"Evan Wang. A wandering adventurer." Evan gave it a moment's thought before answering. In this world's custom, one gave one's real name — and Nicholas Andrew's was a name he had no intention of using again. As for the title of wandering adventurer, the concept had drifted over from the distant East; the Western lands had no native tradition for it, only thieves, and thieves carried connotations of darker work. An adventurer suggested something more principled, at least in theory.
"An adventurer. And this is Becky, my personal maidservant." Franklin's tone carried the faint elevation of someone accustomed to being the most important person in the room, though he kept it well-contained. Evan noted it without comment. They were strangers who happened to share a fire, and how the boy thought of himself was his own business.
"Please, sit." Evan gestured at the ground across the fire.
Franklin sat. Becky remained standing behind him. Evan understood after a moment — rank, and the distance it required. He had no particular feeling about it either way, though he noticed that by this world's conventions an adventurer was a commoner, and commoners were supposed to rise and make a formal greeting to a baron's son. He hadn't. Franklin's expression shifted briefly before he smoothed it over.
"You're alone in the Liya Demon Forest? No companions? You must be formidable, sir."
"I've gotten used to traveling alone. A wilderness sort of person — no manners to speak of. You'll have to forgive me." Evan said it easily, his attention already half-elsewhere, drawn toward the darkness beyond the treeline.
Franklin started to say something more. Then a signal arrow punched out of the dark — not aimed at anyone, purely an announcement — and buried itself in the ground at the center of the camp with a sharp whistling note.
"Ambush!" someone shouted. In the space of a breath, everyone had closed around Franklin with weapons drawn. The movement was coordinated and fast. Whatever else he was, Franklin wasn't the kind of lord whose men ignored him under pressure.
Evan didn't move. He opened his infrared sight and read the treeline. They were surrounded — a ring of figures, heat signatures steady in the cooling evening air. At the front, someone sat on a horse. No — not a horse. The head carried a horn. Not a unicorn either. A nightmare, coat black as char, something like dark fire moving beneath the surface.
He shifted his focus and caught a figure in the branches of a tree at the edge of the light. Female. Bow in hand. Ears with a slight point to them — half-elf, he thought, though the distance made it hard to be certain. Long-legged, well-proportioned. She was watching him, and she had noticed that he was watching her. Surprise registered in her expression. From where she sat in the tree, she shouldn't have been visible.
Franklin's guards had closed into a tight circle around their lord. Franklin himself showed no panic. "Who are you? What is the meaning of this?"
The nightmare stepped forward out of the dark. Its rider wore a travel-worn cloak and a patch over one eye. When he spoke his voice was unhurried. "The name's Robin. You've come into my territory, Franklin Edmund. Put down your weapons."
The riders behind him said nothing. Their drawn swords said enough.
Franklin went pale. "Robin — the Robin? The outlaw Robin? You're supposed to be in Ingi Forest. What are you doing in the Liya Demon Forest?"
By reputation, Robin had been a knight in service to the Duchy of Taemir before a falling-out with the Grand Duke had sent him outside the law. He had established himself in the Ingi Forest on the border between Taemir and the Duchy of Purei, using the tensions between the two states to slip across whichever border the pursuit wasn't watching. Taemir had tried to root him out multiple times. It had never worked. But Ingi Forest was over a thousand li from the Liya Demon Forest. His presence here made no sense.
"Since you know my name," Robin said, "you know that putting down your weapons is the sensible thing to do."
"You're a bandit operating far from home. Don't expect us to be frightened." Franklin laughed sharply and leveled his sword at Robin.
A bowstring sang. Franklin's sword hand took an arrow through the wrist. He gasped, and the blade fell.
Evan exhaled quietly. Youth. The boy wasn't without quality, but he hadn't lived enough yet.
Evan thought this without noting that he himself was eighteen and hadn't lived much more. He simply felt older, in the way that a body carrying someone else's memories always does.
"My lord!" Becky cried out, her staff already appearing in her hands, incantation beginning.
