Crow froze when he heard the sound of quiet rustling in the foliage behind them, followed by the snap of a twig. In the next instant, Penelope began to reach towards her boot. She probably had a weapon hidden inside, which wasn’t surprising since she still didn’t trust him. Before retrieving the weapon, however, she paused and seemed to change her mind, instead slipping her hand into her pocket and pulling out the key to the chains that bound their wrists. In one swift motion, the knight freed their hands and began to move for her boot again, but their enemy was much quicker.

[color=fdc68a][b]“A knight without her sword is about as useful as a thief with no hands,”[/b][/color] a cold, feminine voice taunted as a blade appeared beside Penelope’s throat.

Crow whirled around to see a blonde woman standing over Penelope. She dressed like a wolf in sheepskin. She was adorned with the ragged, woolen clothes of a peasant, but he could see that she was of a higher class than she wanted to let on. Her skin was clear, her hands had no calluses, and she smelled like she had recently bathed. He eyed her warily. Just how long had this woman been tracking them? He hadn’t heard a single sound from her until only a few moments ago. Her stealth was impressive, even to him. She also didn’t look half bad. It was a pity that she wanted to kill them, otherwise he might have been tempted to try and steal a kiss or three.

While the woman was busy threatening Penelope, Crow reached into his own boot and retrieved the dagger he had taken from the wagon. He sprang forward, knocking the attacker’s sword away from Penelope’s neck and forcing her to the ground. He held the dagger up for her to see, “Unfortunately for you, this thief [i]does[/i] have hands.”

“Get off of me!” the woman snarled, struggling to escape from Crow’s grasp. As she spoke, her eyes darted back towards the woods she had come out of. The single glance told Crow all he needed to know: She had backup out there. They had to move quickly.

“Sorry about this, darling,” Crow said. He spun the dagger around in his hand and used the butt of the weapon to deal one quick strike to the noblewoman’s head. She fell unconscious and he climbed to his feet with a sigh, muttering to himself, “I hate hitting women.” He turned to face Penelope. “We should run before her friends get here. She’s not alone.”