Here it is Chapter 11! A lot of activity in this chapter, I must say it is not my best of Chapters but it's definitely got something the others don't.
Your supposed to learn from your mistakes, but how can ya do that if you don't know them? Please read and review! I want to make this as good as possible and I need to know what I might be doing wrong! Any good or negative comment is valued! (Except flame...)
For a moment, Gilan thought that Strider might be out of her mind. He kept the opinion to himself and instead knelt by her side, she had her head in her hands and Gilan squeezed her shoulder tenderly. She wasn't injured, other than a few sore ribs and being winded, she was physically unharmed. When she pulled her hands away her eyes were clouded with trouble and grief, she leaned her head back against the tree.
Gilan spoke softly, "Why is your brother trying to have you killed?"
"He's part of the Cult, I'm a Shadow, that alone is enough to want someone dead. Don't think I'm in league with him, or the assassins." She gestured to the assassins.
"Do the rest of the Shadows know?" Halt watched Strider carefully.
"They know, and most of them see me as an enemy because of it."
"But they trust you," Halt said, and Strider shrugged.
"They do, but only because of Fell. Fell trusts me, and the Shadows trust Fell's own judgment, the majority of them have come to overlook who my brother is. They think I've proved my worth and loyalty. For other's it simply isn't enough." Strider's words held a note of finality.
Strider and Gilan stood in unison and Strider nudged the unconscious assassin with her boot, disregarding the dead assassin. Her eyes had hardened slightly, and the momentary breakdown was concealed, shoved into a deep, dark corner of Strider's mind.
"Do with him what you want, I've got to get back to camp." Her hazel eyes smoldered with an emotion Gilan couldn't identify.
"By yourself?" He questioned and Strider nodded.
"I'll be fine, if they're more assassins I can outrun them." I hope, she pushed the thought away and smiled in farewell. Strider's words left no room for negotiation, and Gilan nor Halt objected. She pulled the cowl of her cloak up, tugged the mask into place and slipped into the shadows, this time being sure to stay out of sight as much as possible.
Halt and Gilan watched her go, their eyes carefully searching the Shadows for any more attackers. Once she was gone from sight Halt and Gilan made their way back to camp, the injured assassin slung unceremoniously over the back of Blaze.
Strider arrived back at the encampment well after dark, the camp was relatively quiet, the fires had been doused, sentries had been sent out for the night, the rest of the Shadows were tucked away into their tents. The only light came from the moon over head, and a yellow glow in a window of the small cabin. Strider passed her own tent and went to the cabin, she opened the door and it creaked softly. Fell looked up from the maps and charts laid out in front of him at the oak table.
"Hey, your back." Fell looked surprised and Strider closed the door behind her. The dog leaped to his feet and trotted to her, she scratched his ears and moved towards Fell.
"Yeah, it was a long walk, I didn't think you'd be up so late."
"Something happened, a messenger of the Cult was caught, with this," Fell pushed a scroll towards Strider, she examined it carefully, settling into a chair next to Fell. She found herself staring at detailed plans of an attack on the Faladore Village. She gave vent to a sigh.
"The village won't stand a chance, when is this supposed to happen?"
Fell looked at his Deputy, his voice was soft. "Three days."
"From now?"
Fell nodded. "We've got to do something about this, we can't let the Cult take the village."
"How in the world are we supposed to do that Fell? This says there will be at least forty of the Cult, twenty mounted, twenty on foot. We can't fight against those odds, not when our forces are stretched so thin." Strider was outraged, for more than one reason.
"I know, but the Meric Knights are still close by, with their help we could make a stand. We wouldn't have to win, we'd just have to delay the Cult for a little while." Fell noticed the distracted look on his Deputy's face, "Are you alright?"
Strider nodded, "Yeah," she made the mistake of answering hesitantly, and Fell looked at her critically.
