Rain slid down the length of her bow as she pulled the arrow back. From her vantage point on a slight ridge, she could see the boulders and creek.

Cloaked by the tangled greenery, Valerlanta stood beside a tree with careful, measured, movements. As long as she moved slow, she knew her earth tones amongst the dense trees and brush made her all but invisible on this small hill.

There were six soldiers looting the bodies of people who dressed as peasants. Oddly, those peasants were armed with weapons for soldiers. The bodies were bloody, some of which had wounds in the back from trying to run. Out of all those deaths, only one body was from the king's army.

While the peasants lay in the mud of the creek, the armoured knight was hoisted on a stretcher covered with someone's cloak. A sign of respect, while for the others they gave none.

Valerlanta wanted to think something like how typical that was for their kind, but knew she was not any more honorable.

“Hurry and finish. They will be here any moment,” one of the soldiers said as he and another hoisted the stretcher. The two disappeared from the clearing, and Valerlanta narrowed her gaze on her targets.

The soldiers that remained overturned boots, patted down clothes, and out-turned pockets. They found coins and other valuable goods but left them scattered on the ground.

What was happening? Why were they even here?

To get to this spot, the so-called peasants and these soldiers would have passed the trees carved and painted with the branded hand. There was no missing them — a bright red in greying woods — so they knew exactly what they were walking into.

They were trespassing, and for what?

One of them grabbed the satchel of a man with an arrow in his head, but before he could open the clasp, her own arrow flew. She did not wait to see if it hit true, just knew that it would.

Valerlanta swept behind the cover of the tree and took careful, steady, breaths.

Over the rain, she did not hear the body fall, but shouts sounded out as the others took notice.

Her eyes fluttered closed.

'Calm.'

Calm her heart rate, calm her breath, calm her mind.

By the time she turned the tree again, her heartbeat slowed to leisurely thumps, as if she were on a simple stroll.

She released another arrow. It hit the man in the throat and he fell beside the other.

One of the last two remaining locked eyes with her.

The hiding game was over.

Next play, then.

She acted before they could gather their wits.

The man raised his hand to alert his last companion. Her arrow took him in the leg. He shrieked and fell hard into the creek.

‘Blast,’ a near miss.

She reached for another arrow.

The final moving one dove for cover behind a boulder. As he leaped for safety, her arrow struck him. This one hit true, and the man fell still.

‘Three out of four, not bad,’ she thought to herself. ‘But not good enough.’

Now only the injured one still moved. He scooched backward into the creek and swung a sword wildly between them. Fear tumbled violently in his eyes, and his chin trembled.

She could not help but wonder what he saw. Was the cloaked woman in a mask monster-like to him?

“Wait! Please! Wait! Do not kill me!” He begged. “I am worth more to you alive! My family, they—”

“You are worth nothing to me, alive or dead,” she interrupted, her voice cold. “It is just that your death is far more convenient.”

Her arrow hit him in the face, and he too fell back. His body landed amongst the people they slaughtered.

By then the rain roared against the leaves. It moistened the earth and helped to rinse the blood from the surroundings.

She had to be swift to keep from ruining her bow. Already, she could feel a damp chill on her feet and back. Soon she and her bow would be soaked through-and-through.

The horses on the edge of the clearing stared at her cautiously, but when she ignored them, they returned the favor. They tugged at their reigns every now then, but they remained quiet witnesses to her presence.

The soldiers she killed finished most of her job for her, so she pocketed money pouches, jewelry, and weapons. Finally, all that remained was the satchel the man never had a chance to open.

Like a wild animal with a kill, she eagerly dragged the satchel into the shadows of a bush and flung it open.

Reaching in, her fingers — though used to identifying things in the dark — found something even they did not recognize. She withdrew a round object wrapped in cloth...a cloth that turned out to be someone's tunic.

Brows pinched in confusion, Valerlanta unwrapped it. From under the tunic came a brass circular object with four bands of writing of some kind. When her finger touched one of the bands, it spun with clicking noises. Startled, she nearly dropped the orb.

A perplexed smile crept onto her face.

What was this? A puzzle? She certainly hoped so.

One of the horses lifted its head, and another did the same. Valerlanta stiffened, eyeing the creatures through her leafy coverage.

They pointed their ears in the same direction.

Valerlanta crept from her bush further into the woods as more soldiers entered the clearing. This time, far too many for her to handle on her own.

Time to go.

She moved at a crouch, her steps silent on the soggy greying moss.

The soldiers spread out in a search formation, and started through the brush. They moved in the direction she had shot from, but Valerlanta was not that way. The thief did not consider herself intelligent, but even she was not that dumb.

She stalked upstream.

Their shouts faded behind her.

As she felt safe to stand and turn, she did so, and a man and woman waited there. Both wore equally annoyed expressions and appeared particularly miserable in their rain-soaked clothes.

“Gudwen! Opaklen!” Valerlanta whispered, smiling innocently. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Opaklen, a tall and thin man, was her father's close friend and advisor. If her father sent him, that meant she was in serious trouble.

Gudwen, a middle-aged and well-muscled woman, could locate absolutely everything in these woods. She could find rare flowers and rarer animals, and, it would seem she could also find Valerlanta.

Their glares told Valerlanta what she needed to know. She wouldn't be talking her way out of this one.

Gudwen sent a cautious look behind Valerlanta, searching for any followers. When she saw none, she grabbed Valerlanta by her dripping hood and dragged the younger girl along.

“I was planning on going back myself,” she whispered.

“Shh,” the woman lectured. Noise could carry in the forest and in unpredictable ways, and Valerlanta knew that.

Still, could she help herself?

No, she could not.

“This really is not necessary,” she said as she stumbled to keep up with the brisk pace of the woman pulling her along. Valerlanta did not try to fight the grip. She wouldn't dare do that. Rumors said Gudwen could take on a bear with nothing but a knife, and you did not anger people like that.

“Shut your trap,” Opaklen said and received another harsh “shh” from the woman that he winced at.

Valerlanta shrugged with sympathy at him, but he only glared.

Valerlanta did not have to see into the future to know this was going to be a long and awkward trip back.