NOTE: I don't own any of the characters from Ranger's Apprentice! I just own Will's family and the country of Quarize.

2nd NOTE: I have a week full of tests, quizzes, and doctor appointments. The next chapter won't be up until LATE Sunday through Tuesday of NEXT week. Making that very clear so I don't get too many questions.

3rd NOTE: Look down below (after chapter end) for a little something I came up with over my vacation. Decided you all might like another little peek into my book.

Review and Enjoy!

Unknown Blood Chapter 15

It was the shouting that woke Will up. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to dim light. High above him was a thin window. Craning his neck, Will listened. No words were discernable but he detected an air of excitement and urgency. His stomach twisted deep inside. Today was the day. The war against Araluen has begun.

Lowering his head back down, Will waited for someone to fetch him. Bruce and Othon made it clear that they needed him along. He knew their roads better than anyone else. Whether Will willingly helped or not, they would destroy everything. No man, woman, or child would be spared if found. All the fields would burn. The livestock would be slaughtered for their men's amusement. Tears pricked Will's eyes as he remembered their final words on the subject.

"Your friends will be spared long enough for the war to end. Once done, they will die right in front of you. Then we'll hang their bodies for the crows and beasts to feed upon. That way we purge you completely."

Will's eyes turned away from the door. There, not three feet away, was a dark stain on the smooth floor. The memory rushed back into Will's mind. He could still see that one blue eyes looking at him with sorrow. Will remembered every convulsion. All the bruises and injuries were branded into his memory. The worst part of all was that sorrowful smile. Grayson was dying a horrible death but all he could think about was that he had failed his master. The tears fell.

So much for a happy family.

So much for his dream of a loving father.

The lock turned with a loud click. Those brown eyes darted to the door. A snarl curled up Will's face as Bruce stepped in with a plate of food. All of Will's favorites. It was if Bruce truly cared about the son he locked away. Bruce seemed cheery. After all, his plans were proceeding as planned, for the most part. Even the dark look Will was giving him did not seem to faze him. He gave his son a warm smile, as if encouraging his son to lighten up. Carefully he knelt down before Will.

"I brought you your favorites. With our travels coming up, you won't be able to eat some of these. Too hard to cook on the road," Bruce said, the laughter in his voice.

Truth be told, the aroma was making Will hungry. Then Will saw the dark stain once more. Like a hot knife, the memory drove into his heart once again. His eyes did not move from his father. Suddenly he lurched forward, his knee coming up, and knocked the plate from his father's hand. Bruce's smile faded a bit. It vanished completely as Will spat in his face.

Will bared his teeth at Bruce, "Go to hell, murderer."

"I see we haven't accepted fate and order as of yet," Bruce sighed, wiping the spit from his cheek. "Well, that was breakfast for you. Guess you aren't hungry."

He rose and snapped his fingers. A "servant" came in and cleaned up the food. Another came in with new chains. Bruce took out a key and unlocked the bonds holding his son to the wall. Then proceeded to attach the new ones. Once done, Will's wrists were bound side-by-side behind his back with a long chain going up to his throat. Any movement to unlock the chains would result in either injury to his shoulders and arms or choking. Render and five other massive men were waiting at the top of the stairs. As they came from tower, "servants" separated to let them pass. It was then Will began to notice something…

Hope.

As they went to their knees, the "servants" looked upward at him. Hope shined in their eyes. Bruce and Othon were crushing the freedom from them. When Tyler tried to rebel, he was quickly subdued. Now they saw an heir who was not going to back down lightly. Should Will take the throne, they knew he would stand behind them. He had already leaped to their defense times before. Small things, yes, but he still cared about them. They were equals in his eyes. Like Grayson before them, each "servant" he passed was going to aid him. He was far from alone.

Halt and Gilan spurred their horses along the river. Tyler had said this river led to the large harbor of Thornguard. From there they would sail for Araluen. Quarize, according to Tyler, had learned years ago that they needed to be ready for any attack. Such understanding had led them to learn and master all crafts they could get their hands on. They learned cavalry attacks from the Temujai. Skandian sea wolves taught them to sail. To the deserts they went to learn the value of bribery and unit fighting. Celtica taught them how to destroy another country's infrastructure without ever lifting a blade. From an unknown land beyond the deserts they learned how to forge weapons as strong as the Ranger saxe. That is why Quarize had survived for so long when surrounded by nations determined to destroy them. Now these men were turning their sights on Araluen. Tyler said that Quarize would leave nothing in its wake. The reason: Will had to be purged completely. If even a speck of Araluen remained then he could turn against his family.

"I won't let them, Will." Halt thought determinately. "They won't destroy Araluen. They won't make you become something you're not."