"Something's wrong, I can see it in your eyes, Jane." Strider looked up as he called her by her real name. Only he and Kerjack knew her birth name out of all the Shadows, but they rarely ever called her by it. It melted her, to hear someone call her Jane, she gave in. Strider suddenly felt like a young child again, she wanted the walls of her responsibility's to stop toppling down and crushing her beneath her mistakes. The sound of her name was something like music to her ears, and she felt subdued, she sighed and told Fell about the assassins. He rose from his chair and moved closer to Strider, ignoring the sting in his side, she felt his hand wrap around hers. Fell guided Strider to her feet.
"I'm scared Fell," Her voice cracked, and Fell pulled her to him. His arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. Strider rested her head against Fell's shoulder, the pungent scent of fresh clover seemed to radiate from him, and it comforted Strider. Fell was warm, and Strider wasn't sure she wanted to let go of him. His voice was calm and soothing, she could feel it rumble in his chest as he spoke quietly to her.
"I not going to let him hurt you Jane, I promise."
Strider slept threw the afternoon the next day, no one woke her and once she realized how late it was she fumbled around blindly in her tent, tugged on breeches and a fresh tunic and stumbled out of the tent. She was hopping on one foot and tugging a boot on the other as she made her way to the small commandment cabin. Fell and Marek were sitting at the table in the cabin, leaning over maps and scrolls. The table was covered in them, and Strider felt the beginning of a head ache at the thought of studying them.
"Morning sleepy head." Fell was smiling at her, but she wasn't sharing in his obvious cheer at her late rising. The previous night seemed little more than a dream to Fell, and he took notice of Strider's resumed strength, she didn't look very fearful to him anymore.
"It's the Afternoon, I overslept. I thought someone was going to wake me."
Fell nodded, "I told them not to, you needed the rest."
Strider opened her mouth to object when Fell cut her off. "You'll need all the rest you can get, you and Marek are going to the village to show this to the Knights." Fell was holding the Cult's captured battle plans against the village and Strider felt her stomach sink as she remembered the night before. It all came back to her, she felt it wrap itself around her like a morning mist. Strider shoved it away as her leader continued.
"I expect you to both to be back by nightfall, without news of a conflict. That means no fighting with the Knights, if they don't agree to an alliance, we'll be forced to fight a battle we can't possibly win. We can't afford to ignore this battle, there's too much at risk." Fell's voice trailed off into silence, he could see from the stern looks on his comrades faces that the message was clear. He smiled encouragingly and sent them away, calling a farewell after them.
"Good luck."
Gilan was on watch when Marek and Strider stepped forth from the tree line. The Ranger had already spotted them moving threw the trees, now he could see the faces of the two Shadows, he stood and waved to them from the block of masonry he had been crouched beside.
Marek waved back and they approached warily. They had their cloaks on their shoulders and their masks around their necks. Gilan watched them carefully, he wondered for a moment what their intentions might be, he couldn't think of a reason for them to show up at the Faladore village. The Ranger hoped they wouldn't make it a habit in the future. Cedric and The Ranger's had agreed to keep the Shadows presence in the forest a secret from the villagers, they'd decided it would be best for the existence of the Shadows to be known to as few people as possible.
"Hey Gillie, how you been?" Marek was grinning broadly, Gilan simply grimaced at his nickname.
"Fine, what brings you here?" Marek caught the disinterested tone in Gilan's voice and he smiled wider.
"So it's going to be like that eh? All business and no play? Maybe I'm on the wrong side of this war." Marek grumbled slightly, but his eyes danced with laughter.
"In a second your going to be on the wrong side of my foot," Strider shot Marek a warning glance as she spoke, he shrugged it off, knowing such a threat even when carried out would pose little threat to himself.
"We came to bring you something," Strider pulled a rolled up piece of parchment, the edges were roughly cut and the paper was far from white. She passed it to Gilan, the Ranger unrolled the scroll and stood silent for a moment as his keen eyes skimmed the lines written in black ink.
