Feivel waited for the right moment as the town dwindled from sight. Lina had said his whistle would be in the lead mare's packs. That left a lot of pockets to search in the midst of a fight. There were fifteen guards. "The smallest possible force" his ass. They were going to get slaughtered.

Marley at least was doing her job of harassing the guards. "It's just that they're so tight," she complained. "Can't you loosen my ropes at all? It's not like I can hurt you."

When that failed it was "Are we there yet?" and "I need a rest" and "Can't we stop?" and "It's just that it's so hot!" She was good to distract them, and Janice did her best not to unhorse herself accidentally.

Feivel knew she couldn't ride well, considering he'd had to keep the pace for those weeks when they'd ridden together. She was awed and intimidated by horses, and Kendra was, too. Just what Kendra was doing beyond pouting was beyond him, though.

Finally he decided they were far enough away that pursuit would be difficult to retrieve. He kicked his horse out of the line, nudged it towards the leader of the guard. "I need to take a piss," he said calmly. "And the women might do well with stopping to rest. It's getting on towards noon."

"We're not stopping," the guard told him.

"That's a bit inhumane, isn't it?" Feivel asked, gripping the saddlehorn uncomfortably with his tied hands. "For the horses at the very least. It's blisteringly hot out here. Look. There's trees over there. We'll give them some shade, let them graze a little, make Marley shut up with her whining, and let them get their wind back before you run them down with work. I'll bet there's water over there, too. Give them a rest. Give you guys a rest. Those armor suits must be wickedly uncomfortable."

"We're not stopping."

Feivel bit his lip to stop from cursing him out. "Fine. Can we just pause momentarily so I can take a leak? I've been holding it all fucking morning."

The soldier jerked his head towards the trees, and the escort started herding them towards it. There weren't a good deal of trees, really, but it was enough. What he needed to do was to go far enough in to hide his actions from the group, disable his keeper (possibly plural), and come back out to surprise the remaining soldiers.

Frankly put, they were doomed.

There was no way he could take out fifteen of them. And he wasn't about to hope that Marley and Janice were going to help at all. He doubted Marley would know what to do if given a sword, and Janice... well. He wanted Janice as far away from the melee as possible as quickly as possible. The slightest drop of blood on her, a brush in the wrong way with a dying man, she could go bad places really fast.

And as for him, there was no chance that that channel was going to open up to him a second time. Not so soon upon the first.

He was thinking too much, he knew. He knew because he was getting nervous. Maybe it would be better to wait and--

He felt the sudden jolt in his gut telling him this was the wrong answer by a long shot. His Lady demanded this, then, and his Lady would get it. Her will was his will.

They untied him from the saddlehorn and he slid off the back of his horse rather clumsily, being that his hands were still bound tightly before him and he could not steady himself on the way down. He watched carefully as they led him away. They unseated Marley, but Janice, they told the girls, was staying as far off the earth as possible. They didn't trust her one bit.

"I don't really blame you," she answered sunnily.

Feivel was led away into the woods, far enough for privacy, but not far enough that shouts would not be heard. He made a big show of fumbling with the knots on his trousers, finally offering up his wrists to the guards. "Either untie me here," he said, "or untie my pants. I can't get them loose like this."

The guard gave him a look that read 'I wasn't born yesterday', and Feivel bounced in place in a very undignified manner.

"Come on. How would you like it if I told you to go wet yourself, now that you've been brought to nature's commode."

The guard considered this for a long moment, drew his sword, and cut Feivel's fastenings, muttering something muntinous about being bossed around by a lowly witch of all things.

Feivel had been around the Those That Stayed long enough to understand how the 'civilized' world pretty much operated. He took a piss, and as he did, noticed how the guard relaxed. Clearly, if the prisoner really did have to go, there was absolutely nothing suspicious any longer.

Wrong.

Feivel fought dirty, literally.

He turned towards his guard, only one thankfully, and the man jumped back, suddenly drenched in piss and yelping while smearing at his eyes. Yeah. Good show. That'll help.

Feivel leaped upon him, grabbed his sword, and slammed it into his throat. Now, as he lay dying, he gurgled quite a bit more than he screamed. Feivel wrenched the sword free and ran, yanking his pants shut as he went. He heard the guards behind him as they came thrashing through the forest.

Feivel plowed through, panicked. He had never gotten the hang of forests. The forests were for the Those That Stayed. He was much more at home in the open sky, the open fields, the open plains.

They were so screwed.

He felt the tug, and he veered left, towards the plains.

Thank you, Lady, ever so much. At least now I'll get to die in open air.