Strong arms pin me to the ground before I can muster any resistance against the sudden ambush. An instinctive cry for help begins building in my throat, but before I have the chance to make myself heard, a leather gloved hand clamps itself securely across my face and proceeds to stub out any noise that I might've been planning to make. An unpleasant pressure starts to gather at my neck, as if my attacker is preparing to snap it at a moment's notice.

"Be quiet." a woman's voice whispers in my ear, "Can you do that?"

I frantically nod. Of course I can keep my mouth shut. Anything to stay breathing.

"Fine." the woman responds softly and the pressure pinning me to the ground eases. But as I begin to pick myself off the dirt, the woman abruptly pushes me back down again.

"Convoy is almost here." she mutters, "Stay low."

"Knock it off. Yes, I am aware that trouble is coming down the road." I grumble back, surging my own magic to shake the woman's arms off me, "I know what I'm doing."

The woman is about to rebut before deciding to restrain herself from commenting any further. I rise into a low crouch before settling my back against one of the trees, neatly concealing myself from anyone that would be riding past the woman and I. Turning the Eyes of Ea about, my vision cone falls squarely on a figure dressed in dark clothes, with a leather battle jacket for protection. As she settles on her haunches looking squarely at me, I realize with some annoyance that I can't read her expression in return thanks to the black lace veil over the woman's face.

Not that she's probably much of a woman thanks to how flat her chest is. If it wasn't for the voice, I could have easily taken my ambusher for a man. Deeper in the darkness, Loaner lets out a low snicker which elicits what I assume is an annoyed glare from my unexpected companion as she turns about. Loaner immediately gets the message and clams up, retreating further into the gloom. The noise from the road grows, a a cacophony of pounding hooves and rattling carriages. Both the woman and I wince as our bodies are slashed by rapacious winds, the source of the artificial gale almost upon us.

The woman turns her attention to the road, drawing the long metal rod fastened to her belt. A quick glance tells me that this is a battle mage's wand, but the woman has one more surprise in store. Her hand grabs the end of the rod and delivers a hard twist. There's a soft click and a short blade blossoms from the tip of the wand, turning it into a short spear.

"Nice trick." I comment, scanning the road with the Eyes of Ea.

The woman was right, the source of the gale is a convoy, packed with horses marching at a ferocious pace. Behind the horses are the carriages, hauling massive siege guns. The gale itself blooms to life around the procession, driving the entire group forward relentlessly. Even the wheels of the carriages don't have time to properly grip the road, causing long gashes to be torn into the packed earth.

"I like to be professional." the woman remarks, "Unlike a certain someone."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I hiss back, taking offence at this unwarranted insult.

The woman merely shushes me and continues her vigil of the road. As the convoy rapidly approaches, my initial estimation of the spell empowering them is confirmed. There are three magic knights casting the spell simultaneously. And what's more, I even recognize two of them.

Henrik leads the convoy, the cold features of his face illuminated by the torches raised aloft by the men riding behind him. His iron wand is pointed forward, directing the flow of the wind as well as the convoy itself. Christina, that worthless traitor, rides beside him with her own wand extended and an earnest look on her face. More lies of course, Christina didn't hesitate to try and kill me in Deshawn City. Attempted murder of your instructor, that's ice cold.

Yes, I'm still feeling upset about being run out of my job, career and home.

On the other side of Henrik is someone I don't recognize though. A young lady with auburn hair tied in a bun, older than Christina, so probably a full magic knight. And from the color and design of her robes, she's not from House Robeur.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Royal mage knight." the woman curses beside me, "Things have escalated more quickly than I expected."

"She's a healer." I remark, recognizing the patterns on the lady's robes, "And the other two are battle mages. Plenty of gendarme support too."

"I left Robeur Keep while the convoy was still being prepped." the woman replies, "The healer hadn't joined them yet."

"Wait, you came from Robeur Keep?" I say, not expecting this turn of events.

"Yeah." the woman nods slowly at me, "And I'm not with the convoy, if that's what you're hinting at."