Raymond moved immediately, putting himself between Franklin and the darkness, eyes sweeping the treeline. He hadn't spotted the half-elf.
Before Becky could finish her words, an old man on horseback behind Robin raised his own staff and aimed it at her. "Girl. You're a Magic Apprentice. Don't." He said two words in a flat voice and Becky's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Evan assessed him as he cast — sixth-level mage, genuine elemental attunement. That was likely his ceiling, but it was enough for this.
Franklin's guards hadn't expected a mage in Robin's company. They looked at each other and tightened their circle without advancing. Taking stock: Raymond as a Low-rank Knight, the rest village militia, Franklin himself technically a knight by inheritance rather than demonstrated ability, and Becky — a village girl with magical talent whom Baron Edmund had been developing since she was young. Against Robin's people, that wasn't enough.
Robin let the silence do its work, then let his expression harden. "Weapons. Down."
The soldiers' grips wavered. Raymond shouted, "Don't listen to him! You'll have to go through me first!"
Robin clicked his tongue and made a gesture. From the darkness behind Franklin's group came riders — crossbows leveled, arrowheads catching the firelight, faces composed and cold.
Franklin looked at the crossbows, then at Raymond. "Stand down, Raymond. Robin — you've won. What happens to us now?"
Evan watched the boy with something that surprised him. That was well done.
"I won't kill you," Robin said. "I want the ransom, not the blood. Cooperate, and you'll be released the moment it arrives."
The soldiers laid down their weapons. Raymond did the same, tight-jawed. In the confusion of defending their lord, Franklin's guards had entirely forgotten about Evan, and Evan had said nothing. He stood where he was. Only now, with the situation settled, did Robin seem to remember he existed.
"You don't appear to be with them."
"I'm not. I met them about two minutes before you arrived. Evan Wang. Wandering adventurer."
"Adventurer." Robin seemed to taste the word. "Regardless, you'll have to come with us."
"Why?"
"Because we've just taken Baron Edmund's son, and you happened to be sitting there watching it happen. I can't have you carrying word of this. Inconvenient as it is."
"And if I decline?"
"Then we kill you." Robin's tone didn't shift. The pleasantness was simply gone from it.
"Eleven of you," Evan said, just as conversationally. "You think that's enough?"
Robin's eyes narrowed. He had ten visible men and one half-elf archer hidden in the dark. Evan had just named the number correctly. Evan turned the sword-cane over in his hand and looked at Robin with mild interest.
The half-elf didn't wait for instruction. A bowstring snapped, and an arrow came for his throat.
Evan was already moving — the cane came up and deflected the shot with a sharp crack, the impact traveling up through the shaft into his hand. He gauged her as it landed: magical archer, fourth or fifth level. He let his irritation stay off his face, brought the cane around, spoke a few words in rapid fragments, and threw a fireball into the tree. He used the incantation for appearances — the actual casting came from the magical array in his bracer, driven by spiritual force — but he didn't want anyone reading his methods clearly.
The half-elf threw herself sideways out of the tree before the fireball arrived. The tree caught. She landed with another arrow already nocked.
"Cecilia — stand down!" Robin called.
The arrow disappeared. Evan held his position, the fireball's light still dying in the burning tree. Two people in Robin's party were watching Evan with new attention — Becky, her eyes wide; and the old mage, whose expression had gone thoughtful. The old man hadn't worked out the bracer, but he'd registered the power level. Definitely mage-tier.
Robin signaled his crossbowmen to lower their weapons. Then he offered Evan a proper knight's salute. "Sir, if you have no pressing reason to be elsewhere — would you care to visit our camp?"
The shift in register was so complete that Evan almost smiled. Franklin's people were watching, Becky included, with an expression of barely suppressed hope.
He hesitated, then nodded.
Robin turned to the soldiers. "Pass a message to your master: have thirty thousand gold coins ready for the ransom." Then to the rest: "The rest of you — go. I only need Franklin."
Two voices spoke at the same moment.
"I'm not leaving." Becky and Raymond, without coordination, in the same breath.