A/N—So sorry for the long wait. My family and I were on vacation at Niagara Falls!!!!!!!!!! So anyway…here it is. R&R!!!!!!!

BOOM! CRASH! SMASH!

I awoke with a start for the second time that night to the sound of metal on metal and the piercing screams of dying victims. I groped blindly for the cell door and my hand instinctively twitched in the direction of my worn, sword hilt. Of course it wasn't there. I had been searched and stripped of all my weapons that first eve. But my imagination was running unchecked—what was this commotion all about?

Blinking rapidly to grow accustomed to the dim lighting, I barely made out the slim figures creeping through the darkness in between the trees. Though they remained shadowed by the black of night, I was able to distinguish scabbards on their hips and swords in their muscled hands. My stomach clenched, though my mind was already awhirl with battle plans and tactics.

Mithros help us. Pirates! Here? I took one, big, steadying breath and then slammed my shoulder against the sturdy door. It barely shook, though I determinedly tried again. I had to warn the captain. The fighting was just a diversion; a sure way to engage all the men in a fight that the men in this sleepy town would obviously relish. However, the real danger—the roughish pirates—were headed towards the unprotected women and children. And with all able-bodied fighters by the riverbank, the people's wives, children, and homes would be easy pickings.

My resolve intensified and I redoubled my attack on the door. With a shout—though of surprise or triumph, I know not—I stumbled through the splintered door and into the cool night.

I stopped long enough to remove a sturdy, strung bow from the guard's rack and a full quiver of arrows before I snuck after the scoundrels. The night was cool and a breeze twirled the hair around my shoulders, but it also served another purpose: it masked my scent.

Still, I was outnumbered ten to one. I couldn't recklessly jump into the thick of things without a plan. A soft nickering broke the silence like a blade cutting through soft bread. Simultaneously, the unpleasant smell of dung wafted through the night air. A plan formed in my mind, almost as if planted there by magic. I adjusted my course and headed toward the saddled horses of the pirates. Silently, so as not to alert the sentry guarding the beasts, I crept foreword on the soles of my feet. Even as I stumbled over the uneven and unfamiliar terrain, I sucked in my curses and exclaims of shock and pain and kept going.

My luck ran out there, and the wind changed its course, blowing my scent downwind, towards the large and sensitive nostrils of the roan horses. They started stamping and neighing at the new scent, and the guard turned suspiciously, scanning the surrounding trees for danger.

I burst out of the trees with a war cry and pounced. The guard had time to gasp in surprise before I was on top of him. I curled my hand into a fist and slammed it into the soft flesh of his belly. Without taking a breath in between, I slammed my fist into his mouth and heard the satisfying sound of bone crack and the blood poured from his mouth.

I didn't wait any longer. I kicked his temple and his eyes rolled back into his head, exposing bloodshot whites, and fell like stone to the spongy ground. I dropped the man and ran to free the horses.

They let me untie them willingly, however wouldn't cooperate past that. They stood in a group, milling about, snorting in confusion but determinedly remaining in one place.

"Move," I shouted at the animals, "get out of here!" I slapped a few of the animal's rumps and they galloped a few paces then slowed and started grazing with an indifference that would have made a stone statue proud.

I knew I couldn't waste any more time with these stubborn beasts, but I really needed to remove the pirates' getaway.

As if in answer to an unspoken prayer, a bolt of lightning illuminated the clear night. The horses were spooked—at least enough to defy their masters' command to remain where they were tethered and canter off into the night. I breathed a sight of relief (only just realizing I had been holding it) and hastened to find the sneaking pirates.

They had reached the first houses and were spreading out—a good plan because it would force followers to split up, but easy for a determined knight to climb the nearby bluff and shoot at them at her leisure safely hidden from retaliation of any sort by the large boulders.

Although I wasn't afraid of heights anymore, I didn't look foreword to the slight climb. I was sweating by the time I had reached the bluff and settled myself in the rocks, but my hands were steady and already had an arrow nocked in place and prepared to shoot.

Carefully, I drew the arrow back and let it swing free with an audible twang! The shot was true: one man crumpled to the floor in pain clutching his thigh and grasping at the arrow protruding from his meaty flesh.

I already had another arrow ready and had nocked down another man before the rest of the group had realized what was happening. As soon as they realized they were being shot at, they ran for the first cover they could find. I shot another two arrows to add to the confusion, but both of them missed their mark.

By now, a few of them had drawn their own bows and were stringing them hastily, searching the brush for their unidentified enemy. I shot another arrow and it lodged itself in a men neck. Blood instantly coated his body and his eyes opened wide in pain while his mouth was a gaping hole of his unspoken scream.

I gulped down my nausea and continued firing the arrows with ferocious continuity. A few times I had to duck down to avoid being hit by their own arrows, but none were too good shots, and I wasn't concerned.

I reached back into my quiver and removed another arrow while doing a quick count of the dead and fallen. Seven men down, but nine men still standing with wary expressions on their emaciated, skeletal faces.

I shot another three men down before I realized I was running low on arrows. My next few shots had to count, or I would have the death or capture of innocent women and children on my conscience.

I shot two more arrows, but only one hit a man. The other six men had grouped together under the cover of the houses. And that's when things really started going downhill.

Two wide-eyed children had emerged from their hovel of a home. Four men pounced at once. The two boys were snatched and drawn into the shadows with the men. Another door opened and a young girl emerged in her nightdress. A burly pirate lunged for her, but I was scared to shoot for fear of hitting the girl.

The men emerged from the shadows of the home holding their three hostages with knives at their throats. And the worst thing was I couldn't do a thing about it without harming the little ones. I cursed silently even knowing it did no good.

One tall pirate stepped foreword with the young girl. He spoke with a pronounced drawl, but his meaning was clear, nonetheless. "Dr'p yur weapon an' back up slow like, o' we kill the lass."

I didn't dare move, but they had no way of knowing that. Slowly, carefully they backed up with their captives in tow heading for their horses. I grinned when they reached the clearing and found nothing but hoof prints and cut rope, but I sobered immediately. There was nothing funny about the situation I was in.

The pirates headed for the river and I watched in dismay as they uncovered hidden rafts—a clear sign that these pirates had thought things through and had this backup plan arranged in case anything went amiss.

Keeping my distance, I crept after them, slinking from shadow to shadow. The pirates hauled themselves and the children onto the rafts and cast off.

I watched, horror-struck, as the pirates bound their captives and leered into the shadows—clearly gloating at their triumph. And then, faster as the rapids picked up, the rafts was swept into the night…with their three young hostages at the brigand's mercy.