Gilan sighed once he was finished, he looked up at the Shadows his eyes were troubled. "We should talk inside, Halt and Cedric need to see this."
The Shadows followed Gilan, he led them into the Faladore Inn. The Inn was bereft of activity. The Inn keeper stood wiping a clean cloth against imaginary dust on the spotless countertops, the few table scattered through out the small space were cleared and spruce looking. Gilan directed them to any empty table and instructed them to wait while he fetched Halt and Cedric. The two Shadows shuffled nervously to the table, they settled in the oak wood chairs wordlessly. Marek could feel the gaze of the Inn keeper burning into him.
"I don't like this," He whispered to Strider, all sense of his earlier humor was just a memory.
They were sitting near the fireplace, and they had a good view of the stair case as Gilan returned with Halt and Cedric trailing after him. Strider leaned closer to Marek as she whispered to him.
"I don't like it either, there's nowhere to run, but I don't think we have a choice." Marek bit back a reply as the Ranger's and Cedric settled themselves around the table. It was a tight, uncomfortable squeeze, and Strider and Marek stayed to one side of the table, closest to the door, Cedric noted. Wary glares and gazes were exchanged before Cedric broke the tension.
"Something you wanted to show us?" Cedric prompted.
"We captured these plans from a messenger working with the Cult, we thought it would only be fair if you were warned." Strider laid the scroll on the table, Cedric and Halt each examined the document critically.
"When is this supposed to happen?" Strider felt a hint of déjà vu, she had asked the same thing, and she felt it harder to speak the truth than hear it.
"Two days from now."
Cedric looked furious. "If that's all you came to tell us you can go."
Marek shook his head. "The Cult is our enemy, as well as yours now, they want this village and they're going to fight for it. We know them inside and out, but we still can't take them on against these odds."
"What are you suggesting?" Halt prodded.
Strider's hazel eyes flared in the dim light, "An alliance."
Cedric looked aghast, "An alliance? With you, a bunch of thieving bandits not fit to wield daggers?"
Marek looked at Strider with a pained expression. "I don't think you hit him hard enough,"
"You could always give it a try Marek," Strider's comment led the loud cracking of Marek's knuckles in his massive hands. The sound was unusually loud, and Strider could imagine a clap of his hands similar to the cracking of thunder.
The stony glares that met the Shadows from across the table dashed Marek's brief excitement, and he let out a gusty sigh. Strider scowled and continued.
"Look, if all your going to do is judge us because of our habits then we'll let you fight this battle one your own. I've never been much of a strategic thinker, but I'm quite certain that forty to fifteen is not plausible."
There was a moment of quiet consulting among the three men across from the Shadows, once they seemed to reach a decision they faced the Shadows.
"Fine, we agree. You ally with us for this battle, but that's all."
Marek was shaking his head before Cedric had even finished in his reluctant tone.
"Oh no, you are allying with us, this way we've got the upper ground in case you decide to stick a silvery dagger in our back." Marek was grinning, and the gesture was infuriating to Cedric.
"Your worried about us sticking a dagger in your back?" Cedric was astonished.
Strider nodded, "Just because were thieves doesn't mean were never on the sharp side of the blade." Gilan suddenly felt sympathetic for the Shadows, what Strider said was true. They were losing a battle that could be potentially disastrous for all of Araluen.
"This battle is as vital to you as it is to us. This is how it starts, one village at a time until your surrounded, all that's left to do is surrender." Marek's demeanor had changed, his eyes held a stony sadness, his memories seemed to flare to life in his eyes.
"This isn't a risky alliance for us either you know," Strider said suddenly, seeing the chagrin looks on the faces of the Araluens'. "Were bringing a legend to life by giving up our secrecy."
Halt's eyebrows raised in a question, "Your giving it up?"
Strider shrugged, "It's unavoidable, if we agree to an alliance we'll be sacrificing our existence, or well nonexistence. Besides, Araluen has to know about the Shadows of the South sooner or later."
