My My, What Fetching Horns You Have

[Morry]

Grinning in what he thought was a sly manner, Salazar merely watched while the man gathered the bags and was quickly off. The transaction was complete, or so he thought anyway. He touched his fingers across his smooth, shaved chin and when the door was shut, his head flipped around in a way that made his golden hair seem to dance in air for a moment. Bomber grunted, glaring at the door as if it was his worst enemy for bringing the untrustworthy man to them. There was something off about him, although he couldn't point at what. Something more intelligent than what Lord Salazar had caught.

The Lord's light blue gaze had become effectively stuck to the box after the man had left. He stared at it with a glimmer of wonder and greed sparking dangerously, a look that oddly suited him despite his rather nonthreatening appearance and nature. Bomber knew that Salazar had deep, dark weaknesses in him that made him capable of great evil.

In fact, he was afraid of whatever was in that box. If time had taught him anything, it was that something so small and yet so valuable was infused with magic, perhaps ancient, and likely of a darker touch. There was a rule not to touch what was in the box, which further confirmed Bomber's suspicions. Lord Salazar was tracing his lady-like fingers along the creases of the box, as if comforting and lulling what was inside. There was a weird, tainted smile across his pale features that was unsettling.

Bomber scratched his head, then rubbed his wrist across his mustache out of habit.

"We will be leaving tonight, as I have no desire to linger in this terrible little town for longer than necessary," said Salazar, not taking his eyes off the box. He said it without smiling. "However," he added, and at last he turned, his robes whipping around with him like a flowing woman's dress, "we have plenty of time to kill, and our acquired item calls for celebration!"

"Round up our dear friends, and for Theogios' sake find some women."

They would leave at nightfall. Then was safest to transport his prized possession, he figured.
It was a mistake of decisions he would never have time to regret.

[Dianelopa]

Dianelopa had not been able to locate exactly where Thad was and the burly man blocking her way back to the dining area was making matters worse. She went on down the hall which ended in a wing with a hall going off in each direction. Thad's scent was stronger there, so she followed it, but saw nothing. He must have gone in one of these rooms she thought. She hid in a storage closet at the end of the hall, hoping he might come out. But nothing happened. When she walked back down the hall the scent of Thad had thinned and she could not smell him in any of the rooms.

What now? she thought. This is not going well. I'm failing. I'm failing Benjamin. A note of desperation was hanging in the air. Unsure of what to do next, she suddenly noticed that the charm that she had hanging around her neck seemed unpleasantly warm against her chest. At first it was an irritation, then she thought, could that thing help me now? Uh hardly, it helps when someone attacks me, yeah, but no one is attacking me now. However to cool off a little she took it in her hand. It became warmer, so warm her hand felt like it was burning, so she dropped it and it's heat spread through her clothes. She began to sweat and became so hot that she had to get outside to cool off. She ran. The burly man was still in the dining hall, and when she ran past he yelled, "hey you, come here." But she ignored him and ran outside.

The fresh air cleared her mind a bit and she did what was natural, she sniffed. But Thad's scent was no stronger here than it had been inside. "No", she whispered. "That didn't help."

She began walking slowly down the road, not having any notion where to go. An old woman, stooped, walking with a stick to support her, dressed completely in black ambled slowly toward her. At first, Dianelopa ignored her. But as she came closer, Dianelopa noticed that she was walking straight toward her. If she kept the same trajectory they'd crash. When they were very close Dianelopa stepped to the side to let the woman pass. For a second their eyes met. Odd, thought Dianelopa. Her eyes are odd. She looked away and walked on. But after a couple steps, she couldn't help but turn and stare again. The charm which had seemed to cool off somewhat, was hot again.

The old woman was walking slowly and uncertainly. Dianelopa caught up with her. "Hello, Ma'am," said Dianelopa. "You look like you might be lost. Can I help you?"

"Hmmm," said the old woman. "Well, yes, I'm looking."

"I know the town fairly well," said Dianelopa. "What are you looking for."

"Well, actually, a young girl."

"A girl? Do you know her name?"

"No," said the old woman. "But she once lived on a farm near here with her adopted mother and father who were farmers. Her mother's name was Leeka."
"Oh," said Dianelopa, "I think that's me."

"You?"

"Well, my mother's name is Leeka and I was adopted."

"Then I suspect it's you I'm looking for. You called for me."

"I did?"

"Well, if you didn't then you're not the girl."

