This week’s episode of “The Wayfairer” continues directly on from last week, so if you missed out, don’t forget to check it out.

Like lightning Lyan leapt forward and before even Sara understood what was happening Lyan’s gleaming silver sword was in his hand, held at the throat of the bandit leader.

“You will leave,” Lyan growled, “We have nothing of value to you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” the leader chuckled and raised a hand in signal to his companions.

“Lyan!” Sara launched herself forward as two of the archers released their arrows. His body seemed to bend in ways it was not supposed to as he moved to avoid the loosed arrows. The shoulder of his sword arm rolled back, but his sword did not move. Sara watched, her heart thumping in her chest as Lyan pushed the bandit leader away from him. The leader growled, and with the extra room for movement slashed wildly at Lyan. Sara watched, paralysed with fright, as Lyan blocked his attacks with ease, anticipating each move the bandit made, almost before the bandit knew what he would do.

A glint of metal in the darkness brought Sara’s eyes away from Lyan’s struggle. She felt a scream rise in her throat as a third arrow, loosed from an archer veiled in the darkness of the desert night, cut through the air. Her throat was dry, and although she tried to call a warning to her companion, no sound came from her lips.

 Lyan barely flinched as the shaft hit its mark, in the flesh of his shoulder. His grip on his sword held firm, and his steely gaze did not waver from the leader. Sara pushed herself forward, determined to do something, anything to help. She screamed as a second arrow from the darkness slashed past her, slicing a wide gash across her side and part of her back, where her scars still stung. The shaft did not catch in her flesh though, and as her knees buckled, Sara heard the clang of metal on metal.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Lyan hissed as he deflected the attacks of the leader.

The archers within the circle of light cast by the fire  drew their bow-strings yet again, and panicked, Sara forced herself to her feet.

“Lyan!” she screamed again in warning, She threw herself toward them in an attempt to draw attention away from her companion, before she realised that the twin shafts were not meant for Lyan. She rolled her body away from the arrows path, imitating the way Lyan had avoided the shafts, but she was not quick enough. The arrows tore through her flesh.This time though, the pain was not unexpected, and she kept her feet. All she could think of was finding a way to keep Lyan safe, and to be rid of the bandits. Although the cold, night wind of the desert was completely still, her body felt cold, and a shiver wracked her frame.

A growl filled the air, loud and menacing and without warning a brilliant white wolf entered the camp from the darkness of the plain. It howled, raising it’s enormous head to the moon, then with a low growl it fixed it’s eyes upon the bandits.

Stammering the bandit leader retreated to where his archers stood frozen to the spot, their eyes upon the wolf.

“Run!” The leader snapped, and before the syllable was fully from his lips his back was turned.

The wolf turned slightly to eye Sara, and for a brief moment Sara’s fear of the animal disappeared. Then the wolf loped into the darkness after the fleeing bandits. Lyan stared after it long after both the bandits and the wolf were out of sight, his sword gripped tightly in his hand.

“Odd,” he said finally, and dropped himself down beside the fire.

“Careful!” Sara exclaimed as he began to fall and flew to him. He grimaced as he recognised the pain of the arrow shaft in his shoulder. He turned his eyes to her slowly, and she saw concern register even though a kind of battle rage still burned within them. “Come here,” Something in his tone told Sara not to disobey, and so slowly, and knowing what he intended she knelt before him, “It will hurt, be brave,” he told her in a near whisper. Sara wrenched her head away as he raised his hand to the shaft with a grim look in his grey eyes. Her shoulder burned as he tugged the shaft from her flesh. She bit back a scream stubbornly. She would not, could not scream.

A whimper of pain escaped her throat, and she turned agonised eyes to him in surprise as, without pause he lowered his hand and removed the second shaft from her thigh.

“I wasn’t ready!” She told him fiercely. He shrugged, and raised his hand to feel the wound in his shoulder.

“Wait,” She breathed, unnerved by his casual manner. Her own wounds made her want to scream with the pain, but he acted like he had received something akin to an insect bite.

Forcing herself to move, although her entire body felt stiff, Sara took her only other dress from her bag. Carefully she tore strips from the skirt. Her pain seemed to ease, with her mind focussed upon her task. A barely audible grunt of pain made Sara flinch, and she was struck by a wave of nausea. Knowing that Lyan had removed the shaft from his shoulder, Sara hastily scooped up her bandages and went to his side.

“Leave it,” Lyan told her, his voice carefully neutral. With a sudden jolt Sara realised that far from feeling no pain at his wounds, Lyan merely hid it from her.

“Don’t be silly,” Sara felt her strength rise, “They will fester, and then where will we be?” Lyan only stared at her.

“Come on,” Sara prompted impatiently, “You’re going to have to take… that off,” Sara gestured vaguely at his now blood stained shirt, fighting a blush that rose in her cheeks. Lyan grinned suddenly sensing a challenge in her words, and stiffly rose as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Sara did not know where to look as unashamedly he stripped off his shirt then dropped the torn clothing on the ground and stared at her challengingly.

“Well then?” He prompted a small grin spreading on his face. Sara rose, ignoring the twinges in her side, and her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the man standing before her, completely unashamed of his semi-nakedness.

“Sit,” She said, she sounded much more confident than she felt, and she was pleased with herself for it. He obeyed without hesitation.

Carefully she ran a few drops of water from their limited supply over the wound in his shoulder. She had no other means to clean the wound, and as she bandaged the tear in his flesh she prayed with all her might that they reached an inn or town where they could properly clean the wounds before they festered.

She voiced her concerns to Lyan as she bound the wound tightly and tied it off.

 “There is a place,” He told her after a few minutes silence.

Lyan rose the moment she drew back from him to retrieve his clothing.

“Is it your turn now?” He asked teasingly, motioning to the fresh wounds on her side. Surprised by the sudden turn in his treatment of her, Sara retreated from him, shaking her head forcefully.

“I – I’ll do it myself,” she stammered backing still further away from him.

“I thought you might, pity,” He spoke more to himself than to Sara as he moved to gather his things together.

Sara moved away into the semi-darkness outside of the brightest light of the fire to deal with her own wounds.

“We have to keep moving,” Lyan said as he began to stamp out the fire, his manner brisk again, “we can’t be sure they won’t come back.”

Sara did not argue. She would not have been able to sleep in any case.