It was three days in when they heard the trumpets. Quickly they dove for the bushes. Scout ships sailed by. The trumpets were message signals being sent back to the main camp. On foot the two men raced through the trees. So close to finding Will. They had to hurry before they were spotted and their mission a failure. Reaching a rise, they slowed and carefully looked over. There, spread out in ordered rows, was an army bred for destruction. Knights practiced with each other. Men-at-arms tried to comfort each other. Out of everyone in the camp, the men-at-arms were more likely to die. Their king and lords cared little for their lives. Halt nudged Gilan, pointing to a large pavilion directly in the center. The king's quarters. Tyler had informed them that Bruce and Will (and himself) were from royal blood. Halt figured if they were going to keep Will anywhere then it would be where no one could reach him. Thus, they would place him beside the one man no one could possibly touch, not with all those guards and knights around.

Halt leaned close to Gilan's ear and whispered, "Leave your cloak here. It's a dead give-away that we aren't apart of this army. Go around the north side, near the river, and make your way to the command tent. I'll go from the south side."

"Of course. Be careful, Halt. Will would not want you risking your life for him," Gilan replied softly.

Halt had to smile at that, "Indeed. The same goes for you."

With nods, the two split apart and went in their different directions. Halt's area was far hillier than Gilan's, taking him higher up. He wanted that. From such a vantage point, Halt could estimate numbers, ranks, and risks all at the same time. Kneeling among some bushes, he took out a pen and paper. Quickly and accurately he began to draw what he saw. Then his pen stopped moving. His heart began to beat rapidly. He could see Gilan starting to walk towards the camp. He was still well in the trees so no one from camp could see him. That was not what scared Halt. It was the small group behind Gilan. Even from this distance, Halt could clearly make out a recurve bow and glinting tip of an arrowhead.

Bruce tightened his grip on Will's shoulders. Will bit his lip, not wanting to do it. His hand trembled as it held his bow. The razor sharp tip slowly followed its target. The tall man had been wearing a Ranger cloak. Will knew only one man who embodied both attributes: Gilan. He was here. Most likely he was coming up to see why Will had not been communicating. Finding the army, he was investigating to try and understand. Unknown to his friends, the water scouts were being led by men on the shores. However, they had only spotted one man at the time, reporting it back. No one knew of the second Ranger that was nearby. As Halt raced towards them, Will closed his eyes and bit his lip…

Then lowered the bow.

With a shuddering breath, he hissed, "I won't kill a friend."

"He is not your friend. Araluen is not your friend. It is only your family that matters," King Othon spat angrily.

Will glared at him, "Araluen raised me. They are as much my family as you are."

"Then how's this," Bruce began, his voice cold, "Either you kill your friend or we will capture him and torture him to death. You think what we did to Grayson was wrong? Well, I promise to do much worse to him."

Will's heart broke like glass hitting rock. Those brown eyes turned back to Gilan. The Ranger had stopped, watching the camp proceedings from a safe distance. Then Will spotted something else. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement. It was not easy to pick up. Another Ranger was here. Then Will felt a smile touch the corners of his mouth. It was most likely Halt. No matter what happened, Halt would be there to help Gilan.

The arrow came back up. Will focused on Gilan's form. "Please don't move Gilan," he begged silently. Then the arrow was away. The twang echoed through the small canyon that they were in. Gilan began to turn…

The arrow lodged itself in his back…

He crumpled to the ground and did not move.

"No!" Will's mind screamed. Gilan was supposed to get shot and run. But he did not move. Tears appeared in Will's eyes. The bow dropped to ground. He had killed. He had killed another Ranger. He killed Gilan! Will felt his father's hands clapped him on the shoulders. His praise came to Will's ears from a long way off. Will could not move. All he could do was stare at his friend's body. The chains were clapped back on him. With that, he led away, back to the ship where was held prisoner.

"Halt…I'm so sorry. I didn't want it to happen…I'm sorry…"

I'll leave you with that. See you all in a little bit. Please keep me in your thoughts/prayers.

As promised, another little look into my book. Will and Halt somehow (I'll leave that up to you) end up in Sadhare. Things don't quite go as planned. This is like any other fanfiction. Hope you all enjoy!

Tug and Abelard raced through the trees as fast as they could. Both riders were leaning over necks, cloaks billowing. Shouts were ringing through the trees behind them. Armored men astride powerful, long-legged horses appeared behind them. Halt cursed angrily. It seemed that the Ranger horses were standing still compared to these new horses. He could swear that it would be much horse if these new horses ran without armor. It was a marvelous feat: breeding such fast and powerful animals. Old Bob and his family would quit the business if they knew that someone had outmatched them.