Dianelopa frowned. "I might have," she said. "I just didn't know, I mean, well..." She didn't know what else to say. She figured the charm she had was a little more powerful than she reckoned. Not only did it tend to scare enemies away, but it also seemed capable of summoning an old woman, but for what?
The old woman shook her stick. "What is it you need?"

Dianelopa was not sure whether or how much she could trust this woman. There was no doubt that she was strange. Her eyes were bloodshot, but shiny. She exuded some kind of aura. But she decided to tell her and see what would happen. "I was supposed to follow Thad and spy on him to see where he goes. But I've lost him. I screwed up. I fell asleep and.." Dianelopa's voice cracked and she could feel tears welling up.

"Ah, well, shit happens. And who's Thad?"

"A man, my husband."

"And why must you follow him?"

"I don't know," said Dianelopa. "It's my job. Maybe he was going to steal something."

"Tell me about him," said the old woman. "Why would he steal something? Where and when did you last see him?"

"I saw him last night, before I fell asleep. I could still catch his scent this morning in that inn. But he's not there now." She pointed. "He steals because he's a thief."

"A thief?" The old woman groaned. "That's not good. And you're also a thief?"

"No," said Dianelopa. "I am not. And he is not a bad thief. He steals only from the rich and often helps the poor."

The old woman cackled or maybe it was a laugh. "Whatever, she said. "Where do you think he might be going now?"

"If I only knew," said Dianelopa.

"Well, there is only one road going to Marn and one into the beyond. Only two possibilities."

"The woods," said Dianelopa.

"OK, three."

"Four."

"You said that you caught his scent. Does he wear perfume?" asked the old woman.

Dianelopa laughed. "No, I just have a good sense of smell, that's all."

"Ah," the old woman eyed Dianelopa thoroughly. "Perhaps not completely human," she muttered.

Dianelopa heard it, but said nothing.

"We will find him. I will go toward Marn and you will tell me where to look for him. You go the other way and try to get his scent. If that fails we meet here again and go the third and fourth ways. We must go fast now."

"Fast," said Dianelopa and stared at the wobbly old woman, wondering how she could ever be fast.

"Yes, very fast," said the old woman. "Keep your nose open," she cackled again. "Go."

Dianelopa scurried off down the road away from Shim, away from Marn. When she turned back to see how far the old woman had gotten, she could not see her.

[Anja]

Soon, his running began to take on the character of rhythmic ease, no longer tainted with the thrill of the escape. Only when the transition was complete did he actually begin to contemplate the ridiculous amount of bishani in his possession. He had never, ever seen this much money before. It gave his blood a tingle.

Two hours' steady jogging had now brought him a sufficient distance from Shim to justify, in his mind, a change of pace. He took in his surroundings as he adopted a sort of giddy stroll. It had been ages since he'd had cause to burrow himself away in the old forest hideout northwest of Shim, and he was no woodsman. He hoped he was going in the right direction. A compass! Fuck! With so much to consider in the preparation of his task, he had forgotten certain essentials.

The problem with having such a well-hidden hideout was that you couldn't find it when you really needed to hide out. He tried to remember the landmarks, and, it being such a brilliant hideout, he remembered forlornly that there weren't any. It was just a hole in the ground, sitting in a nondescript kind of way in a sparsely treed field that was riddled with holes in the ground. Only, this hole opened up into a nice, warm, hollowed out cavern. Brilliant, indeed.

Right, first things first. He had to find the field. Without a compass. He looked at the sun, which was descending, slowly, from high noon. Perhaps in an hour or two, he would be able to read it accurately enough. For the time being, he slumped into a little grove of low bushes, sat on his bags, and initiated one of his famously alert power naps.

[Morry]

Ale, song, and Changers, the women!

"The finest company in Thar Shaddin, no doubt!" exclaimed Salazar in what appeared to be a half-drunken stupor and was really a result of the pleasantly "silly" smoke from a burning, equally "silly" pipe lying on the table. Salazar had used a handful of his remaining funds to pay the innkeeper of the Red Chalice and effectively keep unwanted guests out of the lower quarters. Those that were allowed were the rich, the trusted, and those lacking in Y chromosomes, including the handful of "company" that Salazar had sent for.

One such member of the company had fit herself onto Salazar's too-clean lap, who had continuously been giggling before she and her female counterparts had come, saying, "I have recently sent for the finest company in all of Thar Shaddin," continuously, which he had read two days earlier on a small flyer on the way to Shim.

