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As a huge body careened out of the field and barreled into me, knocking me down.
I cried out and my bow went flying off my shoulder, into the grass, out of my reach.
I slithered from his grip, using my smaller frame to get away and back onto my feet, grabbing a spilled arrow from the ground.
The man had jarring yellow teeth and a sneer as he bared them to me. His hand went toward his sword. “You’re coming with us, gi—gahk.”
A metallic clank as a crossbow bolt pierced through his throat and stuck out the other side, dripping blood down his chest.
He stared down, confused, and toppled forward.
Far behind him, Uncle Gregory dropped the crossbow and ran toward me, drawing his sword. “Get your hands off my niece, you fucking fiends!” His voice bellowed across the field, carrying into the sky.
Wait—these aren’t his men, then?!
The other three cloaked soldiers appeared in the clearing, drawing their weapons when they spotted their dead comrade at my feet.
They looked up, encircled me.
I backed away, then remembered the scared look on that boy’s face as one of these men slashed his throat.
I roared like a banshee and clutched the arrow in my small fist.
One of the men rushed me.
Spinning away, I slammed the arrow into the man’s thigh. He groaned in pain and limped to one knee.
The other two lunged.
I narrowly avoided the first slice, meant to behead me, and ducked under the second, as my pulse quickened and the rest of the world seemed to fall away.
I was going to die here. There was no way I could take on three armed, grown men—soldiers, no less—even if one of them was wounded and limping.
The grass rattled and shook behind the men, and their attention was diverted for a breath.
I took the chance to back up, realigning my stance.
“Flee, sister!” Robert screamed in my head. “You cannot kill them all!”
I’d never killed a man in my life. Robert knew best: I couldn’t kill them all, much less one of them.
But I was tired of fleeing and giving up. These bastards had encroached on my land and killed one of my workers.
“You still must find Father and Mother!” Robert reminded me.
I hesitated—
Just long enough for the men to charge at me again, two of them at once this time.
I gasped, ducking, spinning, dodging, but my forearm split with agony. I pulled my bleeding arm back, inspecting the slice, studying their sneers and smirks—
A shadowy blur burst into the clearing, greatsword drawn in both hands.
Uncle Gregory roared like a man possessed, swinging his blade, keeping the men at bay.
They lost interest in me once they saw the greater threat: my fiery uncle in the glory of battle-lust.
“Run, Robin!” His eyes were redder than ever. He swung his sword in sweeping arcs to keep the men far. His body shielded mine, the armor he always wore clanking and creaking with every movement.
