He closed his eyes, forcing himself to keep breathing evenly, hoping that his expression hadn't betrayed the presence of people behind them. Let it be rescue, he thought, and considered the glimpse he'd had. Just silhouettes, in the shadowed edge of the forest, against the sunlit brightness of the grassy hills beyond. But they'd had the shape of armed and armoured men, and he was pretty certain one of them had the small stature of an elf; Zevran, he hoped desperately. Certainly not Fenris – though if it was Zevran than the other elf was likely around as well – as the warrior was tall for an elf, tall as a human, and therefor not so easily picked out of a single brief glimpse of distant shapes.
He could feel his heart thudding with the surprise of it still, and found himself hoping that Guillaume hadn't noticed, or that if he had, he attributed it to something easy to dismiss, like Anders feeling panicked at having been recaptured. He found himself straining to hear any sound of people catching up with them, and had to remind himself to keep breathing, to stay relaxed.
The wait grew too much. He opened his eyes again, and saw... nothing. Trees. A curve in the road, whatever was behind them out of sight beyond it. The two templars in back of him, the young one gazing up at the trees arching overhead, the other one frowning darkly at Anders. Seeing the mage looking at him, he grinned, one hand dropping to caress a dagger on his belt. He was, Anders idly noted, the only one of them carrying a bow; it had been his arrow that ended Anders' attempt to outrun the templars.
Guillaume suddenly came to a stop, head lifting as he turned to peer into the forest off to their right. A moment later he cursed, and lunged toward the opposite side of the road. "Antony, par ici!"(1) he shouted as he moved.
Anders got a glimpse of guardsmen dressed in the Starkhaven colours plunging out of the bushes alongside the road, a whirl of motion that had to be Zevran, the blue glow of Fenris' tattoos.
Seeker Reynard was shouting angrily. "Kill the mage!" he bellowed. "Kill him now!"
Guillaume dropped to one knee, and tumbled Anders off his back to the ground at the base of a tree, then rose again, drawing his sword; a two-handed weapon. For a moment Anders feared for his life, but the templar made no move to follow Reynard's orders, instead crouching defensively over Anders, the tree at his back. Antony had run over to join them, and moved into place at his left, unslinging a shield and drawing a sword of his own. He suddenly went from looking very young to very competent and dangerous.
Seeker Reynard was trying to fight his way to them, but there were too many guardsmen between him and them; the fourth templar had encountered Zevran, and was already falling to the ground, his throat slit, eyes wide with horrified disbelief at how quickly the slight figure had disarmed and dispatched him.
A group of guardsmen rushed Guillaume and Antony; Antony stood firm, protecting their left flank, his shield seeming an immovable wall as he fought off multiple attackers at once. Guillaume and he were clearly well-used to working together, the larger templar holding his place, his massive sword moving with a nimbleness that would have seemed at odd with the blade's size, if Anders wasn't familiar with seeing Fenris' similar dexterity with an equally oversized sword.
He realized he'd lost track of Fenris, after seeing the flare of his lyrium lines at the start of the fight. He craned his head around, peering between Antony's legs, and finally caught sight of him, a grim expression on Fenris' face as he circled around the guardsmen engaging the Seeker, the glow of his lines muted again. The Seeker was working his way back towards the treeline, where he'd potentially be able to keep them from encircling him. Though how much good that would do him when one of his few remaining templars was already down and dying, the remainder of them facing a force that outnumbered them by more than two to one... his sword snaked past his shield, and one of the guardsman cried out and reeled back, his own weapon dropping to the ground as he clutched at a nasty gash laying his upper arm open to the bone. The Seeker skipped back closer to the trees lining the road.
Fenris, however, had other ideas. Even as Anders sucked in air and bit his lip, the elf suddenly leaped to one side and back in a move as smooth and graceful as a dance, ending behind the Seeker's back. The man desperately pummelled back the guardsmen in front of him with his shield, ducking just in time for Fenris' sword to pass harmlessly above his head rather than removing it at the neck. He dived to the side, and rolled to his feet again, forced back toward the middle of the road. "Antony! Kill the mage," he commanded again, voice an infuriated roar.
Antony made no move to do so, instead grimly holding off the guardsmen attacking him. Zevran had abandoned the first templar and moved over to engage Guillaume; so far the templar was holding him off, a look of grim concentration on his face as he countered the assassin's every move. Sometimes just barely, but that he was even doing it at all said much for just how talented a fighter he was.
Fenris was once more trying to flank Reynard, while a group of guardsmen kept the Seeker occupied. He was clearly aware of the elf's attempts, and kept backing and turning, again trying to work his way to a position where he'd have some small advantage of terrain on his side. He'd managed to take two more guardsmen out of the fight – one with a stab to the leg, another with a blow to the head – but they were quickly replaced. The guardsmen closed in, made an effort to encircle him, and he cursed, then suddenly gave an especially loud shout. The guards went stumbling backwards from the force of it, several of them falling to the ground, stunned. Reynard whirled, taking advantage of the break in battle to try and take out the elf, whom he'd correctly identified as a larger threat than the guardsmen.
Fenris, however, had not been affected by Reynard's vocal rebuff, and was ready for the attack. They exchanged a blindingly rapid series of blows and blocks, the Seeker desperately warding off the warrior's two-handed blows with sword and shield. And then Fenris suddenly side-stepped past him, ducking under his sword to rise in back of him, his entire body flashing forth with a brilliant blue glow as his hand plunged into Reynard's back.
The man gave a pained scream, rising up on his toes as Fenris' hand clenched deep in his chest, then collapsed to his knees as Fenris tore his hand back out again, covered in gore. The Seeker wavered for a moment on his knees, then fell forward, blood gushing from his mouth to stain the dusty road.
Fenris turned and strode confidently toward the two templars standing over Anders, ready for his next target.
"Par la grâce d'Andraste, qu'est-ce que c'était!"(2) Anthony exclaimed, voice filled with horror, having witnessed Reynard's end. "Est-il un démon?"(3)
Whatever his horrified words meant, his obvious fear of Fenris did not prevent him from putting up a stalwart defence as the guardsmen parted to let the elf move in to the attack. Antony was good; very good – but not as good as Fenris. The elf's third stroke knocked him off balance, Antony fending the sword off successfully but being driven down on one knee by the force of the blow, a pained gasp escaping him.
"Antony!" Guillaume exclaimed fearfully, and suddenly a soundless force burst forth from him, hammering Anders down against the ground, throwing everyone else back, even Fenris being knocked off of his feet by the strength of it. Antony was thrown to hands and knees by it, his sword skittering away across the ground. He crouched there, looking dazed. Guillaume cursed, then leaned down, grabbed the back of his armour with one hand, and heaved on it, dragging him backwards and dropping him almost on top of Anders.
The big templar rose back to his feet, standing protectively over the pair of them, and gestured with his sword as Zevran, Fenris and the guardsmen regained their feet and lunged towards him. A shimmering sphere of energy popped into view around the three, keeping the elves and guards at a distance.
Anders rolled over on his back, staring up at Guillaume in shock. "By the Maker's pimpled arse! You're a mage!"
1 – Antony, to me!
2 – By Andraste's grace, what was that!
3 – Is he a demon?