. Will's chest started to move up and down faster and faster. He couldn't see any quick way to let the water out, and if he didn't, and if Halt or Andross didn't- and where was Gilan? He could think of something, surely. Will's eyes skittered through the crowd, sweeping up to the battlements and back down to the ground. Dust from the feet of so many fighters forced him to search through a grainy filter, making identifying faces impossible.

Horses were another matter. Abelard stood by the keep, watching blades and arrows flying around him but managing to stay out of their path, waiting for the Ranger to come back for him. His saddlebags were still firmly strapped around his barrel, bulging with supplies.

And hopefully tea. Will sprang away from the wall. Abelard swung around to greet him, but Will rushed past his head and tugged the saddlebag's strap loose. Halt's pan and extra knife clattered to the ground by Abelard's hooves as Will dug through, feeling for a crunchy bag of dry leaves. He felt something soft near the bottom and pulled it out. Cold metal pieces shattered together and he pulled out a small pouch of tiny shards. Part of a weapon Halt had picked up traveling in the west. He searched the other bag and found even more tea. Halt's carrying enough tea in his saddlebags to cure the entire corps, Will thought. His eyes flicked involuntarily up the castle walls, spotting Gilan tearing a hole in the Scotti attack with his sword.

Refocusing, Will ran towards the water tower and gripped the lowest crossbeam to haul himself onto the structure. He balanced on the beam, noticing he didn't shake at all. Halt's training must have been paying off. The noise around him spiked as he jumped to grab the next beam. After securing a grip, dangling midair, he tried to twist around and look.

The courtyard was filling with Scotti. It must've been Halt's work.

Will strained, pulling himself onto the beam, then the next and the next until he tilted back his head and came face to face with a smooth arc of wood. Selecting a tack in one hand and pulling out a piece of the tea with his teeth, he secured the leaf, then shuffled sideways, pulling out the vine as he moved until he reached his beginning point again. The water tower now had an explosive ring of dried vines around the bottom.

Will looked back at the courtyard. Most of their men had retreated to the battlements. Dropping the tacks, Will dug his flint out of his pocket and struck it against one of the steel slivers holding up the bag. The tail of the last piece of vine was tucked into it. It sparked. Nothing caught. He struck again. More sparks. The bag caught. Will dropped his legs over the edge, his fingers catching his weight as he fell. The hope was that he'd have enough time as the bag burned to get down and out of the way before the tea caught fire.

And exploded. The blast knocked Will off the supports and onto a fallen Scotti. The warrior's metal breastplate, wrended almost in two by whatever killed him, slammed into Will's side. He couldn't breathe. He felt the hot flash of blood rushing to his head, which was pounding, and his ribs, which had to be broken. Water and splintered wood poured over him and he lost consciousness.

"So we have six infected. Three fiefs without Rangers." Gilan settled his elbows on his knees, wrapping his hands around a cup of tea he still hadn't convinced himself to start drinking.

"Two." Halt frowned into the fire. "Horace assured me Araluen had plenty of protection. While coughing all over me."

Andross shifted against the raw stone surrounding the fireplace, the muscles in his face tightening. "Three. And for a month."

Borden's apprentice, Timofei, looked up at Andross. "A month? People normally take two weeks, not a whole month."

Halt raised an eyebrow at Andross, enjoying the fact that his own apprentice's ceaseless questions were, for the moment, silenced. Although as soon as he thought it, he had to shove away the image of Will, soaking wet with blood blooming through his cloak, eyes closed, not moving. Frantic Scotti soldiers stumbling over him. Halt stood, almost turned to the back room where Will was resting, but diverted to pour himself more tea instead.

Will would be fine.

Ten days later all six of them were in the throes of the flu. Their skin was flushed and their shivering shook their cots at night. During the day they kept the windows open for air but eventually Halt had enough and shut out the sound of Rangers losing their guts in the woods around Gilan's cramped cabin. Then he dropped into a chair, too weak to keep standing, and opened a letter marked "URGENT" from Crowley.

For Halt, Gilan, Andross, and the other Rangers who fought in the battle against the Scotti,

I heard you all decided to stay at Norgate, and as Commandant of the Ranger Corps I am sending this letter as an official order that you all remain there for at least a month until everyone has had the flu and completely recovered. No exceptions! Although we all had a lot of fun last time Halt spread the flu to the rest of the Corps, once is quite enough. Read that line again please, Halt.

"It wasn't me, it was Gilan," Halt grumbled. "I can't be responsible for every dumb thing my apprentices do."

With six Ranger brains all in one place, you should be able to figure out why we're so susceptible in the first place. Hint, hint.

Yours in health (but not in sickness, so watch out),

Crowley

As soon as he finished reading, Will and Timofei burst through the front door, Timofei laughing loudly at something Will was saying. As new Rangers, their symptoms were only beginning to show and they would probably only be sick for a few days, like everyone else.

Halt gripped his head and wished with all his heart that when Will was an older Ranger he would get the worst case of the flu a Ranger had ever had.