“What?” Crow rolled his eyes sarcastically. “You and I both know I would be useless in a fight. In my profession, we generally try to avoid that sort of confrontation—or any confrontation at all, really. So, would you please—[i]whoa[/i]!” He let out an undignified yelp as another arrow sailed past his nose, a bit too close for comfort, and crouched down on the floor again, returning the knight’s glare. “You see? Completely useless. Now, [i]please[/i] get rid of them.”

He waited for Penelope to climb out of the wagon to join her comrades in the fray before he crept toward the back end, slithering along the floor to avoid getting hit by any of the stray arrows that flew overhead. Now that the knights were engaging the criminals on the ground, there weren’t as many archers shooting their weapons in the thief’s direction, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He pressed his back against one of the corner posts of the caravan and glanced through the rear window. The road was still crawling with the bodies of noble and bandit alike, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. To make matters even worse, Penelope seemed to be lingering as close to the wagon as she could to guard her captive while she fought.

Narrowing his eyes, Crow was just starting to mentally run through his options when the cabin suddenly lurched with the weight of a new occupant. He turned away from the window to see that one of the bandits had slipped past the armored warriors and jumped inside while everyone else was distracted. The man caught sight of the ragged thief in the corner, and a wicked grin contorted his mouth. Seeming to think he’d stumbled upon an easy target, he drew a short sword from a scabbard at his hip and took a step toward him.

Muttering foul things under his breath, Crow leaned into the post behind him and hurriedly looked for an exit point, but the cursed wagon was too tight. By the time he scrambled to his feet, the enemy would already be upon him. He turned back to the man with a grimace. So much for getting away without a fight.

With no time to think, the thief just did the first thing that came to mind. As the bandit tensed to bring down his sword, he leaped forward, bowling both of them over and knocking the weapon out of his hand. Pinning the dazed man down beneath his weight, he retrieved the hidden dagger from his boot and held the blade against his throat, although he didn’t press down hard enough to draw blood. He was a thief, after all, not a killer.

“Yield,” Crow hissed, scowling at the bandit to appear as intimidating as he could.

The enemy swallowed and nodded his head vigorously, falling for the act. Crow let him up and kept the small blade trained on his chest to deter him from making any sudden movements. The improved plan was going as well as he could have hoped. He forced the man to the edge of the wagon with a shove of his non dominant hand. “Now kindly get out of here,” he flourished, thrusting the bandit over the side and then kneeling down to slip the dagger back into its sheath in his boot. It had proven to be more useful than he had first expected, so he decided that he would keep it.

He glanced over his shoulder at the other side of the cart, where the knights were still fighting off the last of the bandits. Fortunately for him, they were still distracted, so he hadn’t missed his chance. He slipped over the far side of the wagon and ducked underneath it while he looked for the safest exit point. The stolen dagger had helped him fight off one bandit, but it doubted it would protect him against more of them. He wasn’t going to make a run for it until he found a path that wasn’t dangerous.