The path had been long since cleared of anything that might make for an arduous journey, and yet the wheelhouse failed to arrive. Jon Connington was a patient man. It was a talent he had to cultivate in his existence, especially in court. However, he was not willing to wait so long that he might end up being the foolish man.

"Edwyle, no word yet?" he asked on his man once more.

"Nay, my lord," came the short reply. Edwyle was likely cursing their very mission. Jon could not say he did not understand.

They'd been relegated to playing guard for the Prince's mistress. What had he possibly seen in the young woman? Jon had to wonder at that. He'd seen the girl. A slip of a woman, really, dainty and petite, looking for all the world much like she would topple over if the wind blew too harshly. There was something wild about her. Perhaps it was the eyes, cold and warm by turns, depending on whom she gazed at.

But Jon failed to see her appeal. He could not fathom the reason for which his friend had gone and fallen in love with her. There was no denying that. The Prince did not simply mean to use her as a tool to further his own ambitions. And that was dangerous. Once he allowed the she-wolf in his heart, the woman would gain power and if she so desired, she could create trouble for them all.

Jon sighed. He spurred his horse forward. Craning his neck, he tried to spot at least some banner streaming in the wind. To his great luck, he did see a wheelhouse somewhere on the road. It seemed that some problems had been encountered.

"Come on," he called to his men, kicking the horse in the flanks. The animal sped forward, galloping across the dirt. His men followed close behind. It was a matter of minutes before they reached the wheelhouse and the people gathered around it. The first thing he noticed was that one of the wheels was in shambles. The second matter which held his attention was the fact that they had put up a Baratheon banner and an Arryn banner. It had to be Lady Lyanna. "What happened here?"

"Wheel broke an axle," a man dressed in chainmail helpfully explained. Jon threw him a murderous look. Edwyle pulled out his knife actually. That seemed to help matters. "We ran into some trouble, a band of thieves happened upon us. Lost three good men."

"What do I care about your men?" Jon growled at him. "Where is the lady?" Good gods. If that woman was injured, or worse, dead, their days were numbered. "Speak, man!"

"She got sick. Willem and her maid took her through the trees, there." The man pointed in the general direction. "Didn't look too well that one. Might not have a stomach for such sights." He then proceeded to murmur under his breath about ladies and weak stomachs.

Without another glance towards the man, Jon turned to his own group. "Watch them. I'm going after Lady Baratheon. Edwyle, with me."

The she-wolf was, as the man had said, in the company of her maid and a burly man who kept watch. At least they were not complete fools. The maid looked up at their approach, but Lady Lyanna remained hunched over, still very much busy emptying her stomach.

The lady was handed a skin of water. She went through the process of cleansing herself, then turned towards the newcomers. "Lord Connington, I presume."She shipped a few mint leaves from a small pouch hanging from her girdle.

"Lady Baratheon," he offered, "are you well?" To his great surprise, her eyes narrowed in something like annoyance, at the name he addressed her with, he thought, rather than at the question. As soon as the look had come, it was gone.

"I am well, my lord. Give me but a moment longer and we shall be ready to go on." She gathered her skirts in a firm hand and shook them lightly. Jon waited, not without a hint of impatience for the ritual to be over. "I fear that the wheelhouse is useless, my lord."

"So long as you do not mind riding with me, Lady Baratheon, that should not present a problem." He cleared his throat. "Tell me about the attack."

"I heard yells," she said. "It was what woke me from my slumber. One of the thieves had managed to shoot down three of the men, and was about to fell another. His partners broke the wheel. One of them even entered." Lyanna took out a knife from beneath her cloak. "I killed him."

"Cut his throat, she did," the other woman spoke in a breathless voice. "A right courageous thing to do."

There was little he could comment upon. Her actions had been reckless. And by the looks of her she had understood as much. "Did they take anything?"

"Just some horses," the sole male in the trio replied.

"Are you still sick, my lady?" Jon directed his question towards Lyanna. "Or is it a chill?"

"The amount of blood spilled unsettled my stomach, my lord. 'Tis nothing to worry over." And perhaps her own conscience. Jon gave her a curt nod. It was rather foolish of her to feel sorry for the life she had taken, considering the circumstances. But then again, she was a woman, and they were strange creatures.

"We should depart." They made their way back to the main road. The wheelhouse had been moved a little bit with the help of horses to the side. Nothing could save it. Thankfully, Lady Baratheon hadn't much with her that could not be tied to a horse. The main problem was the lack of horses. Lyanna was to ride with him. Edwyle would take the other woman. And those that remained would have to fend for themselves. "Once in King's Landing you shall have fresh horses and coin for your service. Now let us move along."

They rode in relative silence, for Jon wished to share no words.

She had killed a man. Jon almost snorted. Perhaps she had something more of the North in her than simply looks. It would certainly serve her well at Court if she did. For intrigues were just as life-endangering as thieves on the highroad.