They went threw the agreements at a timid pace, they finally came to the end of they're debating with an hour or so of daylight to spare. The Knights would fight under their own leadership, as would the Shadows, the commanders would work together to form a plan against the attack the following day. Once they had settled the basic compliances, the Shadows prepared to leave. Strider stood and Cedric offered his hand, she shook it, and Marek smiled.
"It's always so touching when enemies become allies, don't you agree?" His question was met with cold silence.
"We've got to get back to the encampment, Fell's expecting us." Cedric and the Ranger's nodded their understanding, suddenly the door to the Inn swung back on it's rusty hinges, Collin hobbled in. He had an axe in one hand and wood shavings clung to his jerkin, he had just finished chopping fresh firewood. The instant he saw the Shadows he froze mid stride to stare at them, his eyes widened in fear.
"You're the demons from the forest!" Cedric opened his mouth to object, and without warning Collin swung his frail arms towards Marek and Strider. The sharp edged blade of the rusty axe arced sloppily for Strider, she ducked under the blow and surged forward. Collin was given no time to aim a second blow as the Ranger's, Shadows and Cedric all rushed forward. Marek got to Collin first, almost toppling Strider in the act, he held the man a foot off the floor by the nape of his neck as Gilan pulled the axe from Collin's hand. The little man shrieked his protests and Strider slipped past him to the door.
"I think it's best we be on our way now,"
Cedric nodded his agreement, Marek fumbled uncomfortably and set Collin back on the ground, patting the man's rumpled jerkin before the bulky figure of the Shadow followed Strider ungracefully out of the Inn at a lumbering jog.
Once outside Marek turned to Strider as he fell instep with her, "I think that went rather well.'
Strider let out a snort of contempt, "Oh yes, axes and all."
Fell listened intently as Marek and Strider relayed the events of the meeting to him and Kerjack. They'd arrived back at as the sun began to set, and they spoke over dinner which Kerjack had happily cooked. Strider yawned tiredly, she hadn't realized how exhausting it was to trek from the Shadows encampment to the Faladore village until that day. She didn't like it, and from Marek's irritable grumbling and complaints, neither did he. Fell dismissed them and Strider walked slowly back to her tent. She had a small tent to herself, she had to duck under the low entrance but she could stand at her full height once inside. The overall size of the tent was caught between pathetic and deplorable, but Strider managed. Her bedroll was spread in one corner, in another were stacked a small pack of extra gear, saddle bags held most of it. Clean clothes held their own place on a tidy stack of books. A lamp hung from the wooden frame of the tent, and Strider felt no need to light it as she dropped her weapons into a pile and kicked her boots off. She tossed her arm guards into a pile of their own, along with her cloak.
The disheveled tent was home to Strider, and she liked it just the way it was. It took her another minute or so to drowsily toss her trousers and tunic into another pile to be dealt with when the sun rose. She slipped under the light covers of her bed roll and let out a sigh. Sleep fell on her like a shadow in the forest, and along with it came nightmares.
Strider was standing over Fell, he was staring up at her with a look of fear and confusion. She smiled grimly, a malicious glint in her eyes. Strider could feel the heavy hilt of a sword in her hand. The blade glinted silver in the moon light. Fell backed away from his Deputy, horror taking over his features.
Behind them someone spoke in a dark voice, it seemed to hold the howling of wolves and singing of angels in one torturing, yet melodic tone. "Kill him!"
Strider raised her sword, she heard Fell's scream and the laugh that dripped with malicious venom rising in volume behind her.
Strider jolted awake, Fell's scream still echoing in her mind, beads of sweat had formed on her neck, she wiped them away. She groped around in the dark, looking for her clothes. She stumbled blindly from her bed, pulling on clothes and boots in a muted rush. She tightened the arm guards around her wrists and elbows, she clipped the clasp of her cloak together securely. She slipped out of her tent, peering into the night with keen hazel eyes that held her fear.
