Chapter 5

A/N: Here's the next chapter! It was longer, but it felt a little cluttered to me and I didn't like it; so I decided to split it up and make the other bit into an epilogue. I hope it turned out alright anyway. Thanks to everyone who read, followed, favorited, and reviewed!

YOURFAVEGUEST: Thanks for the review and the compliment, it made my day! :)

TrustTheCloak: Thanks so much for the review and support. I'm really glad you're liking the story so far: it makes all the hours I spent trying to come up with that banter worth it XD

Little Wishlet: No worries X) I just hope it wasn't my fault/my story that made you stay up so late; I don't want you getting sleep deprived XD. Thanks for the review and the encouragement! I'm glad you thought it was a good motive: I am a big fan of having good motive. :)

Guest: Thanks :)

Chapter 5

Very early the next morning, Will and Halt crouched, concealed in the thick trees of the ridge overlooking the small camp below. They watched the six figures who occupied it intently.

It had turned out that the Baron of Devon fief had been harboring some suspicious about his Battlemaster for some time; and those suspicions had only increased when the diplomat was taken and when the Battlemaster had ordered men in pursuit of Will and Alyss the night they had escaped the castle.

Needless to say, the Baron had been more than willing to listen to Halt, Will, Alyss and Horace when they had identified themselves. Having the Baron on hand to add his weight to the threats the Rangers made, had also helped when they interrogated the assassin they had captured. It hadn't taken the man long to spill what information he knew on the whereabouts of John.

All this had led them to where they were, watching the little camp. Will easily recognized the figure of John down below, with four other men lounging nearby. Next to John, Will could see the form of a woman with her hands tied behind her back. Halt and Will exchanged quiet glances. Both knew that they needed to be careful in a situation like this. Will nodded once at Halt, to signal that he was ready. The two then broke apart from each other, Will moving towards the front of the camp and Halt circling behind it.

To John and his men, it seemed as if the Ranger simply materialized in front of them with his bow drawn.

"King's Ranger," Will said, "lay down your arms and surrender."

John, however, had recovered quickly after Will's sudden appearance. He had moved instantly behind the Scotti diplomat, placing his sword at her throat. For a moment, the two adversaries eyed each other. The other men in John's party had risen to their feet, but so far hadn't made any other moves.

"Clever for you to have found us boy; but now you are going turn around and leave and let us be on our way."

"And why would I do that?" Will asked coolly.

"Because, if you don't, I kill her, just like I killed your other friends." He sneered. "You've outmaneuvered yourself Ranger."

"Have I?" Will asked, a faint smile on his lips.

The calm manner in which he spoke, and apparent unconcern, made the beginnings of uncertainty rise up in John. That sense was only compounded when something heavy impacted his sword hand. He screamed in pain as his sword fell from his grip. He stared in horror at the black shafted arrow that had embedded itself in his hand.

He had little enough time to dwell on that fact for the diplomat took the opening and opportunity to strike. Rhona head butted him backwards. John's head snapped back, blood starting to cascade down his face from his nose. Rhona MacKinnon twisted away from him and moved to stand behind Will. Will meanwhile had moved to shoot at the two swordsmen rushing towards him from the left while Halt took care of the ones on the right.

In the moments while Will was occupied with the two other men, John had recovered enough of his senses and faculties to reach for, and get his uninjured hand around, a loaded crossbow which had been lying near him. He began lifting it.

Will was turned slightly away from John, his bow only at half draw, but he had seen John's motion out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't try it," Will warned.

But John, lost in a fever of rage, didn't listen. He brought the crossbow up in the blink of an eye, his hand moving to pull the release trigger. But he never managed it. He gasped in pain and shock as he felt two nearly simultaneous impacts, burning pain, and then nothing. His crossbow fell from nerveless fingers. He crumpled to the ground, still and lifeless, Will's arrow transfixing him from the front and Halt's from behind.

Will lowered his bow. Rhona MacKinnon stepped forward slightly. She surveyed the still form of John and the moaning group of his companions, who had an array of leg and arm wounds, her expression unsympathetic. She turned to look at Will and then at Halt, who had broken from cover to circle down to his former apprentice so they stood side by side.

