Push in the Right Direction

Ingrid made stroke after flawless stroke. Her connections were smooth and effortless. If not for the fury in the woman's eyes, Silver might have thought she was doing an intricate dance.

'A very deadly dance,' he amended his thoughts. 'I can guess what she has been doing these past years, and it doubt much of it was done in prison.' Ingrid had been formidable before, but now she was practically indomitable.

When the commander ran across Ingrid in prison, he immediately saw her skill. She was strong, smart and talented with a blade. Her anger at the hooded hero only made her a more enticing tool.

The crafty man had almost immediately decided to release her. Striking a deal, Borit was able to keep her close by making her his assistant at the palace. While everyone thought of the curt but pretty woman as a glorified secretary, Borit knew better.

Ingrid was his cleaner doing Borit's dirty work whenever needed. In return the woman received additional training and the promise of Silver's head as a reward if she cooperated. Her commitment to defeating the cloaked man had led to hours of daily practice in private. As a result, her level of ability was nearly unmatched.

That is why when Ingrid came to visit the injured Commander in the infirmary, he had sent her to the wall to wait. The clever woman had selected the spot she herself would use as an exit. Her hunch had been correct.

When she saw the shadow come over the battlement at first light, her rage was ignited. But she would bide her time for the moment. Rather than share her victory with the palace guards, Ingrid had followed Silver to the woods for a direct confrontation. Ingrid wanted the fight to be hers and hers alone.

The onslaught of Ingrid's sword was nearly too much for Silver. He knew how to fight, but he was not a soldier. Ingrid's movements were delicate and planned, while the Guardian's style was more rugged and staccato. His only advantage was the ability to anticipate her movement.

Ingrid's piercing blue eyes were filled with fury. They shifted a fraction of a second before each of her strikes, giving Silver barely enough time to dodge or deflect her blows.

"I don't want to hurt you," the man tried to reason with her as he ducked below a slash that would have ripped open his chest.

"You don't?" Ingrid paused, and the fire in her eyes died a little. Yet it was quickly rekindled two-fold. "That makes one of us," she growled as she hefted her sword and came down on the man with a lunge from her blade.

"You are a thief and a conwoman, Ingrid, but I never thought you were a murderer," Silver slipped in the words as her sword caught on the hilt of his own blade. The ring of metal punctuated his plea.

"It just goes to show how little you know me!" Ingrid kicked at the man's stomach, barely missing her goal, which had been slightly lower. They separated.

Having managed to protect himself from losing his manhood, Silver cried out in indignation. "Fine, if you are going to play dirty..." he picked up a clod of dirt and chunked it at the angry lady.

Ingrid blocked the spray with her arm. When she was able to see once more, Silver was already on top of his horse. No longer caring for the safety of the steed, Ingrid sliced through the air at the rider. The Guardian reared back and took off.

Silver was already trotting away as he spoke over his shoulder. "A wise lady once told me: Hate will eat you if you let it. Try to snack on some happiness instead."

"I'm going to kill you, Silver!" Ingrid yelled, chasing after the horse and rider.

"Not today!" The Guardian turned in his saddle. He had stowed his sword and pulled another item from his cloak. He threw a cord with balls at either end, expertly aiming them to wrap around the woman's ankles.

Ingrid tripped and fell to the ground. Silver slowed his horse slightly and waved in a friendly manner.

"You know where to find me, though I don't recommend you come. Things tend to happen to those who enter Rynnlee to do me harm."

Digging his heels into the steed, the cloaked figure rode off among the trees. Ingrid screamed her indignation at the Guardian, calling him a coward among other more colorful words. Yet, Silver had already forgotten the vindictive bandit even as her heckling faded.

'Time to go home,' he thought with a bittersweet sigh. To one side, his senses told him that the king's watch was nearing the screaming woman. Soon they would be pursuing him in earnest. Daisy sensed the change as well and quickened her pace. They raced through the trees and out into the more open countryside.

As the morning wore on, Silver finally allowed the pace of his horse to slacken. He had lost precious time in the tower overnight, yet he had promised to be back in Rynnlee by the following day. He didn't want to think of what might happen if he missed the deadline.

The silver-eyed man also needed to be sure that he had not been followed. With Ingrid's help, the soldiers should have had a decent chance of catching sight of him. He had been very lucky in that regard.

After checking behind him every so often, Silver was finally convinced there would be no pursuit. He reined in his horse gently and slowed to a steady saunter. The day was bright and beautiful, and his mind was finally able to wander as he thought over the events of the night before.

"Are you angry with me?" a bright voice beside him asked. Used to the Fate's sudden appearances, the Guardian stared steadily forward.

This time Hanna had materialized in her glorified form astride a beautiful white mare that was almost as breathtaking as her rider. And Silver might have been imagining it, but it almost seemed like the creature had an invisible horn upon its glorious head. The horses quickly matched stride and marched onward.

"For what?" Silver said in response to her question. "For not telling me that my sister is the Princess of Birle or for shoving me off the wall in hopes I would discover it for myself?"

"Both, I suppose," the Fate responded carelessly. Silver sensed there was a genuine worry behind her flippancy. After Hanna had separated the siblings, Silver had been angry at her for years. He knew Hanna cared deeply, even if she didn't always show it.

"No, I am not angry," the Guardian sighed. "I should be though. You could've killed me."

"It's not my fault that you are oblivious. I promised you I'd let you see her again, and you nearly missed your chance. I was doing you a favor." Hanna smiled at him. Silver tossed back his hood to throw her a withering gaze, which only made the Fate laugh. The sound of tinkling bells filled the air. "Your hood may hide you from everyone else, but I can see through it just fine. The Fates made it, you know." She reminded him. Silver pulled his hood up and repeated the angry scowl at her once more. "Much better," she nodded approvingly.

"You could have just told me the princess was my sister. There wasn't the need for those kind of theatrics." Silver grumbled.

"Do not question my methods, young Guardian." Hanna raised her nose in the air defiantly. "If I had told you it directly, would you have believed me?"

Silver thought for a moment. He was pretty stubborn, but the Guardian liked to think that he would know the truth when he saw it. However, If Hanna had suggested it instead of him coming to the conclusion on his own, he might have doubted his own senses. "I don't know," he answered at last.

"You have to learn things your own way, Silver, much like another Guardian I used to know." Her mind was gone for a moment as her gaze became far off. It returned suddenly along with her cherubic grin. "I am just glad you managed to figure it out. I knew you were clever."

By the tone of her voice, Silver wasn't sure if the Fate was complimenting or insulting him. "Thank you, I think..."

"You are welcome, my dear, of course. I am always happy to help give you a push in the right direction."

Hood or not, Hanna didn't need to look at the man this time to know he was scowling.