The camp was silent, and Strider moved with muted footsteps to a large boulder taking up residence not far from her tent. She climbed on top of the boulder, stretched at full height she could reach the top of the rise. The camp was nestled in a shallow dip in the ground, and Strider locked her hands on the solid flat grey rock that hung out over her. She gave a small grunt as she jumped, it took her a moment to leverage her weight just right and pull herself out of the Shadows camp. She rested on the slab of rock for a moment, catching her breath that had left her in the late night climb.
Above her the moon still hung high in the sky, it was late in the night, the stars twinkled against the ebony darkness of the night sky. She sighed and stood, she turned her back on the encampment, pulling her cowl and mask into place, she stalked off into the shadowy forest, neglecting to look back like so many times before.
He was waiting by the river at the widest part of the banks. The current was smoothest here, and the water bubbled and swished over the rocks with murmurs of hushed sound. His blue grey eyes scanned the forest edge as he looked for her. He could hear no footsteps on the ground, but he could sense her, lurking in the forest watching him, stalking him.
"You can come out now." His voice was soft and taciturn with an air of serious about it. It carried to the trees, reluctantly a cloaked figure slipped from the under brush. She came to stand in front of the man as he sat on a smooth boulder rearing up among a small pile of other much smaller rocks. The shadowy figure pushed their cowl back, the mask following soon after.
The man smiled as he met the burning gaze of the girl, his grey eyes held something colder than ice.
"I didn't think you'd show up."
Strider shrugged, "That makes two of us." There was a moment of neutral silence, and Strider's hazel eyes burned into that of the man before her. "What do you want Derek?"
Derek smiled up at her, his eyes remaining harsh. "I want you to surrender Jane."
Strider shook her head, ignoring Derek's retort. "You hired assassins, to kill me. Of all the things you've done, this has got to be the worst."
Derek rose to his feet took a step closer to Strider, he looked down into her eyes, his solemn smile never wavering. "Sister dearest, how misled even you can be. It tickles me, your devious and defiance are tools for me to use. I assure you, they weren't supposed to kill you, I plan to do that myself. They were supposed to test the Rangers, to see if they truly were all they are said to be. Their partners how ever and probably making their way to the Faladore village to kill the Ranger's as we speak."
Strider's eyes widened with understanding, "You set it up," The girl took several steps back from her brother, the malicious glint in his eyes growing as the horror of it all came together in her mind. He'd sent the assassins there for a reason, and their was no doubt in her mind that he had watched them fight and lose bitterly to the Ranger's. She turned to run, but Derek's fierce grip locked around her arm, she turned, and saw the dagger in his hand. Moonlight glinted off the sleek blade.
"We'll have none of that," he hissed, but he didn't anticipate Strider's attack. She slammed the heel on her foot down on her brother's. She grabbed his shoulders, dragging her knee up it into his gut. His grip faltered, and then she was gone, the weak feeling in her legs and the sickness in her stomach falling away behind her as she ran into the forest. She tried to swallow the dryness in her throat, but she couldn't, there was no swallowing her fear.
Blaze's hooves clattered against hard the flagstones of the courtyard as he stormed into the clearing, Gilan tugged the reins slightly and the horses skidded to a stop at the base of the Baron's tower. He whispered his thanks to his horse, patting the bay's neck with gratitude, the sentries on guard moved to stand aside as the Ranger raced up the stone steps. It was clear something was urgent.
Gilan stepped into the Barons office quietly, behind him the secretary closed the door. The Baron looked up, his eye brows came together in a gesture of confusion.
"Gilan, what are you doing here? I thought you would still be in the Faladore woods,"
Gilan was shaking his head, "I apologize my lord, but something has happened and you were to be notified immediately."
"Where's Halt? And Cedric?"
