No time, he told himself. He ran for the castle stables instead. Another bolt flashed past him, but Renard ducked into cover, hiding behind a door, then scuttling low to duck in behind some hay bales. The guard who had fired at him came in, loading a fresh bolt, and the germs of a plan formed in Renards mind when no more followed.

Dont think, he reminded himself. Ride the chaos.

He waited until the mans back was turned, lunged up, and wrapped a meaty arm around his throat. Renard squeezed, and kept squeezing until the guard went limp. Then he dragged him back behind the hay and started to change.

The disguise that resulted was a long way from perfect. Renard had the mans surcoat with Lord Carricks insignia, and he had a helm that would disguise some of his features, but they were built too differently for Renard to steal the other mans armor. He would just have to hope that confidence was enough.

Going through the stable, he selected a mount and saddled it, throwing his ill-gotten gains into the saddle bags. Renard mounted up, trying not to think of all the ways that this could go wrong, then, very deliberately, he rode out into the middle of the castle.

Around it, he could see guards milling about, clearly trying to find him. How long would he have now? Minutes? Seconds? In the voice he normally reserved for quieting rowdy crowds when he played, Renard called out to them.

Quick, hes over the wall! We need to get after him! Open the gate!

For a second, he thought it wouldnt work. It shouldnt have worked, because he knew just how flimsy this disguise was, and how stupid it was to open a gate when a thief was inside. Yet it seemed that these men were too afraid of losing part of Lord Carricks spoils to think properly, and the gate swung open.

Renard charged through it, bellowing more nonsense about getting after the thief. Men came out with him on foot, but Renard surged forward, outpacing them with what he hoped looked like his eagerness for the chase. He rode for what must have been half a mile before he grabbed the saddlebags and hopped down from the saddle, striking the horse to send it off in a fresh direction in case the guards had worked out his ruse by now.

Renard went the other way, to the spot where hed left his own horse. He could feel the pain of the sword blow hed taken, and the ache in his ribs from the fall, but as he mounted up it seemed worth it. Hed done it; hed actually robbed Lord Carrick. With the sounds of the hunt for him still in the distance, it would be easy to ride clear.

Now, it was just a question of celebrating.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT