Silver sped through the forest with inhuman speed. Stealth was not his goal presently, and he did not care one bit if he was seen. While the soldiers had chased after Ingrid, the Guardian did not want to simply trust that they would be able to complete the job of capturing her. He had seen the vicious gleam in the criminal's eyes. Her instincts were good, and her decision to run instead of fight meant that she valued her life over her pride.

'I am not going to let you get away. You are far too clever, and a clever criminal is dangerous.' In truth, Silver was enjoying the chase. It had been some time since a brigand had escaped his net, and he felt like a hound fixated on the fox's scent.

The Guardian could see evidence of Ingrid's mad dash as well as horse's hooves, and soon he came upon a spot where two figures were locked in combat. Somehow Ingrid had managed to unseat the sergeant from his horse, and now the pair were engaged in a sword-on-knife dual on the ground of a small clearing. Due to the close quarters, the sergeant found it difficult to wield his weapon properly. Silver could see he was losing ground to his smaller and more agile opponent. Ingrid took a few quick jabs and tore the sleeve of her opponent's uniform, but did not seem to break the skin.

Out of reflex, the soldier shoved the woman into the tree, and her head slammed against it. The woman pouted and tears welled in her eyes. "Oh!" she cried, falling toward the ground. The action caused the sergeant to lower his guard and bend over her with a look at her with concern. His gentlemanly care was what Ingrid was counting on.

She grabbed a clod of wet dirt and flung it in the soldier's eyes. Reeling back, the sergeant lost sight of his target for a moment. Ingrid leapt at the chance, hitting her knife at the base of the sword and knocking it from the man's hands. She only barely missed the soldier's fingers.

The Guardian had arrived just in time. 'Time to act before things turn deadly.'

Silver somersaulted along the ground and came up directly behind Ingrid. The woman who stood menacingly over the sergeant, was about to strike. The Guardian silently jumped to grab a low hanging branch and swung his legs to kick Ingrid in the back. The kick stunned Ingrid, knocking her off to one side and saving the sergeant from her wrath. For a moment Silver was afraid that Ingrid would land on her knife, but her reflexes were too quick, and the woman moved the weapon clear as she face-planted in the dirt.

The soldier rolled to one side away from the woman. He moved just in time to escape the wild stabbing at the ground beside her. Regaining his sword, the sergeant aimed it squarely at Ingrid's jaw as she struggled to get up. The woman's face was streaked with mud, but her scowl of contempt was still visible. She tightly gripped the knife in her hand, but this time it was raised in the air to signal her surrender.

"Drop the knife," the Guardian ordered. In a flash, Ingrid tossed the weapon as far from herself as she could. It ricocheted off the trees and made a soft thump into the ground. The sergeant traced the weapon's arc, but Silver was familiar with the tactic. As soon as the soldier's eyes were off of Ingrid, she ran once again.

Slipping quickly through the trees, the boss didn't get far. With blinding speed, Silver came around and cornered her. Ingrid pulled a hidden knife from her boot and aimed it at the man whose face she could not see. A cry of frustration escaped her lips. If not for the Guardian having used that move himself, he would not have seen it coming. As it was, Ingrid had planned her escape well enough that only his heightened abilities allowed him to react fast enough.

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"She's a clever one, isn't she?" Silver asked the sergeant, who nodded.

"Oh yes, I've a vast amount of respect for her. She nearly took off my head with that knife of hers. Thank you for the assist." The sergeant's voice was neutral. He was neither sarcastic nor self-depreciating, merely stating fact.

Silver's sword was also aimed towards Ingrid's chin as he watched her darting eyes. He could see her more clearly now that the danger was past. She was within a few years of him, possibly 30. The boss was strong and obviously skilled with a knife. Her face was fair and her dark hair was tied back in a braid. Her hazel eyes held only anger and bitterness. The Guardian felt a pang of sadness for her. 'Hate will eat you if you let it,' The words of Hanna came back to him.

"Give me your weapon," the sergeant said. He had no desire to have to chase down another blade.

Ingrid gave a mirthless grin. "No, I want to die with a weapon in hand," she responded defiantly.

"Do you plan to die today?" Silver inquired.

"I would rather die than go off to prison," Ingrid spat.

"That can be arranged, I suppose, but I was hoping you might join our band of 'law abiding' townsfolk when you were released." Silver shot a glance at the sergeant, but noted with satisfaction that he hadn't reacted.

"Join you? Ha! I am my own boss. No one controls me." She lowered the knife to her side and aimed it into her stomach. If things continued as they were, Ingrid would do something drastic. The Guardian gave a subtle nod to the sergeant who inclined his head in response.

"The offer stands if you ever…" both men dropped their swords and lunged at Ingrid. She was caught off guard. Silver wrested the knife from Ingrid's hand as the trio went sprawling across the ground. Each man secured an arm and held her in place as they caught their breath.

"Let me go!" Ingrid screamed as she violently kicked at the air. "You will pay for this indignation. You should have let me die!"

The two men stared at one another but said nothing as they held her firmly in place. After a moment, Ingrid's protests died down and they lifted her off the ground. Silver produced even more of the leather bracelets and secured Ingrid's wrists. The sergeant gave him a quizzical look. "Haven't seen those before." He said with a hint of interest.

"Keep them. I have quite a few."

"Oh? Do you make them in your spare time?" the sergeant grinned. When the Guardian only grunted, the soldier realized that he might actually do just that.

The three began the slow walk back to the river bank. Ingrid was less than cooperative, even falling a few times just to delay them. However, the damsel in distress act did her no good, and after a while the Guardian flung her over his shoulder to carry her like a sack of potatoes.

Silver cleared his throat awkwardly. He normally enjoyed silence, but just now it felt uncomfortable even for him. "So I guess you got the message that these bandits were out here."

The soldier nodded. "One of the townsfolk flagged us down while we were on patrol. Said it was urgent, so we came right away. Looks like we came just in time the way those ladies were hassling you."

Silver reached his hand behind his head and chuckled. "You saw that? Ah well, those of the fairer gender have always been a weak spot of mine." Ingrid grunted and spat at him, which only widened his grin. "This lady is so delightfully charming too."

"When I get free, I will cut you-" the woman's threat was cut off as the Guardian bounced up and down with her over his shoulder.

"Excuse me, my lady," her captor joked. Ingrid grunted and slammed her bound fists into his back. "If you keep that up, I have other ways to transport you that are far less desirable," the Guardian warned.

Not wanting to discover what the mysterious man was capable of, Ingrid stopped her pounding. The soldier made some clicking noises with his tongue every so often as he walked. Scanning the trees as they walked, Silver recognized the familiar call. "What happened to your horse?" he asked.

The sergeant shrugged. "The lady sprang out and caused my hardened war horse to rear back and buck me. After that, well, things got a little dicey…"

"Yes, I saw the way she was hassling you." Silver returned the soldier's quip.

"As you said, she is very charming." The soldier rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks again for the assistance. The name's Rabert by the way. And you are?" he looked expectantly at Silver.

The Guardian held up his hand and the party stopped. "Shh," he whispered. Something was off.