Near the Morva river, late morning, October 6, 1347.

Written by Rian

Caelen glanced at her brother. He was definitely more watchful than before. Since they had left the last inn, where they had been warned about the roads, they had travelled much more carefully and quietly - the feeling of adventure that she had just been beginning to enjoy was now replaced with a looming fear of outlaws on the road.

"Stupid, greedy men!" she thought in frustration, angry at the extra precautions they had needed to adopt. Her mind played over the last two weeks, since idle talking was out of the question right now.

A stupid, greedy man was the reason they were even on the road in the first place. The eldest son of the largest thanehold in the area was rich enough to not have to marry for money, and for reasons that Caelen couldn't understand, had apparently fixed on her. And Brun was used to getting what he wanted.

Both Callon and Caelen had their suspicions about who had started the fire - Brun's family had always seemed to be jealous of their family, especially since Caelen's father had turned down Brun's tentative inquiries after his daughter in no uncertain terms. Then came the fire, and the deaths of their parents and older brothers - but Caelen's mind passed over that and went on to when they had ended up at the stablemaster's house. Brun's father had extended an offer to Callon to run his stables, and he also offered to let them put up their surviving horses for free. He offered a very generous salary, and Callon thought it best to take the job for a year or so, even though they both disliked the family, in order to give their land time to recover and to earn some money to rebuild. If he had only himself to consider, he would probably have chosen differently, but he now had his sister to consider, too, and he thought this path would enable them to be back on their own land sooner.

Things had gone smoothly for almost a year. Brun had been with this girl and then that, and had kept his attentions down to an occasional leer in Caelen's direction. But in September, things changed, and Brun became more pointed in his attentions - even almost polite - which was far worse than his rudeness, because the politeness was feigned - obviously only a cover to try to get something he wanted.

Then came that Wednesday - September 21st - and the overheard conversation. Callon had headed into town to pick up some leather for a bridle he was working on. He had been quietly looking among the pieces in the back, when the door opened and Brun strode in, along with some of his friends. Overhearing their conversation, Callon realized with a sick feeling that this man was determined to have his sister one way or another, and that in order to save her from this brute of a man, he had to take his sister and flee - and soon. Callon stayed frozen in the back of the store until Brun and his friends left, and then quickly and quietly left, formulating his plans to get his sister to a safe place as he walked quickly back to the stablemaster's house.

And so they found themselves on the road, trying to avoid still more greedy men. Caelen bit her lower lip in frustration - what had happened to the safe world she had known growing up? She looked around, trying not to see robbers behind every tree.

The horses picked their way in their delicate, sure-footed manner over logs and around the thicker undergrowth in the forest. Giving in to his increasing uneasiness over the reports of robbers on the road, Callon had decided to make the last part of their journey in a more covert manner. Decidedly slower, but he judged it was the lesser of two evils, especially traveling with a woman. By the grace of Eru, he had been able to save his sister from one brute, and at this point, he wasn't about to ignore any precautions that he could possibly take to preserve her from an even more evil fate. Hillmen were not known for their delicacy in their treatment of women.

The mares (he had left their prize stallion in the care of his best friend; stallions can be inconvenient to travel with if accompanied by a mare) were well-suited to the task, despite their seeming delicacy. Callon's father bred for beauty, yes; but strength and durability were even more important, and their horses were known for their surefootedness and good sense. Horses, like people, come with different amounts of sense.

Although they were trying to be quiet, a horse can't help making more noise than a human, and the strength, speed and heart of the horses were about to be tested as Callon, reaching a particularly dense patch of undergrowth, decided to return to the road.

On the road near Morva Torch. October 6, 1347, afternoon

Written by Gordis and Rian

Moving silently through the forest, the company of outlaws soon approached the paved road leading from Nothva Rhaglaw to Morva Torch. Heggr was the first on the road. He sucked in the cold air to say something, but clapped his hand over his mouth instead. At this moment, the others heard it: the distant sound of horses approaching from the West. Both Griss and Algeirr dropped to the ground simultaneously listening to the hoof beats. Rising, Algeirr showed three fingers to the company. Griss nodded. With an imperative gesture, Algeirr directed Griss and Heggr to the other side of the road, while motioning to his own men to hide in the thick bushes on the nearest side.

Algeirr remained alone in the middle of the road, his sword still in his scabbard. When the horses appeared from around a road bend, he was already walking slowly towards Morva Torch, head bowed, and shoulders hunched wearily, as if he were a lonely traveler on a long journey.

Gulping from excitement, Kvigr notched his arrow, watching the road. He never knew whom he supposed to see, perhaps a couple of brigands, or worse, but the aspect of the travelers made him open his mouth and lower his bow.

There was a young man in decent clothes and with a long sword and a Tark girl in her tweens, dark-haired and lovely. Both were mounted on a swift thoroughbred horses, still fresh and prancing. A pack horse followed.

Noticing Algeirr, who stopped and was waiting for them, the riders slowed. Algeirr raised his empty hands in a gesture of friendship and hailed them in a weary rasping voice.

