The closer we got to the bandits, the faster my heart beat. My breath quickened, catching every once in a while as I attempted to even it out.
This would be my first real encounter with combat. I had trained since the day Father Garius had taken over my charge. But I had never fought anyone that didn’t have my best interest in mind.
We followed at a safe distance behind the rebels, carefully picking our way closer so we could strike. We moved deeper into the forest, sliding around trees as thick as houses and over snaking roots,
When the temperature dropped enough to pull goose flesh from my skin, I let my nerves ring their warning bells in my head. Had we gone too far? Should we have made our move sooner?
“Psst!”
Oliver glared back at me, but I held my ground with wide eyes. “Enough!” I mouthed. I gave a pointed look at the men laughing at their good fortune in the distance. “We need to finish this,” I whispered. “Now.”
He looked up gauging our surroundings, the thickening fog and the three rebels. He nodded once and we crept closer to our prey.
We slunk between the trees, pressing our backs against the giant trunks before slithering around to swiftly move to the next one. My feet faltered as the distance started to take on a bizarre shape. Dark figures loomed as tall as the trees. Giants?
The fog rose, blanketing the strange outlines from my view. I shook my head and moved forward. The men were stepping into the denseness as if they knew a secret passage. It seemed to be a doorway of sorts.
Oliver rubbed his eyes, no doubt wondering at the strange sight.
The three men were speaking to each other in lower voices now. “I’ll catch up with you,” the one called Arrick told them.
The two other men said their goodbyes and stepped into the fog. Arrick bent down to refasten a buckle on my satchel.
“Now,” Oliver ordered.
And we made our move. Rushing forward with all the skill and stealth we’d been trained to use, we came upon the thief. Oliver stood at his left, while my blade tip touched the side of his neck.
He started in surprise, jerking upright with my blade following easily. When he tried to step away from me, Oliver’s sword was there to stop him. I held my weapon at his throat and glared at the shadow where his face hid behind his hood with every ounce of hatred and frustration boiling inside of me.
“I told you I would come for what’s mine.”
His shoulders squared. “You look different from this angle.”
I wanted to spit on his shoes, but instead I arched a brow and demanded, “My satchel.”
His head dipped, focusing on his hip where the pack in question rested. “Did you know there is something alive inside?” I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could utter a sound he’d produced Shiksa. “Wherever did you find a fox this shade? I’ve never seen one so completely white.”
“Put her back and hand over my purse,” I demanded. He grunted when Oliver’s blade nicked his cloak, tearing a whole at the seam of his hood.
“There’s no need for brute force,” Arrick argued. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement if you’d just talk this—”
I stepped forward, closing the safe distance between us. “Give me back what’s mine, Rebel, or I’ll see that you’re incapable of talking ever again.”
“Such threats,” he murmured. The amusement in his deep voice made me want to scream at him.
Something pointy pressed through the thick folds of my cloak. I made a sound in the back of my throat, but did not waver. When I lifted my eyes from Arrick’s cloaked face I saw that we were surrounded.
Oliver too had a blade at his back and beyond that there were more than a dozen men surrounding us.
I lifted my chin. “You’ll have to kill me then. I will not leave here without my satchel.”
“Clearly this purse is of some value to you, m’lady,” He said evenly. I growled something foul at his sudden appearance of chivalry. His smile was unmistakable this time as his hood fell back to reveal the lower half of his face. He lifted the satchel over his shoulder with slow, even movements and held it out to me. “It’s yours,” he offered gallantly.
“It is mine,” I agreed. I made no move to take it though, certain this was a trap.
He dangled it from his fingers. “Take it then.”
“What’s the catch?”