Bomber was less than pleased due to the misfortune of displacing some important medication of sorts, which Lord Salazar had not seemed to take any interest in even though the red-haired guard was immediately suspicious.
The merrymaking would leave the Lord tired by the evening hours, but no matter.

For his plan was obviously foolproof.

[Dianelopa]

Dianelopa had powerwalked the road away from Shim, sniffing as she went. Good there aren't many people here she thought as she took another deep sniff. But there was nothing, not the tiniest inkling of Thad. It's the wrong way, she muttered. I'd be noticing something by now if it wasn't. She turned around and went back to the inn in Shim, this time running.

To her astonishment the old woman was standing there. "Well?" said Dianelopa. "Did you get very far?"

"Yes," said the woman, "and he wasn't on that road."

Dianelopa wondered how the woman could know that, but decided just to accept it, otherwise the task would be too overwhelming, so she said, "OK, then it's the wilderness. Ugh."

"180 degrees for each of us," said the woman. "That won't be easy."

Dianelopa knew the wilderness around Shim fairly well, after all, she'd grown up there, so she wasn't worried about getting lost in the vast expanses of woods and sparse vegetation. But she was worried. Why would Thad go off into the wilderness in the first place? There was surely nothing there for him to steal. Maybe he'd been kidnapped or was dead, or the woman wasn't telling the truth about Marn. Maybe, yeah, that was pretty likely, how could she have searched out the whole road to the city that fast. Nonetheless, Dianelopa skimmed through the brush, sand, small trees and woods as quickly as she could, always trying to catch a whiff of Thad, but there was nothing. She was getting discouraged. And perhaps even worse, she was getting hungry. It was a long time since she'd eaten and she'd been using a lot of energy since then. Going further seemed senseless. Perhaps the hunger pains were encouraging that feeling. She decided to go back to the inn and maybe at least get a bite to eat.

The old woman was not there this time. Dianelopa went to the entrance of the inn. She could hear a horrible ruckus inside which wasn't inviting. Furthermore, a big man was standing just inside the door, blocking the way in. Once again, Dianelopa felt as if she might start crying. But she just stood there by the door staring blankly.

[Anja]

When Thad awoke an hour or two later, the sun was slightly more forgiving. He was a good judge of its trajectory, and something feral in him started to recognize certain shadows. He wasn't far away.

A brisk jog later north-northwest, with some well-considered corrections, brought him to a tree that had the bark stripped off of it in thin lines all around at head height. He studied it closely, and found the thickest bare strip. It was on the western side, so he went west. Soon enough, he came upon the meadow, and in the corner closest to him, draped by the low branches of conifers and thick with bullgrass, he found his knoll. The hole in its underside was deceptively large, and he seemed to vanish into the grassy ground itself, pulling the bag in after him.

Within the knoll was a spacious cavern, dug out by hand and supported by oaken buttresses set into the walls. Thad lit a match, faintly illuminating the broader walls, and obscuring the corners into places of phantasm. He found the right wall, a subterranean boulder, and fished in his pocket to bring out a thin, durable quill which inserted itself smoothly into a pinprick in the rock face. A portion of it slid open with a rumbling click, and he placed the bag inside.

Also inside the rock safe was his little bandit crew's weapon cache; swords of varying class and quality wrapped in oilcloth, a set of hardened leather greaves and body armour, various knick knacks like brass knuckles, finger traps and other exotic toys, and a finely balanced light crossbow.

He donned the armour under his clothes, ignoring the rest, and departed from the hideout, eating some dried meat from his cloak pocket as he went. The armour wasn't a perfect fit, but it was close enough, and he still felt light and agile without the weight of the bishani. With the clear day and the guiding sun on his side, he would reach the roadside six miles east of Shim before dark.

[Morry]

As the sun began to shift to the west and the muddied blue-grey sky began to turn a funny shade of purple, the Inn was at last beginning to settle. Clydenstein had been thoroughly enjoying himself among the many dim-witted girls, as well as some locals who had bothered to pop into the now alcohol and money-coated Red Chalice. His cheery, girlish voice was full of spirits and a drunken stupor had been added to his already uneducated-sounding accent. "D'ere's a'never been sao muhch ale 'n pussy mist...ar luord sir!" he called out as he swayed dumbly in his chair. His armor had been removed and he stunk of skin and sweat and who knew what else. He was, thankfully, the only truly drunk man of the lot. The rest were small town folk that Salazar had lavished with the blessings of celebratory ale and whores.

