Petrified, Will looked as Hal slowly fell from the railing towards the deck. Thorn caught him, to then awkwardly keep him upright to make sure no extra pressure was put on the wound that now decorated Hal's stomach. Edvin left the tiller for what it was and wasted no time in getting towards them. He had a blank expression on his face, which Will had by now recognized as his professional, concentrated healers-expression. In one smooth motion, Edvin broke off the side of the spear sticking out of Hal's back. Hal didn't seem to notice. HE stared at the bloodied spearhead that came from his body, a somewhat concerned look on his face, as if he was wondering what the thing was doing there.
Thorn slowly lowered the skirl to the deck and let his head rest on his lap.
"No, not you. Not like this. Not now. Why? Not like this. Not like..." he mumbled, softly rocking back and forth. The expression on his face was terrible. Ruined. Crazy. Marked by old and new sadness and loss. Deparate.
Will hadn't moved. He just stood there, aghast. How could this have happened? Everything just seemed to be getting better. And why did that spear need to hit such a critical spot? If it had been just his leg, everything would be fine! He knew there was no point in asking 'what if' question, but he had grown quite fond of the young Skandians in the short time he had spent with them. He realized that he, if he had been able to, would have protected Hal from that long weapon. An intense feeling of hatred towards the Scoti arose inside him. He had been angry and shocked with the inhabitants of Picta before, but now...
Back in reality, he realized that everything had turned chaotic around him. Thorn was slowly going hysterical, and most Herons had grouped around their skirl, which Edvin did not seem to appreciate all that much. Will decided that the situation had to change, to give Hal a chance.
"Listen carefully, everyone!" he exclaimed. Relieved, he found that his voice was not quivering and he managed to grasp the Herons' attention immediately. The looks on their faces were desperate, as if they were begging Will to make everything right again with his 'ranger's magic'. He took a deep breath before continuing: "Hal is hurt," he stated, earning him a few angry glances, "which means he needs help. While we are on this ship, Edvin is the only one who can give him that help, so give him some space to breath!" Edvin looked up for a moment, a grateful expression on his face, and then continued with whatever it was he was doing. The others stepped backwards, very aware of the mistake they had made while panicking. "However, we can give Hal more help, by getting ourselves the hell to Skandia, to get a professional doctor over there." Several heads started nodding and expressions of hope returned to their faces. No one moved though.
"What are you waiting for? Stig, you are the only candidate left to take care of the tiller. Ulf, Wulf, I've seen you handle the sails a lot lately. Do it again. Everyone else, through those remaining Scoti overboard and get your butts to the oars! The sooner we arrive in Hallasholm, the better!"
Stig ran over to the tiller, and somewhat shakily called out some orders to the twins regarding the sails. They, too, started moving and slowly but steadily the ship continued on its path towards the port. Will helped with throwing the remaining Scoti overboard, which provided him with some distraction, even though it was a gruesome job. As soon as the deck was cleared, he glanced over to the horizon. It was going to take some more hours before they would arrive at the coast. Critical hours, which they could not afford to lose. Hal needed help right now.
Hal stared up towards the clear blue sky. Something was tingling in his belly, but he couldn't tell what it was. His entire body seemed to have gone numb. He knew damn well what had happened, and he knew that Edvin was trying his best to do something about it. Of course, both of them knew it wasn't of any use anymore. The urge to close his eyes became overwhelming. He felt so peaceful, so sleepy...
"Hal, open your eyes and keep them open," a voice ordered. Hal frowned a little. But he didn't want to open his eyes! "Keep your eyes open, Hal," the voice repeated. Something in the voice assured him that he needed to obey. A vague muttering sounded somewhere to his left. Were they still trying to help him? But... why? He wasn't that important, was he? There were more than enough promising skirls left in Skandia. And... Wait, what? No, Hal thought, it is not over yet!
He tried to fight the sleepiness, the urge to close his eyes. He directed his gaze to where the voices and the muttering seemed to come from. He vaguely recognized Thorn, and Edvin. Will was there, too, engaged in a conversation with the healer. Thorn met his gaze, an expression of despair on his face.
