Crow braced himself to take off when Penelope agreed that they should try to outpace the other travelers. As William followed after them, the thief glanced back over his shoulder to see that the two men weren’t giving chase, but had split up to head down opposing streets instead. He frowned concernedly. He knew they hadn’t given up that easily, but he couldn’t tell what they were trying to do. There was no way they could catch up by taking a different street while he and the knights were galloping down a straight road. It didn’t make sense. There had to be another reason.

[i]What if we’re already surrounded?[/i] the thought came to him suddenly, and he blanched, hurriedly turning back around in the saddle to look forward. Of course! It was the only thing that made sense. The two men in the rear had split off to cover the exits while their comrades in the front were going to cut off the three from passing. He cursed and turned to tell Penelope his theory, but she and William were caught up in another argument.

[i]Arrogant old fool![/i] Crow thought scathingly, shooting the older knight a glare. “Hey!” he called out, trying to get their attention, but William was too caught up in the moment to notice his urgent tone. He was just about to try again when a sudden flash of movement caught his eye just up ahead. A new rider had appeared in the road, blocking their path.

“Look out!” he shouted to Penelope, but it was too late. They were too close to stop now. He inhaled sharply as the stallion reared up beneath him. In the next moment, he felt Penelope’s weight fall into his chest as she lost her grip on the reins, sending both of them crashing heavily to the ground.

Crow laid on the road in a daze as he tried to catch his breath from the impact. He could see William off to one side, trying to calm his frightened mare. It seemed that he had managed to just barely hold on when his horse had bucked. Off to the other side of the street, the stallion he and Penelope had been riding was bobbing its head and pawing nervously at the ground after having been spooked by the new arrival.

Knowing the danger was far from over, he forced himself to climb back to his feet despite a protest of pain in his lower back. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and reached to draw the closest weapon he had: the dagger in his right boot. Holding it up in a defensive stance, he took in the rest of the scene around him.

There were now two riders in front of them on large, brown quarter horses. They were big, just like the mercenary who had attacked him and Penelope before. However, the detail he found most off-putting was that the men were armed to the teeth. A number of different weapons hung from belts at their waists and sashes across their chests. Some were familiar to Crow, while others were completely foreign. There was no doubt in his mind now that they were paid killers.

[i]These must be the people Aeklora was warning us about,[/i] he thought, his eyes flitting cautiously between the two men in front of him. He slowly edged back from them as he tried to think of a way out of the situation.

“What the hell is this?” William’s furious voice interrupted the brief silence. The knight had managed to regain control of his mare and was now glowering at the strangers with unbridled rage. He was so angry that he hadn’t even bothered to use the Younisian accent he had been rehearsing. A few bystanders cast him looks of surprise and began whispering amongst themselves.

“Not good,” Crow muttered, glancing worriedly at Penelope. They needed to get away before the local knights learned of their position or the situation would become even worse.