"Oh, Dear Clydenstein. Bomber, do keep track of the entry and uh..wha's you're name..uhh.." The voice of Lord Salazar was less than "all there," though he was perhaps less drunk and more high. Chek and Bomber had, other than the women, abstained from most of the celebration. "CHEK yes, uh, get our Clydenstein moving in a direction that isn't sideways and ready the horses," he said.

"Mm," grunted the thick-voiced Chek, who immediately took the order and sent a fist flying at Clydenstein's shoulder, who fell clean off of his chair and made several moaning noises.

At the door, as Salazar busied himself with fondling a sandy-haired woman while simultaneously ignoring her, Bomber was met with what appeared to be a young woman who didn't belong here. Her face and hair were oddly desaturated, like she was coated in a veil of grey. Her boots were thick with the mud and dirt of the woods and she looked altogether peculiar. Bomber grunted, shifting so he could see her better, as his bad eye had worsened throughout the day. "Business, missy?" he asked.

Just then Chek could be seen behind, dragging Clydenstein by his feet to the other exit even though the drunken man could clearly still walk. "WHOSS DA GIRLEH EH?" sputtered the man as he was dragged.
"Shu' up, Clyde. Let tha girl in will ye? Looks harmless," said Chek, taking little interest other than the pause to speak as he resumed in needlessly screwing with drunken Clyde.

Bomber grunted, tapped the hilt of his sword as a reminder, and moved so the girl could enter if she wanted to, although there was little to behold inside other than ale, sex, and a handful of dangerous men. Surely the sounds were less then welcoming.

---

As the sun slipped below the horizon and thus twilight began with the song of a murder of crows, Clyde had somehow managed to prepare and saddle the two brown horses. Chek had packed the treasures that they had brought or found or "found" on their travel here into the carriage. The grey dapple draught horse, Elenor, had been placed in her regular position. She would haul the load as she was meant to, and the large, brilliant white horse with proud stature and long, strong neck was placed in front for Salazar to ride. The horse was an exotic, expensive breed, and this particular creature had seen war, suffering, and many fallen men. It was apparent to even Chek that Lord Salazar did not deserve such a beast.

The darkness grew fast on them, the waxing moon gaining height as Venus and her fellow stars began to shine.

Within the hour the group of four had set off, although they had become a group of seven because of the three "wondrousplendrous" prostitutes Salazar had insisted on bringing with them.

[Dianelopa]

Although the atmosphere in the inn was disgusting to Dianelopa, she was hungry enough that when the burly man moved out of the way, she went in and ordered whatever they had left to eat, which wasn't much. She gobbled it down and got out of the place again as quickly as possible.

The sun was moving toward the horizon, but it was still light enough to see up the road. There was a now familiar figure ambling awkwardly, as old people do, toward her. A relieved, oh, escaped Dianelopa's mouth and she ran toward the old lady. "Did you?" she cried.

"Yes, I did," said the old woman and smiled. "I saw him. He was lying in the grass."

"Dead?" said Dianelopa with a pang of fear.

"No," the woman shook her head, "just resting. I didn't get too close because I didn't want him to see me. But I'll describe exactly where you must go to find him, if he's still there by then."

Dianelopa listened impatiently, virtually hopping up and down ready to dash off, and when the old woman finished, Dianelopa gave her a hug and was about to run. The odd look on the woman's face, however, put a momentary damper on. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing," said the old woman. "It's just, I'm not used to being hugged. Uh, it was nice. Now git."

Dianelopa was gone in an instant. But when she reached the spot which she was sure matched what the old woman had described, there was no Thad. Dianelopa sniffed, as was her wont in such situations. And she smelled Thad, strongly. Her heart began pounding. Now it was only to find out where he'd gone. It wasn't that difficult either. He hadn't been trying to hide his tracks and Dianelopa could see bent grass, broken twigs, and an ever stronger scent. But she wasn't being careful either, almost forgetting that he must not know she was following him.
What she then found, astonished her more than anything else on this odd trip. Under a knoll hidden by grass and conifers was a large hole. The scent of Thad was so strong that Dianelopa figured he was either there now or had recently been there. She listened, and heard nothing. Her curiosity was getting the best of her. Pretty certain he wasn't inside, she ventured into the hole. There was a cavernous room which had clearly been created by human hands. "What is this?" she wondered. "And why did Thad come here? What did he do here? "

What she should have done, was to go out and find Thad. Instead, she felt compelled to find out what the meaning of this place was. She had no match, but there was still a trickle of light coming from outside and, of course, she could smell where had Thad touched the walls perhaps, or the floor. She found a spot which seemed like Thad had left his marks, however it was nothing but a slight unevenness in the wall. She punched and picked around at it with her fingernails, but nothing happened. "Oh well," she thought, disappointed. "I guess I better go."