"No, this can't be happening. Not like this. Not you. Not the same way as... as hím," Thorn mumbled. Hal was surprised to see his older friend close to tears.
"Thorn..." he tried to say. He noticed that his voice was weak and breaking, and it took a lot of effort to speak. He coughed. Thorn's gaze focussed and returned to Hal. The skirl gathered all the willpower he had in him, to continue speaking. "Thorn. Don't... don't worry."
Thorn looked at him, a blank expression on his face. "If... if I don't make it," Hal continued, his frown deepening. Thorn furiously shook his head.
"That won't happen! No, it won't, it can't, it..." he exclaimed. Hal interrupted him.
"Thorn. If... Watch over... watch over the Herons. They... will need you." He coughed ago, longer than the previous time. His vision was starting to blur.
"No! Hal! Don't say that, don't say... the same..." Thorn's voice broke and his body started shaking. Hal was surprised to find the big, tough Skandian crying. For him. Then it dawned upon him that what had happened to him was the same thing that had happened to his father. He had also been pierced through by a spear. All of this must be reminding Thorn of Mikkel's death. This angered Hal. No, stupid Scoti, you won't succeed in this! he thought. I refuse to die!
He tried to focus again, fought to stay conscious.
"Thorn," he said again, his voice a little more powerful this time. "I am not my father. It isn't over yet. I am not planning to die, neither here nor now!" He met Thorn's gaze, determined to live up to his words. Much to his surprise, Thorn started laughing.
"You might not be your father, but you are just as damn stubborn as he was!" he remarked through his tears. Hal chuckled, which wasn't such a good idea. He flinched for a moment, and sent the startled Thorn a crooked grin.
Concentrated, Will and Edvin were working to keep Hal alive. One mistake, and everything would be in vain. Hal's conversation with Thorn had exhausted the skirl, but it had got him to fight. His pulse was weak, but steady. Hal had fallen asleep, a hint of a smile still on his face. Edvin had giving Thorn the task to pay attention to Hal's breathing. As long as it continued properly, they didn't need to worry about that.
Eventually Will ran out of jobs he could help Edvin with. Their investigation had ended, surgery was what needed to be done now. And Will wasn't a healer. He got to his feet, worriedly glanced over to Hal again and then walked around the deck. He noticed that Stefan was hurt more badly than he let on. He anxiously kept his hand pressed to the cut in his side, hoping that he could hide his wound so that all medical attention could go to Hal. Which was exactly what had happened. Will told him that it was high time that he got some help as well and urged Stefan to remove his hand. Luckily, the wound itself wasn't all that bad or deep, but the young Skandian was losing a lot of blood. A few minutes later, the wound had been properly binded by the ranger, allowing Stefan to finally relax a little as well.
Most others weren't hurt in such a way that they couldn't take care of it themselves, fortunately. Once he had finished his walk around the deck, Will frowned. He missed something... or someone.
"Evanlyn? You can come out now," Will exclaimed, stifling a laugh, when he noticed the girl still curled up in her hiding place. She opened one eye, which stared up at him in fear. Will felt the urge to facepalm. He hadn't even thought about how scary the passed few hours must have been for the girl. He extended his arms to her, inviting her for a hug. Within a few seconds she had crawled out of the small space, to throw herself into his arms. He pulled her close, knowing she was on the verge of tears.
"Calm down, little one. We're nearly there. It is all over," he mumbled, hoping he was right.
Karina hurried towards the port. Erak had sent a messenger to notify her that a triangular sail had been spotted on the horizon. He tended to do that more often, considering she usually was very busy in her restaurant, too busy to notice that Hal returned. She was relieved to find the Herons coming home safely again. The message about the war in Araluen had startled her more than she had let on. Erak had also invited her to meet with his guests from her homeland. They had informed her about what had happened exactly, that nobody actually knew how things had escalated into war and that the Scoti had just randomly started killing and plundering.
