Crow had almost gotten within shouting distance of the knights when the third mercenary reappeared by Penelope. He paled as the man swung a mace that connected with her side, sending her retreating to recover from the blow. [i]Damn it,[/i] he slowed to a stop, clenching his jaw in a mixture of frustration and worry. He hadn’t been fast enough to warn them, and now the killer was chasing after the female knight on horseback to finish her off. Without a horse of his own, there was no way the thief could catch up to help her. She would be on her own for now.

As he caught his breath, Crow turned towards the battle that was still raging on between William and the remaining two mercenaries. Being outnumbered and mismatched in arms against the skilled fighters, the older knight was struggling to hold his ground. A dark red stain had appeared in the right sleeve of his shirt, indicating that he had taken a hit as well.

The thief averted his gaze from the wound, unsettled by the sight. He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right as he toyed with the idea of leaving the knight behind. He hated William already, and the man had really been grating on his nerves recently in his efforts to separate him from Penelope. Would it really be such a bad thing to abandon him and just save himself and Penelope instead? His eyes drifted towards the far side of the street as he was drawn by the temptation to forget about William and go after Penelope.

He took a step forward and then wavered, glancing back at the knight one more time. As much as he wanted to leave William to be killed by the mercenaries, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He hated the older knight, but not enough to throw him to the wolves when he knew he could do something to help.

[i]I’m probably going to regret this,[/i] he sighed, casting one last, wistful glance down the open road before turning around to run towards the fight.

Being on foot, Crow was disadvantaged by the mercenaries’ steeds. As he approached them, he had to be careful to avoid accidentally setting himself in the path of any of the horses. He weaved between the legs of the animals as he looked for a way to get close enough to either of the attackers to hit them with the staff.

By this point, the others had noticed his arrival, although neither of the mercenaries seemed to consider him threatening enough to pay much attention to. They continued to bear down on William in an attempt to overpower him. The knight also ignored the thief as he focused intently on staving off the two attackers.

Crow tried to work his way around to find an angle where he would be able to hit one of the mercenaries in the leg with the staff, but their horses were too mobile. Every time he got close to one of them, they would shift just out of his reach again. He glared at them and let out an irritable huff. It was becoming apparent to him that the staff was only a viable weapon when his target was on the same level as him. It was time to try a different tactic.

He hitched the staff to the strap of the quiver on his back and pulled the bow from off of his shoulders. Maneuvering away from the group to stand at a safer distance, he lifted the weapon and notched it with an arrow, took aim at the closest mercenary, and loosed it. The man let out a grunt and looked down at the arrow shaft protruding from his waist, then back up at the thief who was gawking at him from the side of the street, shocked that the mercenary was so unfazed by his attack. The man went on to pull the arrow from his side, grinning smugly at Crow as he snapped the shaft in half and tossed both pieces aside before resuming his assault on William as if he had only been stabbed by a splinter.

[i]So now these guys are huge,[/i] and [i]they don’t feel pain?[/i] Crow groaned inwardly, shouldering his bow again and reaching for his dagger instead. [i]This just isn’t fair.[/i] He circled the fight as he tried to come up with a new plan of attack. However, his strategizing was cut short as the mercenaries finally began to overpower William.

The man Crow had shot positioned himself behind William’s mare and drew a halberd from a belt on the side of his own horse, readying the spear-like weapon to strike the knight while he was occupied with the other killer.

With no more time to think, Crow sprinted towards the mercenary and grabbed hold of the halberd before the man could run William through with it. The mercenary looked down at him and shouted something as he tried to wrench his weapon free from the thief’s grasp. Crow dug his heels into the ground, obstinately holding on with both arms. His heart raced as he tried to come up with a way out of the situation. He had managed to get this far, but he had no idea what to do next. All he knew for sure was that he couldn’t let go of the halberd or the mercenary would kill William and probably take him down too.

Fortunately, his improvisation gave the older knight enough time to realize one of his attackers was missing. William spun around on his horse and then paused as he took in the surprising sight of the thief struggling against the mercenary, his eyes roving to the halberd as it seemed to connect in his head that Crow had stopped the man from killing him. He raised his brow in confusion but didn’t move, as he was unsure how to react to the unexpected situation.

In his intent to keep the mercenary restrained, Crow took no notice of William’s look of surprise. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he fought back against the man’s powerful arm that threatened to wrench the halberd from his grasp.

Suddenly, someone punched him in his right side. He looked up again to see that the other mercenary had come around to help his companion. But the sight was confusing. The man was still on his horse, nowhere close enough to have thrown a fist. He frowned, [i]I could have sworn…[/i] Lowering his gaze, he looked at his side where he had felt the impact and then let out a startled yelp, releasing the halberd.

A short dagger was embedded in his chest, halfway up the length of the blade. While his body was too filled with adrenaline for him to feel it yet, the sight of a weapon protruding from his own torso made him feel faint. He stumbled back against the wall of a nearby building, bringing a hand up to the hilt of the dagger. It felt to surreal. He wanted to be sure it was really there.

Absently, he was aware of the fight that had continued on after he released the mercenary’s weapon. William had managed to use the mercenaries’ momentary focus on the thief to turn the tide of the battle into his favor. He threw his dagger at the man with the halberd, striking him in the throat and killing him instantly. The knight then rode his horse up beside the dead man’s and retrieved the mercenary’s sword.

Now in a one on one fight against a skilled swordsman, the remaining mercenary seemed deterred. He eyed William for a moment before turning and galloping off down a side street in retreat.

With the threat finally gone, William rode over to Crow, who was still staring at the dagger in his chest in shock. “Come on, thief,” the knight growled. “We have to move.”

“Am I going to die?” Crow’s voice was tight with panic. “Oh gods, I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“You’re not going to die,” William snapped impatiently. “Hurry up and climb on, and don’t touch it until we can stop to clean it properly.” He looked down the road where Penelope and the final mercenary had disappeared earlier. “We need to get Penelope and get out of here.”

At the mention of Penelope’s name, Crow came back to himself a bit. He nodded dazedly and tore his gaze away from the blade in his chest, forcing himself to move away from the wall and climb onto the back of William’s horse. Once he was ready to go, the knight spurred the mare onward—though he circled back to grab the reins of the rider-less stallion first—down the road to find out what had become of Penelope.