"You're the Araluen Rangers I was supposed to meet?" she asked, offering her bound hands towards Will who drew his saxe to free her.

When Will nodded in answer to her question, she smiled faintly at them.

"Well then," she said, "what took you so long?"

The ghost of a smile appeared on Halt's grizzled face. "We ran into a few complications along the way," he said.

"Better late than never," Will offered innocently, smiling too.

"Aye," the Scotti diplomat said, nodding, "I'd gladly drink to that."

~x~X~x~

Everything seemed to work itself out fairly nicely after that. The Baron had found and then released the rest of Alyss's diplomatic team who had been locked in the dungeon by his Battlmaster; Halt and Will had released the rest of Rhona MacKinnon's party who had been imprisoned a little ways behind John's camp.

Rhona herself had been more than willing to participate in peace talks. She had told Halt that, when she had been imprisoned by John and his men, John had told her of his connections with the Macleod clan, and how they had paid him and promised him position and further profit if he aided in capturing her. Consequently, since it had been her own people who had caused all the problems, she held no resentment at all towards Araluen for what had befallen her. Confident the threat was over, she had also declined Halt's offer to act as her protection for the remainder of the talks. Since the Task Force's job was done, they had decided to head back.

Late the next afternoon saw Will, Halt, Horace and Gilan in Redmont Feif. Halt had insisted that Gilan come stay with them until he was well enough to fend for himself and resume his duties again; and he hadn't allowed the younger Ranger to refuse. Horace and Will had backed Halt—so had the healer at Castle Devon, saying Gilan's only choices would be to say in Devon infirmary until he healed or go with Halt.

Gilan had protested at first, claiming that they were all acting like "a whole pack of Mother-hens", but had eventually relented. The tall Ranger was smart enough to realize that his friends had insisted on it, not because they thought him weak, or incapable, but because they were genuinely worried and concerned for him. He could easily recognize the love and support behind their fussing, and he accepted it. In fact, he was even a little touched by it.

Besides that, he was a good judge of his own limitations, and he knew that they were right: he wasn't quite well enough to be fending for himself just yet. He'd set himself back a few days with the stunt he had pulled. Aside from destroying any healing of the arrow wound in his chest, he had torn the careful stitches Halt had been forced to put in, because of the sharp rocks of the river, in a couple places as well, and was still a little weak from the injuries and blood loss.

To help them get back, the Baron had loaned them the use of a cart; it had been a long, tiring, and often painfully bumpy road to get to Redmont—despite their careful progress. But, in Gilan's opinion, even that was better than being trapped in an infirmary.

As soon as they had arrived, Halt had gone to report to the Baron with Horace, and to see Pauline. Will had stayed behind. He had just finished helping Gilan settle in the spare bedroom in his cabin.

Will glanced at his friend; Gilan was looking a little better, but he was still worn, pale and a pretty beat up. They had put his arm in a sling to help keep the arrow wounds as still as possible so they could have a chance to mend properly. Until those arrow wounds mended completely, they would all have to be on careful watch for infection, Will knew. His friend still had a ways to go yet. Will felt his smile fade a little at the sight, a heavy feeling settling in his chest.

"Let me know if you need anything," Will said, looking away uncomfortably.

"Thank you," Gilan said quietly.

Will nodded and turned to leave, heading for the door.

"Will, hold up a moment please," Gilan said suddenly.

The younger Ranger turned back to face him.

"While you and Halt were dealing with John, Horace and I had a while to talk and he told me that you were the one who pulled me out of the river. I just wanted to say thank you, you probably saved my life."

Will however seemed almost to flinch as Gilan said it, the small smile fading completely from his face. "It's alright," he managed to mumble before turning and leaving the room quickly.

Gilan's own smile faded to be replaced with a look of confusion and concern.

"Will?" he called after him, but his friend didn't re-appear.

The rest of that day and into the next Will spent as much time as he could doing outside chores, unconsciously trying to stay away from everybody as much as possible—which was, admittedly, a little hard to do when the cabin was so small and both Horace and Gilan were staying there, and when Halt and Pauline had come to visit twice, but he couldn't help it.

Every time he looked at Gilan, or his other friends he felt the guilt gnawing away at him. Surely they all knew that it was his fault. He had hoped that when he had defeated John and fixed that whole situation, it might have made him feel a little better—and it had, but not as much as he would have liked.

