Tragedy in the Sands- Chapter 3
Authors Note: I'm not in the medical field so any technical medical procedures mentioned in this piece of fiction are fictional as well. I apologize ahead of time if I reference something that does not necessarily belong in this era that RA took place in. Please read and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own RA. John Flanagan does.
Halt felt they were going at way to slow a pace, but in the long run it paid off since going down the cliff was steep. It was even harder for Halt, who did not have his arms as a source to steady him. After carrying Will for about ten odd minutes, his arms were getting tired and sore, but still he refused to hand Will off despite Horace's and Gilan's protests. It was an awful thought but Halt had decided that if Will was going to die then it was going to be in his arms.
It seemed like a lifetime had passed as they reached the main square. The brawl was in the process of being cleaned up. Donkeys walked by dragging lifeless bodies of friend and foe alike, in wagons. It did not comfort the three friends as they realized that Will looked more like the corpses. They picked up their pace and approached a market stall that had been converted into a makeshift infirmary. There were three counters, two of which were occupied with civilians that had got caught up in-between the clashing forces. The healer gestured for Halt to put the young man on the open right counter. By gently lowering Will's body onto the plank and bracing his head to bring it to rest softly on the wood, Halt complied. Afterward the apothecary advised them to not watch the upcoming proceedings; the three companions wandered away to sit back on the executioners stage and awaited the news.
Nobody spoke for the longest time. They just sat side by side and watched people mill by as if nothing had ever happened. Nobody knew that across the square a young man was fighting for his life. Time passed. They anxiously waited. Nature seemed to lend a hand to distract them by casting a brilliant display of reds and oranges on the face of the cliff. It was odd, to the foreigners' eyes, for beauty to be here such a bleak and harsh place. Halt wanted to enjoy the view but he could not, worse still he hated it. The thought that Will might never be able to see another sunset infuriated him.
The three comrades were yanked form their thoughts when Selethen came by dragging a group of Tualaghi soldiers, bound and roped together. He was leading them to the cellar where they would be kept until tried and condemned. One of the prisoners towards the back of the line stopped and stared at Will as he lay on the table being operated on. The man smirked and turned around to rest his eyes on the two men, who were obviously part of the same unit due to likeness in uniform, and sneered,
"That's to bad about your friend. What's that saying? They grow up to fast? Or was it they die to fast?"
Halt was up and off his feet in an instant, seeming to glide towards the man who obviously had a death wish. He drew closer and smoothly drew his saxe knife from his belt.
"Halt! Halt! Relax! He's not even worth it! Think about what's important!" Gilan said as he and Horace laid hands on his shoulders. Halt stopped, but not because he thought they were right, but simply because he didn't feel like cleaning the other man's blood off his clean knife. The only thing stopping him was him thinking, "What would Will do?" Halt knew that he would have been mature enough to show restraint so he struggled to do the same.
The convict saw the barely restrained fury in the small bearded man's face. At first his smug smile faltered when he saw the death in the other man's eyes but his confidence perked back up as he noticed that his partners were restraining the small wiry man. He mistakenly decided to push his luck, for he enjoyed getting a reaction out of the man.
"Yeah that's right, think about what's important. Like the last words that kid is going to hear. How about he hears you screaming while being gutted in front of him? Then he can hear his own while I pay him the same treatment?" The raider's mouth twisting into an even crueler smile as his sick own fantasies built images in his mind.
"To hell with restraint and this man!" Halt thought as he lunged forward with his knife still in his hand. He managed to get a satisfying jab in at the base of the man's collarbone before Gil and Horace pried him away. Neither of them blamed Halt, in fact they were kinda pleased. They had even waited a split second for Halt to be able to land his mark, before pulling him back. They now hid their smirks from a confused looking Selethen as he walked up.
"There a problem here?"
"no no Halt was just informing this "man" exactly what he thought of him." Horace pitched in helpfully and maybe a little to cheerfully.
Selethen wisely just choose to ignore the whole incident and simply kicked and forced the men back into line. He proceeded at the same pace, leaving the now injured Tualaghi to stumble; his previous smirk was gone and was replaced by a grimace of pain. Horace and Gilan walked Halt away to recline back on the steps of the stage. Ever the skandians, Svengal and Erak approached with food; which was just flat bread with some round orange balls of fruit, "They call them Oranges" Erak had said. They handed the bread off to each member, who nodded their thanks but said nothing else. Both the northern wild men were somber as each person silently prayed for Will to be alright.
Eventually, Erak, who could never stand long periods of silence, cleared his throat and said, "He's a strong lad ranger; he'll pull through, and we will be there when he does."
Halt nodded in appreciation. But then his face grew grim as he spoke quietly and deliberately, " I want a 24 hour watch on Will after he…gets out of surgery. I will be on first watch."
Horace looked at him confusedly, " Why? Are you expecting someone to come after him?"
"No, not necessarily I just have a feeling."
"Does this have something to do with what that bastard Tualaghi said?" Gil interrupted quietly.
"Maybe," Halt turned to him, "But regardless, I know Will would like to see somebody there when he wakes up."
If he wakes up, although nobody said it the obvious response hung in the air, making it impossible for the people present to not notice it. Halt's grim face stared off in to space but he still clung to the hope that Will would not abandon them.
"He will wake up." Horace said with just a little bit more force than necessary, but he could sense the declining optimism in the atmosphere.
Meanwhile the healer operating on Will had his work cut out for him. He had to first check and make sure that when he closed up the hole in the young man's side that there would be on internal bleeding. He found a slit in Will's lung and started to stitch it up. During the process Will let a small moan escape from him. It was so faint and it cut off so quickly, that the healer began to wonder if Will was indeed lucid enough to try and hold it back. He quickly checked his pupils and then his pulse; and just for good measure, he dripped 3 more drops of "angel's breath" into his mouth. Returning to his job, he proceeded to stitch up the lung and then continue on closing the laceration in the bowman's side. When he had finished stitching up the gash above the boy's eye and the open wound on Will's head , the sun had been settled behind the cliffs, and the sand dunes, for a long time. He was completing the task of tying Will's dislocated arm on his chest, when the two men who had brought him in returned, along with some other new faces, large new faces.
"How is he? Are you done? Has he woken up yet?" It would have amused Halt, in possibly a different scenario, to notice that he sounded just like Will, always asking more than one question in a single breath.
However the healer just smiled and said," Yes he should be ok. He will need plenty of rest, preferably noting that involves falling out of towers. He will not have full movement in his right arm for perhaps a month or so because it was badly dislocated in the fall. Likewise his side will be very sore as well. I recommend him gently exercising his injured muscles in order for the quickest recovery. His blood loss was great but the body should already be working to make up for the amount he lost. This brave lad will most likely make a full recovery."
There was a collective sigh of relief, faces were lifted, and shoulders that were previously bent in holding a thousand pounds grew straighter. However, the healer was not done yet, with good news came a warning,
"But be careful, seeing what this boy gets himself into in just one day I recommend that you guys keep him on a leash until he can at least walk without holding on to somebody and keep down solid foods."
The surrounding faces nodded their understanding. With approval from the medic, Halt once again slipped his arms underneath Will's back and knees and lifted him up. The procession made their way out of the market and continued to the edge of the town.
I apologize if this chapter was slow. Thanks for reading! And thanks to all the reviewers I have the motivation to make this story longer!