"Greetings, my Lord and Lady. I mean you no harm. My name is Einarr son of Hrani. I am returning home from my many travels. But my village is far away, and I am unfamiliar with these roads. Could you tell me if this road leads to Cameth Brin?"

Callon's heart leapt into his throat. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid, but the dense undergrowth had forced them to return to the road against his will. Turning his head slightly towards his sister, but keeping his eyes on the unknown man, he said quietly but firmly to her, "If I tell you to run, then run for your life, Cae. I mean it - don't look back for me." Algeirr didn't understand the language, but could make a pretty good guess at what was said by the widening of the girl's eyes.

Callon moved his horse so that he was between his sister and the man. "Yes, this is the road, I believe" he answered, making sure his sword was readily available. "But we are far from home ourselves and do not know the area well." His eyes flicked to the forest, where he thought he saw some movement, and he added, "We lost our home in a terrible fire, and are traveling in hopes of finding some family that can take us in," hoping that this would convey, if the man was indeed a thief, that they had nothing worth attempting to steal.

"I am indeed sorry to hear that," Algeirr answered smoothly. "Fate has been unkind to us both." He dropped his hands and took a step towards the pair, feigning sympathy.

"Come no closer!" cried Callon, and half-drew his sword. "I am sorry to distrust you, but in these difficult times, I am forced to be wary against my inclinations." Algeirr raised his hands in an "I understand" type of gesture and took a step back. Caelen's mare tossed her head nervously as some birds flew out of the undergrowth.

"If you are in need of food, we can spare a little out of our slight stores, but we can give you no other aid than that, and we must be going."

"I thank you for your kindness," said Algeirr, his voice suddenly changing, "but I will be wanting much more than food ... as we speak, you and the pretty lady are being covered by my bowmen in the woods. If you don't struggle, then you will probably keep your lives. If you do, well, I would hate to see an arrow through the lady's lovely white throat..."

"Brigand! Coward!" said Callon in contempt. "And I have a hundred men at arms just around the bend of the road, likewise invisible," he said, hoping that the man was bluffing, and if not, hoping to see what strength the man actually had. "I advise that you take our food, generously offered out of compassion for a fellow traveler, and do evil no more, for retribution will come for evildoers, though sometimes it tarries to give a chance at redemption."

"My men may be invisible, but their arrows are not," responded Algeirr icily, and raising his arm, he called out to Kvigr, "Shoot an arrow over the road!"

With a whine and a thud, an arrow flew across the road and sank deep into a tree. He looked at Caelen, and though he saw fear in her eyes, which he had expected, he also saw a fire there, which he had not expected. She saw his look and lifted her chin defiantly.

Callon untied the pack horse's lead rope from his saddle and gave it a push towards Algeirr.

"Take this and be satisfied!" he said contemptuously, and then, betting everything that there was only one archer in the woods and that he would be the target instead of his sister, and hoping the pack horse would be enough of a distraction, said to his sister softly in that same language he used earlier, "Fly, Caelen!" Flight and possible death were preferable to what they were all too likely to find at the hands of these brigands.

Caelen looked at her brother, wondering if she had heard right. Callon took his reins and gave the pack horse a whip that sent him snorting and prancing in astonishment towards the man in the road. He then urged his mare forward and gave Caelen's mare a whip and a shout to get them going, always keeping himself in the line of fire between his sister and where he thought the archer was in the woods.

Algeirr stumbled out of the way of the frightened pack horse, cursing loudly and yelling, "Kvigr! Stop them! Shoot!"

Kvigr had already set an arrow to the string, waiting for Algeirr's next command. He sighted and shot, aiming at the male Tark's horse. He was a good shot and had good position. The arrow sank into the mare's hindquarters, and she screamed and stumbled. It was a beautiful horse, and he didn't like to shoot it, but he didn't want to get blamed for the escape, either. Life was full of tough luck, and he had had his share. Now, perhaps, there would be some rewards for his skill and presence of mind, and he could go home richer than when he left.

Callon was thrown hard onto the road as the mare fell to her knees and then jerked up again, holding her injured hind leg up off the road in distress. Caelen felt her brother and his mare leave her side and pulled up in confusion.

"Go! GO!!" shouted Callon, as he tried to get up and failed, stunned and bleeding from a wound to his head. "Fly!"

Caelen saw the hated Einarr closing in on her brother as he was still helpless on the ground, and she never hesitated. She wheeled her mare around and flew - but towards her brother, not away from him.

"NO!" Callon shouted in agony, his bloodied face distorted with pain, and even worse, fear for his sister. He cared nothing for his own life now - if his sister could get away, let them kill him. Just as Einarr came up behind her brother with a drawn knife in his hand, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back, she ran her mare hard right at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several other men run onto the road, but she didn't care. She could never leave her brother, and preferred dying with him to living without him. She didn't stop to think that they might kill him and leave her alive to live a life worse than death.

Einarr released his grip on her brother and dove to the side of the road. The mare, nimble-footed, avoided Callon lying on the road. The other men ran up to Callon and soon had him immobilized. Caelen wheeled her mare around again and stopped, unsure what to do. It was now seven to one against her, and they had her brother, still alive.