After that, it was almost too easy. He had a sword, and the men who were better armed and experienced had set themselves to fight her. Quickly, he inventoried where the men and their weapons were. Three were grouped around the tree where she fought, all had swords. One she had felled with a blow to the head but he seemed to be rousing now as she fought the other two. Nearer to Ranulf, the skinny man he had disarmed lay cringing on the forest floor and now was scrambling to raise himself. He had the look of a man who longed to run, and would. No challenge there.

That left two more to come at him. One was nothing but tall bones holding a heavy club, coming toward him from twelve paces away. The other was a bear of a man, and Ranulf could only hope he was as stupid as he looked.

The tall one was too eager and too clumsy, and made it easy to lean left and avoid the club while Ranulf brought his newly won sword up and thrust it in the skinny ribs. He did not wait as the man fell forward, but turned immediately to the wide bear of a man whose only weapons were startlingly massive fists. A quick slice across his knees and he fell to the ground, making it that much easier to drive the dagger deep into his eye.

He turned to where she fought, her back still to the tree. Now there was only one of the villains left on his feet, and with him she fought frantically. He was good, this outlaw. Ranulf could see it at a glance, and that she was tired. Her arm was not so fast, her breathing labored. Still she could win, if only the first outlaw had not recovered from the blow she’d dealt him. Now he was pulling himself to his feet, coming behind her unseen as she fought. She would lose soon.

Now is the moment, he thought, now I can flee. The sword was heavy in his hand. He pulled the dagger she had given him free of flesh and felt the blood run down his hand as he watched her struggling, losing. Now. Run.

The words echoed in his head, but he did not run. He told himself it was a gift from God, this chance to flee, run now run now run run – as he walked toward them unnoticed. He thought it as he watched her mailed fist smash across the face of the outlaw in front of her, and she followed him down to the ground in a heap. He told himself he could still flee now, as the man behind her lifted his sword for a killing blow, eyes fixed on her vulnerable neck bared above the valuable shirt of mail. But still Ranulf kept moving toward her instead of away.