But now the scenario brought little comfort to either Ranger.

Thunder rolled above them but no rain fell. Lightning sparked almost constantly, dancing through the sky like white, flaming snakes. The tall, thick trees watched the chase in darkness. Besides the rolling thunder, the cracking lightning, and the drumming hooves, everything was quiet. Will knew it would be peaceful here. Now, however, his heart was in his throat and his breathing was shallow. His nerves were stretched thin in fear. He had also noticed how Tug seemed unable to lose their pursuers. These horses were putting the Arridian stallions to shame. He glanced over at his mentor, praying that Halt had a plan. The grim look on Halt's face was enough to dispel any hope Will had.

Another flash of lightning crackled in front of them. A dark tree was almost instantly engulfed in flames. Tug and Abelard braced themselves to stop. With a resounding THUD, the massive oak fell to the ground. To their right was a steep hill. To the left was the flat forest but the trees grew too thickly for them to gallop through. Spinning their horses on their back hooves, Halt and Will prepared to fight. The soldiers had slowed their steeds. Long, razor sharp spears lowered. These men fought best in the saddle. Their armor was designed to repel arrows, even from the powerful longbow. Of course, no armor is perfect but these foreigners did not know the weak points. It would be an easy fight.

Together, as they were trained, the men clapped their heels into their horses' sides. Instantly the animals broke into a gallop. Tug and Abelard reared, hoping to protect their masters from the spears. Will turned Tug, his longbow singing along with Halt's. The arrows hit, dented, then bounced off the armor. Still those spears came at them. Soon all the arrows were gone. That's when the men pulled up their spears and drew swords. Halt did not think. He spurred Abelard between Will and the men. His longbow arced outward, forcing the men to duck. Now the new horses balked, too close to the rising flames. Will and Halt's bows forced several to retreat. The odds, however, were stacked against them. One of the soldiers grabbed a rock and threw hard. It struck Halt squarely on the back of the head.

"HALT!" Will screamed as his former mentor fell to the dirt and leaves.

Snickering to themselves, the men closed in on Will and the two horses. Abelard, unable to get to his master, pressed close to Will. The young man was trustworthy. Surely he could save Halt. Will would have laughed at that thought. He doubted he could save himself, let alone the both of them. The burning tree was far too close for comfort. Tug and Abelard were dancing awkwardly. Their tails were dangerously close to catching on fire. Will thought hard, eyes darting around with lightning speed, but he saw no way of escape…

Until he heard the drumming of hooves…

And saw the men look beyond the burning tree…

From the flames came three arrows. They were razor sharp, the tips small, and shot with precise accuracy known only by the best of the best in the Ranger Corps. Men screamed as these arrows found the intended holes, lodging into skin and bone. Will saw the men pale with horror…and absolute terror. He turned back to tree just in time. Leaping over the tree, through the flames as if they were not there, was a red-chestnut horse. Metal from chest and shoulder plates gleamed ominously in the firelight. Chainmail and leather gloves covered the arms. As the horse landed, Will heard the slithering hiss of steel being drawn. A long blade, longer than any sword Will had ever seen, flashed in the rider's right hand. Will could easily see the image of a snarling wolf carved into the top of the blade, right below the hilt. The image was not small and it made Will's stomach twist with fear.

The new person galloped past. The soldiers simply turned and fled. They had no interest in fighting this person. They knew all too well the skill gap between them. Will felt hope flash in his chest. It vanished the moment he noticed Halt, bound hand and foot, slung over the back of horse. He spurred Tug into a gallop, racing after the man who had his mentor. Abelard galloped right behind them. The man looked back, smirked, then paled. The chestnut horse shot past Tug, gaining on them. Metal sang as their blades crossed. Will reached for his mentor, hoping to at least knock him off. It was then the man wheeled his horse away and into the trees. Will turned Tug around, planning to follow. It was then the rider crossed his path and stopped. Tug snorted angrily at the mare, for the red-chestnut horse was a she. Will started with surprise. The rider was also a female. Her brown hair had been cut to shoulder length. Brown eyes and a slight frown on the face made Will want to shrink away.

A deathly cold voice snapped softly, "Come."

Will did not know why but he obeyed, spurring Tug and Abelard after the woman. Her long blade had returned to its sheath. Will spotted her longbow in a sheath on the saddle's left side. Another interesting twist. Will had thought only Ranger's used the longbow. Then again, this country was unlike any he had ever seen before. Not only that but the crest this rider bore was unlike he had ever seen before: a ball of fire.

I'll stop it there. The next, and final, piece will be up with the next chapter.