Outside, the sun had disappeared behind the trees. Twilight was settling over the earth, which on the whole was always good for Dianelopa, her senses already unusually strong becoming even more sensitive. She followed the path Thad had taken.

[Anja]

There is nothing, mused Thad as he lay in the ditch, quite as thrilling and at the same time quite as boring, as lying in wait to rob somebody. This time, the unsettlingly dichotomous feeling was compounded by the knowledge that he was also expected to kill the entire party, by himself. He had, several times since his last meeting with Puck, cursed his bad recruiting luck. He hadn't been given enough time to get his clan involved, as the Keep was several days' marching from Marn, and his Marnian associates all seemed to be making themselves scarce these days. Perhaps their bones felt a chill of incoming ill-weather that had somehow escaped his instincts.

Either way, it was a rock and a hard place he found himself wedged between, and on top of that, he was getting bored. He played with his dagger, idly practicing his supernaturally true aim with it on the spaces between his fingers, his hand splayed out on the surface of a fallen, rotting log. It was then that he heard the unmistakable clatter of wheels and hooves some ways down the quiet, twilit road, and above that, a single note; the sharp, annoyingly decadent laughter of his target. He drew himself deeper into the shadows and gripped the blade, waiting for the horse to stumble in the carefully widened and deepened abrasions in the stretch of road before him. He had filled them in with crushed rock scraped from the surrounding road surface, so that they became invisible sinkholes in the road. The driver would go first...

[Morry]

Darkness crept carefully on the Autumn sky, as though tentative and perhaps even frightened of what was to come. The night of Marn and its surrounding landscapes was a very different world, as with most parts of Pal Tahrenor. It was full to the brim with all sorts of creatures, characters, and terrifying unknowns. It was a world where criminals crept like ants under the woodwork, busying themselves with mundane tasks and trying to survive despite the challenges ahead of them.

Beneath some soggy hay, Morry moved as he rose his head and blinked, confused for a long moment while he squinted at the old stable and tried to make sense of where he was and why. His brain was slow to wake up as usual, which was why it took him several minutes to realize that he was naked, human, and that he had a task to do.

He was supposed to follow that idiot bandit and get whatever the shit was in that box, and sell it, and be rich and stuff. He wiped a dirty hand across his scruffy face and took the saliva dribbling down his lip from sleep. He cracked his neck, cracked his back, and cursed himself for moving so far without his bag. Running his tongue along his teeth, he spat when he realized they were fuzzy with plaque and whatever dirty thing he'd eaten last, so he grabbed some straw, went outside and brushed the straw against his teeth. It hurt, his gums were so raw, but he hadn't carried his actual makeshift toothbrush with him and fuck he couldn't stand not brushing them and if he didn't do it now then something horrible would happen and it was better to prevent it by doing this and that was why he had to do it at least five times every day.

He spat some blood out into a muddied puddle and moved back into the woods, trying to ignore how cold he was by remembering tonight was a three quarter moon, and knowing with every cell of his body that he would not be this way for long. He moved up the wood, following the outline of the nearby road while his feet began to bleed from walking on sharp rocks and the occasional thorn.
____________

The group, led by the brilliant white horse, cruised down the road with the whores giggling dully inside the carriage. Bomber had taken to putting his palm against his helmet out of boredom, trying not to listen to the three in front or the three behind. He could feel the carriage shifting with the weight of the apparently moving girls, who were talking and giggling about something entirely unrelated, discussing variations of perfume and gossiping about other women they knew. They behaved almost like normal women, he thought.

"Ahee coul' beatyeaou boss I coulda," slurred Clydenstein, who was swaying dangerously on his brown horse. The animal was having serious trouble understanding the commands of Clyde, and snorted every time his reins were pulled on or his quarters were kicked. Experienced told the horse he was supposed to stay with the group, but he had been forced almost off the road completely and was now being told by his handler to turn around. The horse nickered impatiently, and reared up for a moment, making grunting noises. It was a miracle Clyde was able to cling tight enough so as not to fall off.

