Crow muttered another curse under his breath as one of the mercenaries began advancing towards William. Like the attacker from the previous time, these guys must have been tracking them long enough to know that the older knight was the only one among the three of them without a weapon to defend himself.

He glanced between the two men and then towards a nearby alley, where he suspected at least one of the others was hidden. It was already bad enough that they likely outmatched him and the knights in skill, but even worse than that was the fact that they were outnumbered. He had never seen so many mercenaries in one place, chasing the same targets. The reward on their heads must have been substantial if the killers were willing to team up for a split profit.

[i]Were they really hired by that group of rebel nobles?[/i] Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what to think anymore. It didn’t seem likely that the group they had come across would shell out so much money just to get rid of them. They had been greedy and power hungry. It seemed far more likely that they would have kept their money to themselves and plotted to kill him and the knights without paid help. However, he couldn’t think of any other explanation for the mercenaries’ appearance, so he pushed the concern aside.

[color=fff79a][b]“When I move, get to the horse,”[/b][/color] Penelope’s hushed words drew his attention back to the matter at hand, and he nodded, trusting whatever plan she had come up with.

As soon as she ran to William’s aid, Crow did as she had told him to. He hurried back to take hold of the reins of the stallion that stood near the edge of the road, taking advantage of the fact that all eyes were off of him in that moment. He gave it a tug, but the animal remained firmly planted, unwilling to move towards the sounds of the battle.

Shifting his weight, the thief looked up at the stallion and swallowed nervously. Even though he had been riding along with Penelope for the past few days, he had spent most of the time dozing, so he still didn’t know much about how to control it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to think. He had to do something or he would end up being just as useless to the others as he had been last time.

[i]Here goes nothing,[/i] he thought with a sigh of resignation.

Crow planted one foot in the nearest stirrup and swung himself onto the horse’s back. Taking the reins in his hands, he noted absently how strange it felt to be on top of such a large animal without someone who knew what to do to make it obey him. However, he didn’t have time to dwell on the thought. He reached over the side of the horse to retrieve the quiver of arrows from the saddlebag he had stowed it in, following suit by drawing the bow from the makeshift strap he had tied around the stallion’s belly.

Finally armed with a weapon he felt comfortable using, the thief turned his attention back to the battle. He looked up just in time to catch sight of one of the mercenaries pinning Penelope to the ground beneath his large boot. The scene sent a wave of panic through him as he saw the man reaching for one of the weapons attached to his belt.

[i]He’s going to kill her,[/i] he realized, eyes wide with fright. Snapping out of his shock, he remembered that he was holding a bow in his hands. There was still time if he acted fast.

Crow quickly drew an arrow from the quiver and loaded the bow, forcing himself to take a calming breath so he could shoot straight. He took aim at the mercenary’s chest, pulled back the string, and loosed the arrow. Being of the back of a live animal, he didn’t quite hit his mark, but the weapon still did its job.

The man let out a howl as the projectile pierced him in the right side of his torso and spun around see who had attacked him. His eyes narrowed as they landed on the thief.

[i]Oh gods,[/i] Crow stared back at the mercenary as he realized he was now the target. He glanced back over his shoulder to see if there was an escape route, but one of the first mercenaries had reappeared in the road behind him, blocking his exit point. The only way out would be to fight. He turned back to the man, who had drawn a foreign looking broadsword and was now advancing towards him, wielding the weapon like a shield in case the thief was to loose any more arrows.

Crow’s eyes flicked towards Penelope for a split second before he focused on the mercenary once more, his gaze hardened with resolve. “Come on,” he challenged as he loaded another arrow into the bow. “[i]Vastāyi![/i]” he repeated in Gorman, recalling that the other mercenary they had faced had known that language.

The man laughed, as if he found the thief’s words amusing, before he launched himself at him, his sword still raised as a shield.

Crow drew back the bowstring and let fly the arrow, but the mercenary managed to block it with his weapon. “Dammit,” Crow spat. He was beginning to feel panic well up in his chest as the man got closer. He tugged sharply on the horse’s reins, trying to convince the animal to move, but it only turned its head. “Come on, you stupid beast,” he snarled. “Move!” In a fit of anger, he drove his heels into the stallion’s sides. To his surprise, the motion seemed to convince it to go. The stallion took off just as the mercenary was about to slash his sword at the thief’s leg, cantering along the wall of the closest building.

[i]This was a bad idea,[/i] he thought, heart racing as he tried to figure out how to get the wild horse under his control. [i]Why did I ever think I could command this thing?[/i]