A/N: OLAF! It's me, IFYOUCOULDFLY! Another day, another upload! So good news: I'll be able to keep at this for a long time! :D! I had a large commitment that was getting in the way of my personal, but that's over now! So prepare for more fanfics ;P…alright, Tug, disclaimer please. Tug: *Nickers Me: Oh yeah….you're a horse…fine whatever. John Flanagan owns Ranger's Apprentice, and I never will, blah blah whatever…*sigh. Tug: *whinnies
-CHAPTER FOUR-
*Gilan's P.O.V*
They had been riding for nearly a day now, and Gilan was starting to wonder if he was the only one getting tired. He glanced over, just to see if there was any hope at all for a rest, but saw the same sight as usual. Tug was still leading them hurriedly through the woods, and Halt looked to worried to sleep at all. He sighed. "Fat chance…" he mumbled to himself. "Of what?" Halt asked suddenly, not taking his eyes of the shaggy pony ahead of them. Gilan rolled his eyes. "I forgot, nothing gets by you. I was wondering about a possible chance of a rest, but it seems that you…"
Suddenly, Tug stopped and stood still, whipping his head around. Halt was already on the ground, looking for signs. Gilan shrugged and swung his leg around the saddle to accompany his former mentor. He squinted at the ground. "There's a part here where the leaves are tossed around, like somebody was kicking the ground." He said, but Halt shook his head. "No, more likely someone-Will-was being dragged. See? Here's a shred of his cloak." He held up a tattered piece of material that had been clinging to a rock. Gilan nodded, then continued looking. There were no signs of a fight, which he pointed out to Halt, who agreed. "And that's what bothers me most. I doubt he-"
"Over here!" Gilan said, holding up a thin cylinder with a needle at the end: a dart. Halt frowned. "That explains a few things." he muttered. Gilan nodded with satisfaction, stuffing the dart in his belt. "It seems," he remarked, glancing over Halt's shoulder, "that there's a clear path of tossed leaves from here." Halt quickly agreed, but with a glint of suspicion in his eyes. "A little too clear…" "Like they wanted us to follow. What do we do?" Gilan finished. His former mentor glared. "What else can we do? We're going to follow the path. We can't just leave Will!" Gilan nodded hastily. "I wasn't suggesting-" "Oh, weren't you?" The old Ranger turned and stalked away, jumping on Abelard once more.
Gilan sighed and mounted Blaze. "I guess I'm not the only tired one," he thought, quickly following the Ranger ahead of him.
*Will's P.O.V.*
Will opened his eyes and panicked. "Where am I?" He thought frantically. He tried to move, but found that his arms were bound. "Sleep well, Ranger?" A cold voice cooed in mock innocence. Upon hearing the voice, everything came rushing back. "Vasanistis…" he mumbled, shuddering as he realized where he was.
Snap! Will cried out in pain as his newly formed cut reopened. The stinging sensation of Brutus's whip was all too familiar. "Now, now, Treaty, this is going to be a very long day if you don't cooperate. What is my title?" Will clenched his teeth. Every single part of him wanted to say something snarky or sarcastic, but he knew it would result in pain. "Sarcasm…that reminds me of somebody…" to his alarm, he had forgotten who it was. "HALT!" He thought suddenly, remembering. He was relieved, but startled that he could have forgotten his mentor so easily.
"I'm waiting…" Vasanistis called impatiently. Will suppressed a groan as he said through clenched teeth, "Lord Vasanistis." The smile on the wicked man's face made his blood boil. "See now, my young friend? You're already starting to crumble!" He giggle with sadistic glee, like a child presented with a new toy. For some reason, Will was very bothered by this. "Vasanistis couldn't be break me already…could he?"
*Halt's P.O.V*
Something was troubling Halt. It just didn't add up in his mind. The path they were to follow was mind-numbingly simple, and what's more, it was leading them straight into Larkshire, a small town by the coast where residents were known to be particularly nosy. Anybody passing in or out was noted. They had a knack for picking out people to be suspicious of, and were eager to gossip. "They seem as though they want to be found," Halt thought grimly. He had an odd sense they were walking into something very dangerous, and whoever was behind it was expecting them.