Salazar laughed girlishly, his horse trotting in a circle around the struggling Clyde.
"I am doubting your ability to remain upright on that creature long enough to beat me at any race," he chuckled, but stopped immediately, as his exotic white steed made a very loud, dangerous-sounding whinny. Salazar tugged the reins and forced the stallion to move forward, but the animal pulled back tightly and stamped his feet into the road, grunting and resisting any command to keep moving.
"You stupid, deranged beast. I'd bet it's wanting to pull those nice ladies in there eh? Men let's switch Elenor an--"

There was immediately a sound of startled neighs, a scraping noise, and a jolting pound that sounded as if the wheels of the carriage had hit something, or many things. Both Clyde's horse and the brown mare ridden by Chek had slid and stumbled in the abrasions of the road , but Clyde had accidentally forced his force to fall over.

The effect was worsened because of exactly how unaware the men were, but Salazar's horse refused to move forward anymore, gripped by an instinctual fear and a knowledge that this was about to get far worse.
_______

It was correct for all parties involved. The sounds cracking of expanding bone and horrible tearing of skin signaled Morry's transformation from man to wolf, the moon forcing him to obey the laws of night.

[Dianelopa]

It was no longer difficult for Dianelopa to follow Thad. By the time she'd caught up to him, it was dark. The night seemed to growl and groan with spirits of all sorts. Dianelopa sensed it, and knew instinctively that some kind of horrible conflagration was going to happen. Normally this wouldn't have bothered her much. She loved the excitement of the night. But knowing that Thad was nearby and knowing that he did not have the night sensitivities that she did, made her nervous and a little frightened. She wanted to see Thad.

Slowly she edged up toward the ditch where she figured he was hiding. Well, she assumed he was hiding, for why else would he be crouched down in a ditch instead of simply walking down the road. She hoped she was being silent enough. It seemed likely because the night was strangely loud. She heard horses, a wagon, people laughing, what else?

At approximately the same moment that she was close enough to actually see Thad's head poking up over the top of the ditch, she also saw two horses with riders stumble and slide on the road while the wagon coming up behind them screeched as its wheels splintered on some kind of obstacles in the road.

[Anja]

Thad was quick to spring into action, his nimble feet carrying him up through the air, using the lip of the gravel road as a springboard to launch himself at the carriage. Bomber's reduced vision gave Thad the edge he needed. These were well-trained mercenaries, and Thad had no illusions of superiority. The man's reflexive response would have been deadly, had his eyesight been optimal: A swift jab with a nasty little dagger caught Thad on the left forearm as he grabbed Bomber's coat and slashed open his jugular.

The pain didn't come right away; the blade was sharp, and the extent of the cut didn't dawn upon Thad until after he had wrenched the horsewhip free and laid into the mare that was bearing the carriage. As the horse jerked into panicked motion, Thad was thrown backwards into the coach seat and the exhaling mercenary's lap. He suddenly felt a deep, hot agony sink into his bare forearm. He looked down and saw that he was bleeding profusely from an even, vicious cut that ran from the top of his wrist and nearly up to the elbow.

His head began to swim with endorphins as carriage-horse crashed into the rear legs of Chek's horse, and he grimaced as he jolted to his feet and launched himself to the ground. His legs prickled as he raced forward, intent on pressing his advantage before he started to bleed out in earnest.

[Morry]

Salazar had not brought three guards with him on this journey for no reason. He had half-expected someone or something to try to kill him and take his stuff somewhere along the line, but he realized now in this split-second moment that he had dropped his guard at the worst possible time. Treasure he could part with. The women he cared nothing about and he was content for them to die or be stolen and raped or what have you, as to him they were soulless objects. But the box was very different, or rather, the item in the box.

The attacker was difficult to see, difficult to place, and difficult to do anything about because the white stallion he rode was not intent on sticking around. It kicked beneath him and whinnied and snorted alarming noises. The scent of fear and impending danger flooded the nares of the animals and they wanted to panic, but these were experienced animals; many had seen war and death enough to know that their chances were actually better if the attacker was killed, and this would only happen if they did exactly as their masters told them to do with each subtle and harsh twisting and pulling of the reigns and bits.