Gilan brushed the questions aside, "They're fine, but they won't be if we don't act quickly, my lord." Everything about the village tumbled out of Gilan like water from a waterfall, when he was finished Baron Arald's face was white and drawn, concern clouded his auburn eyes. He sent Gilan to sleep, and once the Ranger had tended to Blaze he did as he was told, reviewing the events of the day in his mind as he lay on a soft bed and clean sheets.
Once Strider and Marek had left Halt sent Gilan back to Redmont, who reluctantly left. He knew if he failed that Halt, Cedric and the Shadows would fall prey to the force of Cult that would arrive in less than two days. He'd sent Blaze into a rapid gallop, keeping the pace threw out the night and arriving at Redmont with both rider and horse exhausted. Now that the message was delivered, the fate of the Faladore village and the Shadows rested purely on the shoulders of Baron Arald. Gilan sighed, he closed his eyes and felt sleep drag him down.
Strider had made it to the garrison in record time, her lungs were stinging with pain and she stopped at the heavy wooden gate of the small garrison, hearing the shouts of the men on the ramparts, she looked up. She had her hands on her knees, trying desperately to catch her breath as she gazed up. One man in particular was looking down at her, waving a torch in one hand and a naked sword in the other. The change of watch had switched earlier that morning, and Roland me the eyes of Strider with a criticizing glare.
"Where are the Ranger's?!" She yelled, her voice coming out weaker than she wanted it to.
"That's none of your business!"
"Tell me, dammit! They're going to be killed!" She was gasping for air and it seemed to be impossible to drag air enough into her lungs.
Roland didn't look very convinced, but his orders from Cedric had been very clear, the Shadows were their temporary allies, and he supposed that too included even the most disrespectful of them. Finally Roland looked back at someone that Strider could not see, "Open the doors."
The wind rippled threw Strider's cloak, despite her recent misfortune with mounting horses, the black and white gelding hadn't thrown her from it's back before she kicked him into a flying gallop. She left Roland with more questions than answers, along with a solemn promise to bring the horse back. She clung to the horse now, she hadn't had the time to saddle the gelding, and her hands clutched at the horses neck and mane, her boots and knees were braced and against the animals sides and haunches. Holding on was all Strider could focus on. They burst free of the trees, the village was a dark mass of wooden structures, the roofs washed in silver moonlight.
No sentry rose to stop her as the bronco was jerked to stop in front of the Inn, Strider slipped from the tall animals back, not having time to tie the agitated steed up, she let him wander and ran to the Inn. The door was ajar, and the raging pace Strider had taken on threw out her journey to the Inn was slowed drastically. Moonlight pooled on the wooden floor from a window. The rest of the Inn was shrouded in darkness. She carefully picked her way through the chairs and tables of the Inn, she didn't know what to expect, the door being wide open left her some clue. The assassins were in the Inn, but where? Or maybe they'd already done their deed and she would find the Ranger's dead upstairs, maybe they'd already made their escape. She cursed not knowing where the assassins were, she would have to check the Inn's dining room for them before she moved on, she could be stumbling threw the dark while Halt and Gilan were killed in their sleep. An aura of baleful silence hung over the Inn as Strider slunk through the darkness.
Strider took another step forward, gliding threw the Inn with practiced skill, she moved adjacent to the wall. Something had moved, she was sure of it. Strider's dagger slid from it's scabbard at her right thigh with a soft whisper. She held the blade in the moonlight, the fierce white light glimmered off the blade and was reflected across the room. She saw nothing, but heard everything, a boot touched the rough wood of the Inn's worn floor, she would recognize the sound anywhere. Caution was thrown to the wind as Strider bolted for the stairs, she stumbled over a chair, the railing of the stairs caught in below the rib cage once as she struggled to find her footing.