Late that second afternoon, Will was sitting under the shade of one of the trees near the little cabin, still angry at, and disappointed in, himself. He let out a low sigh as he stared almost despondently out at the woodland around him.

"Something on your mind?" A voice sounded from behind him and Will jumped.

"I wish you wouldn't do that Gil," Will complained, turning to see his friend. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting."

The tall Ranger only fixed him with a smile as he waited for Will to answer his question. Will shifted slightly when he saw that Gilan was not going to be dissuaded or distracted.

"There it is again." Gilan said suddenly.

"There what is?" Will asked.

"You, wincing every time you look at me. I don't think I'm quite ugly enough to warrant such a reaction."

Will found himself at a momentary loss for words, but Gilan wasn't finished.

"You've been acting odd: you haven't asked Halt a single question all day. You're sitting out here alone instead of talking with Horace. And, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're avoiding me too."

Will closed his eyes for a moment. It was as he had thought earlier; somehow, the older Ranger always seemed to know when something was bothering him. And, like all those other times, Gilan had sought him out. Normally it would have eased his mind, but now he found that it almost hurt. All he could do was feel strangely awkward around him; the brotherly connection he usually felt between them now felt painful and strained. Gilan had to know that it was Will's fault that he'd been hurt. He'd betrayed his friend's trust and let him down.

"It's my fault that you were hurt," he blurted angrily.

Gilan seemed to flinch backwards, surprise written all over his features.

"That's what's been bothering you?" Gilan asked, and then, to Will's surprise, he started to laugh.

"Stop it, Gil, it isn't funny," Will said, and then recalling an earlier incident when he had said much the same thing, he added, "and don't you dare say 'it is from this direction,' because it's not!"

Gilan stopped laughing when he saw the bitter disappointment on Will's face. He shook his head slightly, the smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth.

"So, you set up that ambush, did you?" he asked Will then.

"Well, no…" Will said, stumbling for words

"Or maybe you made me jump in the way?"

"No," Will said exasperated, making a negative gesture with his hands, before he added in a more subdued tone, "But Halt told me to scout the area and I only did it quickly. If I'd been more thorough, I could have seen that ambush line before you got hurt."

"Might have," Gilan said, "but that's no guarantee."

But Will shook his head stubbornly. "My carelessness put us all in danger. I should have been more thorough, more careful."

"True, you probably should have—we all should have. But have you ever thought why you didn't, why we didn't?"

Will was taken slightly aback then, he hadn't considered that question. He had to think about it for a moment.

"I didn't think I had to. I trusted Alyss's messenger, and Alyss," he said finally.

Gilan made a gesture that plainly said 'there you have it.'

"We all did," the tall Ranger pointed out, "At the time, you didn't really have cause to look further. You couldn't have foreseen that: none of us expected that you should have. So you made a mistake—we all did." Gilan shrugged, "What matters is that you won't let something like that happen again, will you? Neither will any of us. 'Should have,' is worthless to think about, after all. Just learn from it, move on, and don't repeat it," he put his good hand on his friend's shoulder. "Will, I don't blame you for what happened; so you should stop blaming yourself."

And as he said it, Will knew instinctively that he was right. Slowly, he felt that uncomfortable weight seem to lift off his chest.

"You know," Will said, placing an arm around Gilan's shoulder in return and walking carefully with him back towards the cabin, "If I didn't know you so well, I might almost have been tricked into thinking you were…" he searched for the word, "wise?"

They both locked eyes, considering, their expressions serious. Then they grinned at each other.

"Cant be," Will said, shaking his head.

"Don't denigrate my few moments," Gilan protested, trying hard to keep a straight face.

~x~X~x~

Alyss came by later that night, having finished negotiations back in Devon. Rhona MacKinnon had turned out to be a very direct and driven negotiator, so they had finished early— and finished well. After everything they had been through to help make it all possible, Alyss had decided to stop by at Will's cabin to deliver the good news before she reported to the Baron.

At that late hour, only Horace and Will were still awake. The three old ward mates sat contentedly on Will's porch, listening to the wind through the trees and other nighttime noises, watching the stars, and simply enjoying each other's company. Alyss moved herself closer to Will, placing her arm around him and resting her head on his shoulder as he strummed his mandola. She took in his familiar scent, enjoying the sensation of being so near him.