Elenor, the great silver draft horse, shuffled forward and pulled violently with fear and confusion as the nearly-dead body of her driver lolled his head and slowly rolled off from the coach seat. Life left him oddly; his last memory would be the strange, hot wetness against his neck like he had sweat too much, and then the dizzying feeling of sudden blood loss and falling, falling, falling.

He had taken the driving reigns with him and Elenor made frantic cries, crashing into one of the browns in front of her. The girls inside the carriage were screaming and falling over each other trying to reach the two doors at each side, and when they were open they each fell over their own skirts and skittered away like brainless lemmings off a cliff.

Chek and Clydenstein bellowed, one wielding a large dagger and the other a single-handed sword. Chek regained control of his injured horse and flew forward after the still very drunk Clyde. They each aimed for the difficult to see attacker, but Clyde missed and Chek's horse buckled at the knees and threw him forward onto the ground.

Salazar's horse had taken an alternate route slightly around the trap and the noble was pulling him around to face the bandit and kill him with the light, well-made sword in his silver coat. He tried to draw it and it stuck for a moment.

This man was here for the box. He didn't know who he was and he didn't care. The item was his.

One of the women suddenly screamed in agony behind them, and the sound of a fast-moving animal huffing and growling became only two apparent, if it was possible to hear over the hooves and calls of the men and horses.

[Dianelopa]

No one knew that Dianelopa was there. She remained hidden behind the scrawny brush along the side of the road in a slight depression from where she could see everything. But she wasn't feeling calm, cool and collected. The scene, a confusion of blood, screaming, and destruction was terrifying her. Never in her life had she experienced anything like it. Worst of all was the sight of Thad, whom she could tell was badly wounded and losing blood fast. Yet he was acting as if nothing had happened, ready to battle the fat man who was drawing his sword obviously with the intent to slay. She wanted to shout, it's not worth it, Thad. Get away and save your life. But Benjamin's words were haunting her, filling her with confusion. Don't let him know you're following him. But did Benjamin say, don't help him if he's about to die? No, he did not.

But Thad was not yet about to die.

One of the screaming girls who had stumbled out of the carriage was running in Dianelopa's direction which for a moment drew her attention away from the battle scene. Dianelopa had to move to the side or the girl would surely step on her. No longer completely hidden by brush, Dianelopa would have been slightly visible from the carriage or from someone on a horse, if they had looked in that direction. The girl who couldn't see the depression where Dianelopa had been hiding lost her footing there and landed flat on her stomach no more than a foot away. The girl began to sob.

Dianelopa pressed herself against the ground and didn't move. It was then, while trying to make herself as invisible as possible that she noted a new crescendo of screams from a girl who'd stumbled off in the other direction. From her low position it was difficult for Dianelopa to see what was happening there. But she thought she was seeing the top of the head of a wolf vaulting toward the battle scene. Why? she wondered. It's not normal for a wolf to go toward such a carambolage. They were smarter than that, they'd wait. Maybe I'm imagining this, she thought.

[Anja]

Thad's feint in the face of Clydenstein's rapier thrust was more luck than anything; his knees had given in for a brief moment, causing a lunge that was aimed for his chest to pass harmlessly over his right shoulder. He was still running, and he summoned a surge of strength and rammed his shoulder up into Clyde's armpit, knocking the man to the ground and sending his weapon into the encroaching darkness. He was operating on adrenaline alone now, and in the same movement, Thad fell over the prone form of Chek and plunged his dagger into the man's heart.

The peripheries of his vision informed him that Salazar was fumbling with his weapon, and posed no immediate threat, so he launched himself against what he thought must be the final threat, the disarmed Clydenstein. As he came to his feet, he heard the shrieking, and the snarl of a wolf, not twenty feet away. Salazar was between him and the source of the sound. His mind flooded with untimely speculation. Was it Dianelopa? What was she doing here? No normal wolf would attack this mess of fools, not even in a pack.

He had never seen Dianelopa in wolf form, though they had discussed her nature often enough before. He caught glimpses of a monstrous, slavering shadow between the legs of the white horse. If this was truly her, the change was grotesque, hellish. Sweet Changer, what a monstrous curse to bear...

He had hesitated too long. Clydenstein was upon him once more, weapon in hand. He instinctively kicked up a load of road rubble into the man's face and ducked swiftly to the left, circling away from both Clyde and his employer. Unlike Salazar, this man was not an opponent to be taken lightly.