I'm baaaack, and here's the newest chapter! There's a little more bloody stuff in this chappie, along with a fight scene! Woot! XD I hope you like it, thanks keacdragon for the deadline! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Jane and the Dragon, I do not own Jane and the Dragon, I do not own Jane and the Dragon… that enough times? XD

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Jane does not move, freezing at the sensation of cold metal against her skin; her eyes flick instead to Beppe, who looks too shocked and frightened to do anything except remain as still as a trapped hare. His grayish eyes, dulled against the setting sun, seem unable to blink –he stares at Jane, then at the knife, then back at Jane. The squire swallows gently, incapable of a reassuring smile, and opens her mouth to speak.

"Don't yeh be sayin' nuthin'!" Comes the voice again, the smoky scent drifting out from between dry lips to smother her words. "Or yeh get the slip."

Jane scowls angrily instead and turns her gaze back to Beppe; she raises her eyebrows urgently at him, glancing first from him to the stables behind the tavern, then back to him, then back to the stables. I hope he is as smart as Jester, she thinks, amazed at her own calmness and lack of hysteria.

Beppe gets the message –she can see it in his widening eyes. With another terrified glance at Jane he turns his back on her and her captor and takes off around the corner into the shadows.

A curse issues from the man's mouth, and he beckons with his head to an unseen individual. Jane's heart speeds up. Not another one! Sir Theodore would be ashamed of me…

"Get 'im!"

At these words another previously unseen figure melts out of the shadows on Jane's right and whisks past the two in a flurry of dark, ragged coat ends and the heavy smell of alcohol. The only thing the squire can see as he rushes by is a shock of red hair fluttering in the created breeze and thick, dark gloves hiding pickpocket fingers.

And just as suddenly as he has come, the second stranger is gone, and only Jane and her captor are left standing conspicuously in front of the tavern; the man seems to realize this, and with another curse tightens his grip on Jane and hauls her back into the shadows he appeared from. The squire staggers back along with him, waiting on tenterhooks for him to loosen his hold as he turns to see where he is. Then, she thinks excitedly, then I'll get him.

But something else happens that makes her forget all about escaping for a moment.

As he stumbles sloppily backward the knife slips slightly from his sweaty palms and slices neatly across Jane's neck. She yelps quietly as the pain from the wound consumes her in one heavy blow, and blood drips quickly out of the thin cut and soaks through her high collar; Jane shivers as it trickles down the underside of her chin in small scarlet rivulets, considering with a sudden spike of fear exactly how much of the liquid will in the end spurt from her neck and cloud her clothing.

Yet another colorful term is spit from between clenched teeth, but the man is still moving backward and his grip is far looser than before. And then he slams into the wall, and everything is perfect for what she needs to do. Jane grabs her chance.

With another yell she ducks out from under his grasp, staggering forward a few paces in surprise and dizziness as she regains her lost balance. The sensation flashes through her body like lightning, luckily, and in less than a second Jane is up and whipping her dagger from her side.

Her captor raises his own dagger, and Jane barely restrains a flinch at the sight of wet blood –her blood– dripping down the blade and pooling about the hilt. The man smiles cruelly at her, raising the weapon up and rushing towards her with a terrifying glint in his eye.

Jane braces herself for the impact, and as her attacker charges towards her she raises her own dagger to meet it; there is a loud clashing noise as they connect and Jane pushes forward until they are so close she wrinkles her nose in disgust at the man's bloated, unkempt appearance. He staggers backward as she shoves him off, obviously underestimating her strength, and as he does so the squire draws her sword with a shing as it slips from the sheath.

"Do not ever do that again," she hisses furiously, and this time it is she who charges, her heart racing beneath her wet cloak and her head spinning from the occurrences. The man, snarling, jumps forward with his bloodied knife to meet her, but with a single swipe of her dagger Jane knocks the tool from his hand.

She has won.

The man backs away from her, balling his hands into fists and rolling his shoulders in preparation for a fist fight. Jane can see the hint of discomfort and embarrassment rolling in his reddened eyes like a wavering storm, and oddly enough the sight only fills her with understanding that she is dominant this time. She smiles tightly and steps forward with both blades raised.

"No," is all that slips from her mouth, before the man rushes once more at her and she sidesteps his attack with a grace she didn't know she had. And as he returns for a fourth time, using all his speed to turn and barrel towards her, Jane sticks out her foot and he is sent flying. Curses spill from his mouth like sour milk.

"Now what did I say?" Jane says mockingly as she approaches the downed man cautiously, surprised at her daring. "You are not to take me captive like that again. Ever."

The man turns over and scowls at her, but as he reaches for her legs to unbalance her Jane leaps lightly up and avoids his grasp. Her heart is thumping so loudly and fearfully in her chest that any more gloating is automatically smothered, and she instead points her sword at his exposed neck.

"Who do you work for? Why did you do this?" She demands, jabbing the point at his flabby neck. The man edges away, and Jane follows with her sword tip to his throat. "Well? Answer me!"

He groans, and his curses on her and her family echo in the shadowy space. "I am not goin' ter tell yeh anyfink!" He snarls. "Yeh wouldn't have the guts ter kill me anyway."