She could not help but smile faintly as he busily worked on turning Jessie on the Mountain into Jenny of the Kitchen. She listened as his pleasant voice seemed to blend with the nighttime sounds around them, and could not help but smile at the words in a few places, while Horace chuckled.

.

Jenny of the kitchen,

The lord of pots and pans,

Her ladle ready pitchin',

On interlopers' hands.

.

Ruler of the kitchen,

A cook without compare

But if she sees you snitchin',

You'll wish you weren't there.

.

Jenny of the kitchen,

Her prowess does she tout.

But, if her heart you get in,

you'll never go without.

.

Pastries, pies, and pudding,

And pasties, meats, and stew.

There'll always be good eating

That's filling, through and through.

.

Jenny of the Kitchen,

The Lord of pots and pans.

You'll dread to be a missin'

The food made by her hands.

.

The last pleasant notes drifted off into the nighttime shadows and then Alyss sat up straighter as a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Jenny!" Alyss exclaimed as she turned towards the others. "Have either of you told her about Gilan and what happened?"

And when they both made rather guilty starts, she knew the answer. However, neither one of those two supposed heroes of Araluen seemed to have the courage enough to volunteer to brave Jenny's potential wrath and ladle in order to deliver the news. She sighed in resignation at their response; part of her wanted to roll her eyes and tease them about being scared of a cook, but the other part couldn't really blame them. Jenny, despite her usually happy, friendly and bouncy nature, did have an admittedly fiery temper when provoked.

"I guess that leave me," Alyss said then. This wasn't going to be easy, she knew.

"Well, you are the diplomat," Will said, "I'm sure nobody could find a better way of breaking the news than you."

Alyss raised an elegant brow, glaring slightly at him as she easily recognized the flattery as a ploy.

"Just for that, I might use my diplomatic skills to delegate the job to you, Will." She said icily.

"Me?" Will practically squeaked, wondering helplessly exactly where he had gone wrong, "Why me? Even Horace would be better than me."

"Oh, no," Horace said bringing up his hands, "leave me out of this one."

~x~X~x~

The next morning after he had eaten breakfast, Gilan moved to sit on the floor with his back against the side of the bed. Lying still in the same spot for an extended period of time had gotten uncomfortable, not to mention boring, and he, and his newly aching back, had needed a change. That was how Jenny found him when she made her way to Will's cabin.

"Gilan!" she exclaimed, nearly sounding angry with worry and concern.

When all this was over, he would need a new name, he thought absently. If his name were a horse it would be a rundown old nag because of this little adventure; the thought made him chuckle slightly. He offered Jenny a bright smile as she bent over him. He could not deny that it was more than nice to see her.

She bit her lip as she looked him up and down, that slight trace of anger vanishing. The anger was probably only ever there in the first place because he had scared her. He was sorry about that, he thought as he looked up into her pretty face.

"Did you fall?" she asked him softly, concerned.

"No," he told her cheerily, "I was just resting. Believe it or not, the scenery down here has just gotten remarkably beautiful."

And there was her smile.

"Gilan," she repeated laughing softly.

He was slightly surprised to feel her arms go gently around him as she kissed him. The whole business of getting injured and recovering hadn't been very enjoyable, but this was definitely a bright spot.

"If I had known that getting ambushed would have earned me a kiss, I might have tried it sooner," he said playfully as they pulled apart.

She glared at him for a moment and then shook her head, smiling once more. "Just so long as you don't do it again. Once was quite enough. I'll happily come after you will my rolling pin if you ever try it again," she warned, cheerfully.

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read. Feedback is very appreciated. The epilogue should be up in a few days. *Sigh* I really didn't expect, or mean, for this to get so long, but I guess those are the woes of writing so many characters at once and trying to give them all as equal of amounts of attention as possible, it takes much longer to write... Needless to say, I've learned my lesson XD I hope that you all have lovely weeks!

Side Note: This time I didn't write Jenny's song to the tune of any particular existing song and, since I don't know the actual tune or rhythm of Jessie on the Mountain, I kind of just picked a rhythm and ran with it XD