It was a weight from her shoulders to hear that Hal and his friends were no longer in that dangerous environment. A relatively big crowd had already gathered by the time she arrived. The new popularity that the boys had gained after recovering the Andomal caused that every time the Heron came in. Everybody seemed to want to see how this brotherband arrived home. Even if it was after a holiday trip. A feeling of pride came over her, but she was slightly irritated as well. She believed that she, along with the other parents, should be standing at the front. However, most of them were standing all the way at the back, unable to break through the crowd to see their kids. Karina, stubborn as she was, refused to let some townspeople stop her from being there for her son; neither did Stig's mother.
The two of them cheerfully greeted one another and waited for their sons together. Karina frowned slightly when she saw that the sails came down and oars were readied. Normally, Hal wouldn't let such a good opportunity to show his skills and sail into the port go by. Besides this, Karina suspected that he was amused by Erak's reactions to that kind of actions. She shrugged. Maybe he thought it would be too risky today. Hal was usually sensible enough to not be too reckless.
But as the little ship got closer and closer, she could see that the oars weren't moving as fluently as they usually did. They didn't move fluently at all, actually. Also, it wasn't Hal, but Stig, at the tiller - and he wasn't looking happy. His mother exchanged a worried glance with Karina. Both of them knew damn well that this was a bad omen. The Heron was clumsily steered towards the beach, instead of the pier, but nobody jumped off board. No sound come from aboard the ship. Slowly, the excited muttering of the crowd died down. Everyone wondered what was going on.
All of a sudden Thorn jumped out onto the beach. He struggled to get a grip on the sand, but managed to accelerate anyways. He sprinted towards the crowd, which hurriedly make some room for him, a look of determination on his face. A startled mumbling erupted from the gathered people. Barely a minute later, the warrior sprinted back, carrying some kind of bundle in his arms. Karina, feeling tense as hell, decided that this cryptic situation was too much for her and made her way towards him. Reluctantly, Thorn stopped where he was to turn towards her.
"Thorn, what is going on?" she asked, demanding an answer.
"No time," Thorn mumbled and he continued running, dodging her arm that tried to stop him. Karina followed him with her gaze, an expression of anger and indignance on her face. A feeling of dread washed over her, as she realized that Thorn would never treat her like this, not if he could behave any other way. Something bad was going on.
She noticed Horace and two women - Cassandra and Alyss, if she remembered correctly - standing amongst the crowd, some distance away from her. They had probably been notified that Hal was back as well, and considering his ship came from Araluen, they must be hoping that their friends were aboard the ship. Karina had no doubt that Hal would take refugees with him, but the chances were slim that he'd actually run into them. She thought the entire situation was exhausting. Why did grown up men always feel the need to wage war?
Will furiously hoped that Thorn would be back in time. Hal had reached the critical point of now or never. Edvin had sent out the big Skandian to go get clean water and equally clean cloths. At first he had refused to leave Hal's side, but that had resulted in him getting in Will's and Edvin's way. Beads of sweat were blinking on Hal's forehead, which was awfully pale, as was the rest of his face. Things were really starting to look bad for him. He was still unconscious, but he didn't seem to be sleeping anymore. Will felt like screaming; the level of frustration he had reached was excruciating. He had no idea how to save Hal from this situation.
Finally he returned; Thorn. He hurriedly crouched down besides them.
"Is this good enough?" he asked tensely. He had a bucket of water with him, some relatively clean clothes wrapped around it.
"It'll do," Edvin remarked, already working on untying the cloths. He gestured for the others to give him some space; unconsciously, the other Herons had gathered around Hal again. Will was sent away as well, which didn't help him reduce his frustration. He wanted to help! He knew damn well that his medical knowledge was insufficient, but a ranger simply needs to feel useful. It would be a long, long day...
"I don't believe it!" Edvin exclaimed half an hour later, causing all the gazes to be turned towards him immediately.
"What's going on?" someone asked. Will couldn't believe his eyes.