Both of us hush up as the wind dies down and the convoy comes to a stop in front of the House Guard waiting at the entrance of Southmarsh town. Henrik, sandwiched by the pair Christina and the healer, greets the welcoming committee from atop his mount, towering over the militiamen. Several envious glances from the House Guard are cast at Henrik, thanks to him being flanked by a pair of hot women, their glumness not helped by Henrik literally talking down at them from his horse.

"He's still hasn't learned how to deal with people." my mystery companion comments as both of us listen in to the banal exchange going on between both sides, "A genius in so many ways, but lacking in some."

"Those guys have no need to get jel about Henrik anyway." I snigger quietly.

"Why's that?" the woman asks, her interest piqued.

"Henrik's homo." I chortle lightly.

"Uh huh." the woman says slowly, dragging her voice out, "And you're sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure." I declare confidently, "Look at Henrik. He has HOMO written right across his forehead. I've not seen a man that's as much of a homo than him."

"Uh huh." the woman sighs, a long suffering sound, "You're not just unprofessional, you're also criminally unobservant. I guess that blindfold over your eyes isn't just for show."

"I am professional." I dispute in a heated whisper, "Super professional. And that's big talk coming from someone who wears a veil. Can you even see out of it?"

"Far better than you can apparently." the woman snorts as the House Guard form up with the convoy and they begin to march into town.

I keep the Eyes of Ea on Henrik since he's obviously the most important person in the entire group. Christina reaches out to pull at Henrik's sleeve and he murmurs a few unintelligible words to her. Most of his attention is directed at the healer though, as he attempts to engage her in conversation. From what my ears can catch, its boring small talk, the sort you make on the road while travelling. The healer seems to be bored as well, maintaining a polite smile on her face but her blank expression reveals her complete lack of interest in Henrik's babbling.

The healer idly turns her head about, taking in the surroundings as Henrik prattles on before her cheeks abruptly flush. Whatever words Henrik's pouring into her ears causes the Healer's expression to gradually morph from empty politeness to a surprisingly coy look. Encouraged, Henrik rides slightly closer to the Healer, leaving Christina looking distinctly like a third wheel.

The Healer begins to remove the pins holding her bun of hair in place, letting the slightly curly locks flow down freely. She then begins actually playing with her hair, letting it rest on one shoulder, all the while casting shy glances at Henrik. She fidgets with her wand, clasping it against her chest, right over the heart. Very romantic scene. Of course, that's all useless, since Henrik is a -

Hold up.

The healer is not glancing at Henrik. She's looking past him. Right in the direction of the hiding spot.

"Down!" I hiss, pulling the mystery woman back into the foliage. My companion has the presence of mind not to make a sound, but my unease merely increases. The Healer chews her lip and keeps glancing at the hiding spot. But she doesn't raise the alarm.

"What?" an annoyed sound comes from the woman.

"You've been spotted." I explain, "But you're lucky the one doing the spotting has a thing for women."

"How can you even know that?" the mystery woman shoots back.

"That royal knight kept looking in our direction." I elaborate, "And my body is completely hidden behind a tree. So that leaves you."

"Huh." my companion grunts, her hackles rising. But the convoy makes its way into town without any further incident. I release the breath I had been holding, all the tension escaping at once.

"Too close." I mutter, slumping in relief, "Why did you attack me earlier anyway?"

"Because you stormed into my hiding spot?" the woman grumbles, "What was I supposed to do?"

"Fair point." I allow. No harm and no foul. So I can't really make any complaints.

"I've got questions of my own as well." the woman presses, "What are you doing out here instead of protecting Ramon?"

"How did you know about Ramon?" this time my spine shoots up straight, my attention fully focused on the woman.

"Answer the question, Nair." the woman urges.

"And how do you know my name?" I flatly keep up my own interrogation, ignoring my companion's annoyance.

"I said I came from Robeur Keep, didn't I?" the woman huffs.

"So? I don't believe we've ever met." I point out.

"We didn't need to." the woman's voice cracks into laughter, "You're famous Nair. Everyone knows about you back in Robeur Keep."

"Really?" I tilt my head in disbelief, "That's hard to believe."

"Believe it." the woman quips, "You're really one of a kind."

Finally, I've been recognized. Its been a long time coming, literally after my career with House Robeur went belly up, but I still manage to bask in some degree of satisfaction.

"A one of a kind sword master who wears a dress in public." my companion sniggers.