She never made it up the stairs, a hand clutched her collar from above after the first five or six steps, and then somebody was throwing her over the stairs wooden balustrade. Her hands groped at nothingness as she tried desperately to stop the feeling of falling. She slammed into something rough and hard with a sickening thud, a table top she guessed as the falling stopped for a moment then began again as she rolled another foot or so. She landed on a chair and let out a grunt of pain. She remained still for a moment on the floor of the Inn and then carefully began to move her limbs, everything felt sore, her shoulder stung and there was a distinct ache in her left side. She looked up in the direction of where she thought she'd been thrown from, she saw the paralyzing gaze of someone as they stepped down from the stairs and glided towards her.
Halt bolted upright in bed, the covers fell off him as he stood, his eagle like gaze adjusted to the darkness with little difficulty, in the small room he slept in, nothing was out of place. His gear was stacked neatly beside him, along with his clothes, his saddle bags were by the door. Everything was right where he had left it. He'd heard something he was sure of it, heavy footsteps and a massive thud had woken him. Moving quietly he pulled on his trousers, gathered his saxe knife and dagger and slipped silently from the room.
The hall of the Inn was clear and Halt's bare feet felt along the floorboards easily. Then he froze as he heard something ahead of him. He caught the indistinct outline of a cloak and lunged forward, he dropped his shoulder and rammed into the figure. He heard a deflating gasp, and realized he'd hit his attacker in the chest. He felt the sharp edge of a blade cut across his right arm in an attempt at a counter attack. He say the green eyes of his attacker and slammed his right fist below the menacing gaze. The figure dropped in Halt's arms. He stepped back and let the man fall to the floor, blood spilling from his nose.
Down stairs he heard the sound of chairs and tables being disturbed. Halt moved forward swiftly, in his stealthy approach to the stair case he heard move sounds of disaster downstairs. His pace quickened until he was half sprinting down the stairs. What he saw both shocked and confused the Ranger.
Another cloaked figure stood, his hand was held out in front of him, holding someone up against the wall farthest from Halt. He saw the hazel eyes swivel to meet his for a moment and instantly knew who it was the assassin held captive. A thin line of blood ran from Strider's mouth. The assassins' hand tightened around the girls neck and she gasped. He raised his knife.
Halt hurled his dagger at the man, a scream erupted from his throat as the knife bit into his shoulder. He slung Strider aside, the girl slammed into the top of the bar and she fell to the floor on the far side, out of Halt's vision. The assassin's attention was now focused on Halt, the man he'd been sent to kill.
The Ranger's eyes made out the rough outlines of chairs and tables, he moved down the stairs, his attacker rushing forward to meet him. Their blades met with a ringing clash, Halt registered the sound of footsteps behind him and the stinging pain in his shoulder and arm. He felt blood running down his side. Moving suddenly, the Ranger threw a sudden left hook at his opponent, the assassins knife drew closer to him, then jerked back as a fist drilled into him.
Before Halt had made another move he saw a shape swinging onto the top of the bar, he could hear Cedric's booming voice as the Battlemaster raged down the stairs.
"Halt!"
The assassin had retaliated, and he advanced the Ranger once more, but something stopped him. Strider hurled herself from the top of the bar, dagger in hand, crashing into the assassin with a murderous vengeance. Halt immediately took a step back to avoid being toppled by the two as they writhed on the floor. Finally they stopped and they were still, Strider was laying a few feet away from the assassin, Halt almost thought she might be dead until she staggered to her feet. Cedric almost took her for an enemy, the naked sword in his hand stayed raised cautiously. The assassin did not get up.
Strider kicked at him ruefully, "That's what you get dammit." She spoke gruffly and her eyes burned with her obvious displeasure. Then she raised her gaze to meet Halt's grim gaze and Cedric's puzzled one. Blood ran down the length of Strider's right shoulder and arm, all the way down to her hand. Her cloak hung around her loosely and she stood awkwardly, careful not to jostle her left side. The girl raised her hands to stop Halt and Cedric from speaking, her demeanor changed from ill tempered to cautious as she spoke.
"I can explain."