“She was taken?” the dark-haired knight asked, eyes wide with the apparent shock of discovering this.

Upon reaching them, Hans had recognized Dija immediately and halted their advance. At first he had thought she and Sakura were prisoners, until Dija explained the situation. As soon as he had allowed—to Dija’s apparent rankling—she sent Mika off to stop the group that was currently fleeing back down the mountain.

“That is what I said,” Dija drawled, not looking at him.

“Then we must move quickly. We may be able to catch them before they escape.”

“Don’t bother,” Dija said. “You’ll never catch them wearing all that. But I may be able to.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Surely she doesn’t blame herself, Sakura thought. There was nothing Dija could do to stop them.

“Then why aren’t you after them now? Why do you linger?”

“And do what,” she hissed, “get punched in the mouth again? Follow them now, follow them soon, it makes no difference.”

“How is that?”

“No time to talk,” Sakura interrupted. “Right now your captain and our ally are in combat, are they not?”

Hans looked disconcerted. “Indeed,” he said. “He barked at his men to head back up the hill and stop the confrontation. They moved gracefully for men in plate, but were incredibly slow.

Feeling fearful for Lawrence’s life and frustrated at this massive misunderstanding with the envoy’s retinue, she hiked up the hem of her kimono and ran up the hillside as fast as her legs could carry her, which was much faster than those knights, and besides, dancers had strong legs!

Faster, she chided herself. She wasn’t going to let Lawrence get killed. Especially not from the blade of one of their own allies.

So stupid.