All was chaos and confusion. Horses screamed and men shouted. An ogre bellowed in pain as three men menaced it with spears pushing it back. A hand gun went off and a gout of brains blew out of the top of its head in a shower of gore, the great beast toppled and smashed one of the lean to's to pebbles and kindling, smashing a hole in the low wall. The bandit attack had been a bold move, although up close they didn't look much like merchants. Scruffy bearded men leaped from beneath the covered wagons, one of which had been pulled up to block the gate. Emmaline saw a man lose a hand to the wrist, spinning away only far enough to be stabbed through the back by the rusty sword of his assailant. The reek of blood and ammoniac sweat from the horses was everywhere. "What do we have here!" one of the bandits leered and grabbed at her, catching her wrist with dirty fingers and yanking her towards him. Something writhed and then the bandit screamed falling back and clutching at his wrist, the snake twisting back into a wristband. Black lines were already spreading up his arm as he fell to his knees. "Shize, shize, shize," she cursed, ducking away from another man who grabbed at her and pulling the blanket up around her head to conceal her blonde hair. One of the ogres roared so loud it was physically painful as he reached down and snatched up one of the bandits, biting the man in half in a shower of blood and vicera. Emmaline racked her brain for some spell, some piece of magic she could perform, but her mind was a blank and formless as the ocean. Fortunately Amal chose that moment to arrive, his horse rearing. She was reminded for a moment of the magnificent horses she had seen in Araby. Imperials bragged and Brettonian's postured about their horses, but neither of them could hold a candle to the great Arabyians. She reached up and grabbed Amal's hand and he jerked her up. Emmaline promptly overbalanced and fell belly first across the horses rump. "Good enough," Amal muttered, pinning her down against the horse with a hand and then kicking his heels to the beasts flanks. The horse jumped forward, vaulting over a guard who lay on the ground, blood seeping into the dirt. "That way!" Emmaline shouted, feet flailing as she tried to point towards the break in the stone caused by the fallen ogre. Luckily Amal had already seen it and he wheeled the horse around and through the gap. The horse plunged down the side of the stoney hill, horseshoes striking sparks from flint in the loose shale. The horse kept its feet and Amal wheeled it round, he really was handy with that rope Emmaline thought somewhat inappropriately, and then they were on the southbound trail hammering south under the stars, leaving the shouts and clashing steel far behind, Emmaline draped over the back of the horse like a sack of grain.