Author's Notes: Thanks very much for the reviews! Hopefully I'll be updating again within the next few days. In the meantime, please bear with me and remember that this is the first writing I've done in ages, so it's probably going to be a little unpolished. )

We broke camp before dawn. Once again we traveled hard, pushing ourselves and our horses for speed. The land around us varied little through the long miles – rolling hills, thick clusters of trees, and the road little more than a narrow track through the wilderness. Ruarc and Douglass led the party again; until we reached the spot where Moira's party had been attacked, there was little need for my skills at tracking. I reflected that after a week and a half there would probably be few signs to follow.

After a few hours of taut silence among the group I nudged my horse forward to join the two noblemen. "I'm sorry for what Siobhan said." I directed my words mostly to Douglass. "She can be plainspoken at times. It's just her nature."

"Do you think that I'm so foolish not to have considered every possibility?" Douglass snarled. "It haunts my dreams, the thought of what might have happened to Moira. I need no one to remind me." He broke off suddenly, as though he'd said too much.

I pressed on; that was just my nature. "You love her."

"All my life."

"And will you still love her, even if you find she has been. . . harmed?"

He didn't hesitate. "Forever."

I nodded. "Well enough, then."

Suddenly Baret's voice shattered the stillness. "Kobolds!"

I snatched my buckler from where it hung behind my saddle and drew my blade. I heard the rasp of metal as Ruarc and Douglass did the same. More than a dozen kobolds swarmed down the hill toward us; their shrill cries pierced the air and chilled the blood. A few archers peppered us with missiles. I saw one fall and turned to grin at Siobhan, who was using her own bow to coolly pick off the attackers one at a time.

Then they were upon us.

I slashed and hacked away at the nearest kobold, severing its arm at the shoulder before running it through. Two more took its place as it fell, and the next few moments were lost in a red haze of battle. I felt a stab of pain in my left calf as a kobold sword got past my defenses; vaguely I heard someone else cry out in rage or pain somewhere to my right. Blood misted the air and fell like rain. Kobolds were small but wily, and their numbers were superior to ours. No matter; as long as Siobhan kept the archers at bay, I could handle a few kobold blade wielders.

It was over almost as quickly as it began; there certainly were some advantages to traveling in the company of trained fighters. I looked around and realized that we were all still standing and smiled grimly.

Baret wiped the blades of his twin axes on the grass. "You're injured, lass," he said, nodding toward my leg.

"It's a scratch," I muttered, but dismounted and rolled up my pant leg. A puncture wound, painful but not deep. I fished in my saddlebag for a pot of healing ointment; it had been blessed by a priest of Lathander and would heal the cut in a matter of hours. Very handy for minor injuries, although not for any serious wounds.

Both Douglass and Ruarc had escaped unscathed, protected by their heavy plate armor. Siobhan was also unhurt, and Baret had a few small scratches that were easily cared for with some of the salve.

We remounted and moved on, and this time Ruarc dropped back to ride with me. I shifted nervously in my saddle and silently cursed Siobhan for falling behind and leaving me alone with him. And then I chided myself for being so flustered by the man.

"That was good sword work," Ruarc said. "Where. . . how did you end up in this life? You've had some education; it shows in the way that you talk."

"I grew up a merchant's daughter in Baldur's Gate. My parents died of plague. I did what I had to in order to survive." I shrugged.

"There was no one to take you in?"

"No relatives, no close friends. My father's business partner took over the shop and left me with nothing but what I could carry." I laughed bitterly. "Women have precious few options in this world, Ruarc. I had no one I could marry, no money, no magical ability, nothing. I could turn mercenary or turn whore. I chose the first. A Ranger named Wallace taught me to hunt and track. I traveled. I learned what I could when I could." I smiled a little. "In the City of Coin, at least among the working class, people care less about what you are than what you can do. I often find work as a guard with merchant caravans, and I've made a name for myself as someone who can get a job done without a lot of fuss. I get by."

"You're quite a woman."

I looked carefully at him, searching his face for a hint of mockery or derision, but found none. "I did what I had to in order to survive."

"Most of the women I know would have died."

"You might be surprised."

"Moira would never have done what you did. She's. . . fragile. Sheltered. It makes me fear for her. If you were taken by bandits you'd probably spit in their eye and dare them to do their worst. She won't." I was alarmed to her a tremor in his voice.

Impulsively I leaned over in the saddle and laid a hand on his arm. "We'll find her."

Douglass shouted suddenly, "Look!"

I jerked my hand back, remembering suddenly that this was a Bad Idea. The four of us joined Douglass at the top of the next hill and gazed down at what he'd found.