Jane lets the blade inch closer to the man's neck until it is lightly brushing his skin. "Are you sure?" She breathes. All knight's training has gone out the window in this moment, and all she can do is hang on and bluff it out –killing may not be in the Code, but here there are no rules.

He swallows hard, as she did just moments before, and glares up at her. "I still ain't gonna tell yeh. Just that we Slayers don't appreciate the comeback yer makin'. You don't think you can make it twice, do yeh? Yeh barely made it once."

He is a DragonSlayer? Jane thinks confusedly, her mind spinning at this development. But Sir Theodore said his family… and they oppose the Guardians? Well, that makes sense I suppose, but… they still exist? How can no one know about this until now?

"Oh do shut up," Jane says instead, realizing with a sinking feeling of disappointment that this man is done speaking, and with a deep breath raises her sword high. His eyes widen in surprise and fear, and then sag closed as the hilt of her weapon comes crashing down onto his skull.

He will probably be out for a while, she thinks nervously, leaning out into the light of the sinking sun to glance around. And what am I going to do with him now? Beppe- She stops suddenly, and once again that lightning bolt of fear lances through her skinny frame.

"Beppe!" She cries, and with a last, nervous glance at the unconscious man takes off around the corner in search of Jester's cousin.

Please be all right, please, please… she mentally pleads, as she rounds the next corner around which Beppe disappeared and slows almost immediately to a wary pace; once again that fickle heart of hers is beating frightfully quickly beneath her cloak, and with another swallow (feeling the clotted blood on her neck crack slightly at the gesture) she ventures slowly forward.

Please be all right…

A muffled scream echoes suddenly, followed by a deathly silence, and Jane practically leaps out of her skin in fright.

"Beppe!" She shouts, and rushes forward into the shadowy stables with her sword raised and at the ready.

The sight that meets her eyes makes the squire almost want to use the weapons at her disposal.

Beppe is sitting nonchalantly in the hay of an empty stall, holding a slightly more-red-than-it-should-be brick in one small hand. The unnerving associate is at his feet, face down in the soft straw and as still as a fallen statue; blood pools at the base of his skull.

"Beppe… did you just…" she says quietly, walking tentatively towards the slumped form and the crouched little boy hunched solemnly over his knees. He blinks at the sound of her voice, and as suddenly as Jane has arrived he is up and hugging her as tightly as he can, straw scattering as he does so.

"Jane!" he shrieks happily, burying his face in her now-disgusting cloak and squeezing his thin arms tight around her waist. "I am so glad you're all right! What would I have done if you were hurt? Who were those people? Why did they attack us? Is that cut infected? My mother can help clean it up, you know. And how are we going to get there? How did you get so good at fighting?" his questions stretch on and on even as he backs away from Jane and helps her tie the man up with old tack, babbling like a madman to ease his former terror and calm down. She nods easily, and simply shoves the man up into the corner of the stall (what else can she do with him? Turning the two attackers over could only lead to more uncomfortable questions) and sloppily piles hay over his face; as Beppe slowly begins to ease up on the words and at long last drops the brick into the mess she takes his small hand in her own and smiles gently. I feel like a mother…

"Beppe," Jane says kindly, backing up and out of the stall in order to cross the way and enter Tess's. "It is all right. But we really need to get going now, do you understand me? They could wake up at any moment." She unlocks her horse's stall door hurriedly, fumbling with the lock, and rushes inside to dump the worn saddle once more onto Tess's back; the horse nickers quietly and does not move as Jane tightens the straps with shaking hands and fits the bridle into her mouth. Beppe, snapping out of his fearful trance, hurries in after her and immediately leans down to adjust the stirrups as Jane pushes the saddlebag roughly up over Tess's rump with a little grunt of effort. She smiles tightly at him over her ride's back, and with one last pull on a leather strap deems her ready to go. Beppe looks frightened again.

"Come on," she says urgently, sticking her foot into the stirrup and swinging herself easily into Tess's saddle, "I need to get you back to your camp. Can you lead the way in the dark?"

The little gypsy smiles weakly at her words and takes the hand Jane offers him. "I could find my way on my hands and knees blindfolded," he states bravely as he too settles himself on the horse; Jane struggles for a moment to find the reigns, reaching clumsily out beyond his skinny frame seated in front of her and scrabbling for the leads. He hands them back trustingly, with a look that so reminds her of Jester the squire has to pause a moment.

And then the look passes across his face like a forgotten shadow, and with a loud, "Hyah!" and a slap of the reigns Jane urges Tess onward and out the stable door. They thunder out along the enclosed walkway and burst into the dying embers of sunlight as the ball of gold at long last slips beneath the horizon.

"That way," Beppe says confidently, pointing ahead and slightly to the right.

With a nod of consent Jane swallows again, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of dry blood, and with a quick glance around kicks at her horse's sides.

They ride quickly into the darkness, melting into the shadows as though they had never come.

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And that's it! :) I hope you liked it, and would you please let me know if I should up the rating? I need to know! :)

Please please please review! I'd be so very grateful!

Thanks again! :D