"HALT!" A voice shouted from ahead. He looked up expectantly, only to see a guard. "Oh, right," he thought, "that Halt." The guard, seeing his smirk, glared. "Who might you be? State your business!" Gilan cleared his throat. "We're King's Rangers, and we're just passing by." The guard instantly gulped. "Oh…of course, it's just…." "Just what?" Halt cut in. "Well-there was some one else here, 'bout three nights back, same cloak as you two…" The pair raised their brows. "Brown hair? Thin? Short?" Halt asked quickly, spirits falling as the guard shook his head. "No…just a cloaked guy, maybe your age," he said, pointing to Gilan, "and had this weird look about 'im. He and is buddies were carryin' somethin', a big crate-" Tug snorted, interrupting the guard, and the two Rangers exchanged a worried look. The guard, confused, started up again. "Riiight… anyways, later that day, they caused some trouble. Took a ship of ours, sailed right off. And 'fore you go askin', I don't know where they went, just that a rescue ship is 'bout to sail on out, lookin' for it."
Halt nodded swiftly. "Thank you," he muttered, then continued on, riding through the streets, Tug and Gilan in tow.
*Will's P.O.V.*
The typically pompous smirk on Vasanistis's face had vanished long ago, replaced by one of anger and exasperation. Again and again, the whip cracked on his back, again and again, Will cried in pain, but again and again, he refused to answer to his captor. "TELL ME!" Vasanistis erupted. "TELL ME WHERE THE RANGER CORP IS STATIONED!" Each day it was a new question, each day no answer. Today, however, the normally calm son of Morgarath was snapping.
Will had told himself over and over not to reply, knowing it would result in misery, but this time he couldn't resist. The pain was so unbearable, it was hard to imagine anything worse. "For God's sake, Vasanistis, don't you think I would've told you sooner if I were going to?" He instantly regretted it. 5, 8, 10 times the whip cracked on his back in rapid succession. Finally, the young Ranger slipped into unconsciousness, unable to bear the pain any longer. Vasanistis glared at the figure with deep hatred. "Take him away!" he snarled to the guards by the door.
"Brutus." He barked once Will had been dragged away. "Yes, my Lord?" the burly figure grunted. "Next time, don't use the whip." For a split second, shock flashed across the servant's face as he realized what was to happen, but quickly regained his indifferent manner. "Of course, my Lord." He nodded, and he couldn't help it; he felt sorry for what was to happen to the young Ranger.
*Horace's P.O.V.*
Larkshire was a troubled village. There were whispers, he knew. Of Wargals coming back from the mountains, murdering villagers who were out past dark. Horace typically dismissed such rumors, but something told him that not all was as it seemed in Larkshire. Being a knight, his job was to protect endangered citizens, so he had made his way to the small seaside town. At the moment, he was in a popular tavern, awaiting any suspicious gossip from the townsfolk that could lead him to discovery.
His gaze flicked across the room, and he quickly made his way over to a large huddle of people. He couldn't see the center through the close-knit group, so he tapped the shoulder of a nearby man, who turned around, clearly annoyed. "What's going on here?" He asked, ignoring the man's glares. His face brightened, eager to gossip. "Well, there're these two guys here. Kinda strange-lookin', if you ask me, but that's none of my business." "Since when has that ever stopped any of you?" He thought."They're askin' 'bout that hooded guy, the one who stole the ship." Horace nodded, word traveled fast in Larkshire, so he was familiar with the story. He was about to ask for further information when a voice called his name from the middle of the huddle.
He glanced around, and was shocked to see two of the people he'd never have imagined to be there. "Halt? Gilan? What are you doing here?" The older Ranger shook his head. "I'd ask the same of you, but I don't think we can talk here." He said, eyeing the curious onlookers, who awkwardly looked away. Horace nodded. "I've got a room set up nearby. We can talk there."
Later that night, Horace told them the story of why he was there, and Halt told him theirs. After listening, the young knight leaned back in his bed, rubbing his temples. He was worried. Will was an outstanding Ranger, it would be hard to capture him unless somebody knew what he was doing. "I'm going with you," he said, to make sure there was no confusion. Halt, however, had different opinions. "What about Larkshire? You can't abandon a mission!"
Horace shook his head. "I have a feeling," he said, "that they're connected." The Rangers, again, raised their eyebrows. "You can't mean-" Gilan started. "Oh, yes I can." Horace said.
A/N: *sigh…sorry this chapter sucked. I know it's really long (and really crappy), but I had to fit in a lot of crap to get the story moving. Hopefully the next one won't be as bad!...but anyways thanks so much for everything! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING! Keep reading and, rest assured, I'm NOT abandoning this story (though you may want to after this chapter)! Next upload tomorrow!-FLY