The two thugs continued pulling the screaming girl to their leader as I rushed out of the woods, Swelfalster held two-handed. The two underlings dropped the girl and gave a shout, and the leader began to turn... too late. I swung the blade towards his unprotected neck in a mighty slash, and his helmeted head dropped to the ground.

The two underlings drew daggers, and as I recovered from my backswing, one got close enough to thrust a dirk through my leather tunic. My armor filled with blood. He didn't retreat fast enough, and my sword returned in time to slash his abdomen open, cut his spine. He fell.

The second was more cautious. He danced out of my range, readied his dagger for a throw, bided his moment. My blood continued to drip down the side of my tunic, and I knew I would soon weaken.

At this moment, a party sallied forth from the wagons and yelled a battle cry. My assailant turned his head to this, and I dashed forward and exploited his distraction. A chop to his wrist, and his knife hand was off. One thrust to the heart later, he was down.

The wagon war party begin to charge the remaining brigands, who, leaderless, were routed and taking flight, disappearing into the woods. I looked at the girl I had saved, still lying on the floor where she had been dropped, in a daze. "Looks like it's come out all right," I said to her, then fell over, the blood loss finally taking its toll. The world went dark.

I awoke to the sound of a crackling fire and the feeling of a bandage around my torso and warm sheets around my body. Opening my eye a crack, I saw the stars above. Listening, I heard the sounds of a peaceful camp. I risked opening my eyes further and scanned with my eyes from left to right. On the left, the inside of the circle of wagons, my shadow upon the nearest. On the right, the campfire, and next to it, the girl, golden hair aglow in the firelight, looking directly at me and starting at seeing my eyes move. Caught! But probably safe.

Stolen story; please report.

"Thank you for saving me," she said, then bent towards me to kiss me on the cheek. As she lifted her head I lifted mine and gave her a return cheek-kiss, and the white skin of her cheeks turned beet red.

"Thank you for bandaging me," I said. "It was you, right?"

Her cheeks flushed red once more. She nodded. "I bandaged the wound and used some healing magic, but you lost a lot of blood. You need to drink something." At this she leapt up and raced to the wagon next to us. She rummaged in the wagon a while, looking a bit flummoxed, and returned with a skin which she held to my lips. "Drink."

I drank, took a breath, drank some more. "The wagon master wanted to talk to you. I'll get him," she said as I finished my second drink. I thought fast. I needed more background information before I said anything.

"Throat hurts still," I said, suddenly hoarse. "First, your name?" I asked, and did my best to look interested in her and a little bit infatuated. It wasn't difficult--she was beautiful.

Distraction successful. Her name was Aloree, and she was a diplomat, from the kingdom of Talore. She was traveling to the capital, the Black Citadel, with a delegation from her kingdom, including traders, artisans, and performers, hoping to open ties with the newly emerging power. I wondered at a teenage girl commissioned to diplomacy, but held my tongue, remembering I wasn't supposed to be ready to talk much. She talked more in a musical voice, talking about her day, the attack on the wagons, and how I looked as I ran out of the woods, slashing my sword at the leader. There was a thrill in her voice at this. Finally, she stopped, and looked at me expectantly.

"My things?" I asked, keeping my voice hoarse. She nodded towards the wagon. My mind raced through the usual things one can ask a girl without using too many words, but my time was up. A tall man with a scarred face and jet-black hair stood up on the other side of the wagon circle, motioned to two swordwielding guards, and walked over to us, flanked by them. Darn. Her motion had gotten their attention.

The man towered over me, my body still lying flat in the bed. "First, tell me what you were doing with the brigands," he said with a grim expression.

I quickly saw it from his perspective. Unknown swordsman, shows up during brigand attack, probably a brigand. I was outnumbered three men to one and two swords to zero, still weak from blood loss, and knew my next words, if not chosen carefully, would get my throat slit.