The Ranger left Fell and Strider in the clearing and chased after the archer, an arrow knocked to the string of his bow. He still had yet to catch more than a glimpse of the other man through the trees and hadn't been able to loose a clear shot at him. Instead he focused on the signs of movement, the shiver of branches as someone brushed by, the crunch of leaves underfoot. Halt zeroed in on the sight and sound of movement, drawing and loosing arrows in their direction the moment he noticed them. They were rushed shots, but they didn't need to kill or even wound. Halt just needed to keep his arrows whipping around the ears of the archer to drive him back and way from Fell and Strider. He pressed on, moving slow and careful through the trees.

"I don't suppose you'd consider striking a deal, would you, Ranger?" The archer called from somewhere up ahead. Halt crept forward and spotted the curved ends of the archer's bow sticking out on either side of a large tree trunk several yards away.

Halt took up his own position in shelter of the brush nearby and kept an arrow ready on the string. If the archer stepped out from cover for even a moment the Ranger would have a clear shot at him. "You're not in a position to be making deals," Halt called back.

"Last time I checked, Gwensley village was still under our control," the archer said. "We'll give it back to you if you're willing to trade.

Halt's interest was piqued despite himself. The Ranger thought it likely the archer was simply trying to bluff his way out of a bad spot. He had to know he couldn't get away from Halt now that the Ranger knew exactly where he was. Still, Halt was curious about the offer. Gwensley was an important foothold for the Cult, and he was surprised the archer was considering giving it up at all.

"What do you want in return?" Halt said after a moment's pause.

"The Shadows. Turn both of them over to us, and we'll withdraw from the village tonight."

"Two people for an entire village?" Halt's brows rose in surprise. The Ranger wondered if the archer knew the two Shadows he'd been targeting were the Leader and Deputy of the Shadows. If he did, his offer to trade for them seemed far less outrageous than Halt had originally thought. "What makes them worth so much to you?"

"They're Shadows," the archer said. "Each one has drawn more blood caused more grief for us than ten of your Araluen soldiers combined. A village is a small price to pay for the chance to repay such favors in kind."

Halt couldn't decide whether or not he believed the archer. His voice, thick with disgust when he talked about the Shadows, was convincing enough, and yet Halt's instincts told him there was something he was missing. "It sounds like the Shadows are worth more to me alive than dead," Halt said. "I think we'll hang on to them in case a better offer comes along."

"How about one, then? Forget the man, I'll settle for the woman."

He must know, Halt decided. If the archer had seen Strider and realized she was a woman he had to know she couldn't be anyone other than the Deputy of the Shadows. It wasn't a giant leap to make, considering there was only one woman among the ranks of the Shadows. Fell's identity would be harder to guess. There were many men among the Shadows, and most people were surprised to find out someone Fell's age was leading a group of successful mercenaries. The archer likely thought Fell was just another Shadow.

"Tempting," Halt said, "but I think we'll keep her too." He'd begun to relax ever so slightly as they talked, and the archer made no move to flee or turn on the Ranger. Now Halt felt their conversation winding down and nearing its finish. He instinctively adjusted his bow and arrow and lightly tested the tension on the string.

"Suit yourself," the archer said. "Give her my regards then, will you?" The archer sprang away from the tree before he had finished speaking and leveled his bow at Halt. The Ranger was ready for him and sent an arrow hissing for the archer's chest the moment he left cover. Halt realized a moment too late how gravely he'd underestimated his opponent. The archer loosed two arrows with a blinding speed nearly on par with a Ranger's ability, and before Halt could get off his own second shot the archer's first arrow whipped past his ear and ripped his cloak from his head. Halt ducked and rolled to the side, abandoning the arrow he'd been about to release. Another arrow whistled by overhead, and Halt quickly nocked an arrow and rolled back to his feet. He fired from memory, aiming for the spot where he'd last seen the archer. He was still there, standing rock steady as he had before, only now he was flanked by two Cult soldiers with swords in their hands. Halt let the arrow go and hurled himself back down to safety before the archer could fire again. He was rewarded with a startled choking sound as the arrow struck home.

Halt didn't bother sticking around to try his luck against the rest of the Cult members. The moment he heard his arrow connect he rose to a crouch and hurried back the way he'd come, staying as close to the trees as he could. He pulled his hood back over his head, and when he heard shouts from behind him the Ranger gave up all effort at stealth and broke into a run. He'd only made it a half dozen paces when a familiar whinny split the air from somewhere far off to his left. Halt slowed and dove for cover once more, then blew a sharp whistle before nocking an arrow to his bow. He had his back to a small boulder and listened carefully for the sound of bootsteps approaching.

"That's close enough," the Ranger muttered to himself as he rose from cover and sent two arrows hurtling towards the soldiers who had followed him. Without bows they had little chance against Halt, and he dropped them quickly before ducking back behind the boulder. He was ready to whistle again when he heard the thunder of hooves, and Abelard burst from the trees at a gallop. Halt thought he'd never seen a more welcome sight as the little horse charged towards him. He gave a shout and waved a hand signal at his mount, then popped out of cover to fire another round of shots and drop two more soldiers. Then Abelard was skidding to a stop beside him, showering him with dirt. Halt grabbed the pommel and immediately urged Abelard to turn and resume his gallop even as he hauled himself up into the saddle. His horse shot forward, and they hurtled through the trees like an arrow launched from Halt's own bow.

They didn't get far before Halt ran into Strider on the path leading back to Rodney's camp. She'd ridden out with Abelard but had dropped the reins and let the shaggy horse ride on ahead when she heard Halt whistle for him. She turned her horse to ride alongside Halt, spurring up to a gallop to keep pace. Halt checked Abelard's speed to keep pace with the horse, and only when he was sure they were well beyond the Cult's reach did Halt slow Abelard to a trot.

"Where's Fell?" Halt asked.

"I patched him up and sent him back to Rodney's camp," Strider said. "Are you alright? You're bleeding."

Halt pushed his hood back onto his shoulders and felt along his ear where the archer's arrow had struck. It had grazed the skin just above his ear, and a warm trickle of blood had run down Halt's face and neck. The arrow had gone clean through Halt's cloak as well, leaving a large hole through the fabric. He frowned at it, more upset with the cloak than he was with the cut.

"Both can be mended," Strider said at Halt's grim expression.

"With any luck, the same can't be said about the archer," Halt muttered as he urged Abelard into a canter.

Been a while since I updated. Please read and review and let me know how you like it so far.