Happy Holidays to those that celebrate! Here's another chapter. Reviews are always appreciated. Peace. :)


The air was thick with the sounds of battle—metal clashed against metal and arrows screeched brilliantly overhead. Arsinoe held herself as close to the horse as possible as she neared Rickert's cart. He was outpacing three horsemen with arrows on fire, but not by enough.

Shit…

Rickert hadn't noticed her by the time she was closing in. She knew if they fired those arrows, he was wide open. There wasn't enough time to think. She just shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Rickert! DOWN!" He obeyed the foreign voice impulsively. He looked back up and saw Arsinoe riding toward him just as an arrow roared past his ear, the fire singeing his hair. He shuddered. An arrow hit the cart and the wood quickly burst into flames. He gasped the action of the moment compelled him.

"My bow! Throw me MY BOW!" She screamed, reaching out to him. He fumbled around for a bit and produced the bow from the flaming cover and threw it to her. She caught it and slipped her thumb up the back of the arrow rest and a hidden latch unhooked. In its place a hidden blade shot out on each of the two new halves connected by the bowstring. She reached out for him to join her on her horse as he was just grabbing a quiver of arrows. He stared slack-jawed at The bow's transformation almost dropping the arrows a she scooped him to the back of her horse.

"Hold me tight," She screamed through her veil. This was turning into one big mess as they plowed straight into Rickert's pursuers. She gracefully threw one of the two halves of her bow at the oncoming archers and it cleanly slit one of the horse's throats before recoiling to her hand by the connecting wire. The horse came down with a tumble clearing their path, and she road straight through.

"That's amazing," Rickert exclaimed as she snapped the bow back into its proper shape. She reached for the quiver of arrows he was holding and rested one between her teeth and another in her hand. Now was not the time for heroics. It was time to get out!

The veil flew around her face as the two rode with the wind to the head of the scrimmage.

"We got company," Rickert shouted. He was right. One of the brigands was hot on their horse's tail. They were too slow to outrun him properly, but Arsinoe was preoccupied with another looming problem ahead.

Arsinoe released her first arrow into the back of a brigand antagonizing Casca—clearing the path directly ahead of them, then reared her horse to sweep behind and meet her own pursuers in the eye with the arrow between her teeth. She slowed her horse and took up the reigns of the dead man's horse.

"Go. We're too slow," she said flatly—her voice chesty and deep. Rickert got the message and hopped up on the stolen horse then broke away from her toward the tree line. His heart was beating as fast as the horse's hooves when he finally realized Arsinoe had broken her silence. He blushed again.

Meanwhile, Griffith had his hands quite full with pursuers. His shining armor was as good as a target for the keen-eyed bandits. They knew he was the leader and threw their best men at him. He railed against one outlaw toppling him from his horse while blocking another's arrow fire. But there were still four more to replace the one he had killed, and ten more to replace them if they failed. He was losing time and time was of the essence.

Arsinoe saw and knew he was in danger of capture. She took three arrows from her quiver and strung her wiry bow between bleeding fingers. It was an act of desperation. She gnashed her teeth and sent the arrows flying. One missed. One sank into the flanks of a horse causing it to buck the rider. The third wedged itself between the plates of armor of another fighter. He hissed in pain and Griffith took the chance, lodging his sword up the man's chin. When the thug fell dead Griffith saw Arsinoe in the distance restringing her bow. He instinctively braced his face for attack, but to his surprise her arrow sailed past him and lodged into the neck of another bandit. Griffith's eyes widened, trained on Arsinoe who sailed toward him.

His path clear, he rode on ahead of her and in time they made it to the tree line. Rickert, Casca, and Guts had already made it. The others were still in the heat of battle but closing in. Arsinoe tumbled off her horse and knelt into a tree steadying herself with her arms. She was exhausted. She waited to catch her breath while Griffith looked on.

"You're bleeding," he said calmly looking at her blood tricking up her outstretched arms from her fingers. She turned and stood with her bow resting on her shoulder. She stood immobile and passive.

"She's armed," Rickert exclaimed looking at the tricky bow.

"She's got no arrows," Casca said.

"That bow's not a bow. It's two swords!" Arsinoe looked at him like a chiding older sister. "And…and…" he started to trail off.

"And what?"

"And, she saved me back there with it…" Rickert admitted bashfully.

Griffith kept a lax hand on his sword as he dismounted his horse and slowly walked toward her. She didn't move. Always reflective- a mirror, a mimic. He stopped within striking distance and then unsheathed his sword. His eyes rested on hers tensely. Their breaths stopped a moment.

He dropped it to ground at his side. She responded in kind, slipping her bow off her shoulders to the ground with a graceless thu—her eyes still meeting his. He smiled. She grinned. He approached her and cautiously clapped a hand on her slight shoulder. She returned the gesture on his opposite arm and bowed her head.

"Again, you've helped us. It seems as though I am in your debt, and I still don't even know your name."

She responded with silence. He sighed.

"So be it, woman. You…you are deceptive," he said releasing her shoulder and walking to her side, eyeing her from her head to toe. "You're clearly a better fighter than you let on, and it's…possible you are a fortuneteller."

Griffith was silent a moment. Arsinoe shifted her feet.

"But in the mean time, you are bleeding," he said taking up her hands in his and wrapping them cautiously in bandage he produced from inside his shoulder plate. She sighed softly. "You have helped us yet again, Sin. Your help will be rewarded." She looked up at him inquisitively.

"I think at this point, binding your hands is unnecessary," he said looking her en her down-turned eyes. "You will be free to move about the camp as you please. You are under my protection from here on out." He turned to face the men and in his most authoritative voice proclaimed:

"The red woman is in my care. If anyone would protest this, or harass her in any way, you will answer to me for your transgression."

His declaration was met with groans of protest from the men, but no one man dared speak loud enough to be heard individually.

"In the night, you'll return to me in my tent."

She eyed him cautiously seeming taken aback. He sighed.

"Unless of course you'd like to take your chances with them," he said and she looked back at the eyes of many men who leered at her from afar. She scowled.

"You see my point," he grinned. "I will not harm you. You have my word."

Arsinoe looked down at her hands.

"I'll leave my sword by the door, beside your bow."

She waited a moment to grin then offered her hand. He shook it, and that was that.

Curiouser and curiouser. Just what sort of man are you, Griffith?