No, to their regret

"Wait your turn, Forester." The slender man behind her snarled like a dog with a scrap of hide. "This lass is no child, and she and I are going to have a little dance before she goes." In spite of his thin build the outlaw was wiry and strong, and it was all Christine could do to keep his hand from pulling down her bodice. As for his other hand, his fingers dug into the softness under her skirts and no matter how she twisted her hips she could not shake free of his groping.

"Or maybe you'd prefer the boy." Laughed the man missing his hand. The grey-haired drifter had Erik on his knees with his truncated arm hooked tightly around the frightened boy's throat. His good hand now held a short, hooked blade, up to Erik's face. "I hear you Verderer's like pretty boys like this. It would be a shame if his face got all cut up."

"Set the children free," the mounted man repeated as his sword point lowered towards the pair in an unspoken threat, "and my quarrel with you is over." Neither willing to surrender his prize or keep his back to the forester, the man holding Christine spun her in front of him using her slender body as a shield. He found the poniard at her side and drew the blade from its finely decorated sheath.

Christine sensed that they were at an impasse. The king's warden clearly did not want to risk harm to her or her brother, but she could read the steady intent in his clear blue eyes. He was not going to leave her here with these rough squatters to be abused, robbed and likely killed. She understood why the Verderer was waiting, but why were the others unwilling to accept the swordsman's offer. It was then she remembered the third outlaw, and her eyes scanned the woods for any sign of the oldest of the trio.

Once she knew what to look for, she spotted the grey-haired man with a long cudgel approaching the Verderer from the rear. He was still several feet away, but his intentions were clear.

"Behind you!" Christine's warning came in time for the Verderer to avoid the sudden attack. His horse pranced forward towards where Erik was kneeling, as his sword caught the one-armed man just below the ear cleaving the man's head almost in two. After all Christine had been through, the sight of a man's final living moment was too much to bear, and her knees buckled even as everything went black.

"Christine!" A gentle slapping on her face and the urgency of her brother's panicked whisper made her eyes open with a start. Erik's face was just inches from hers and his hand was about to hit her again when he saw her awaken. She sat up slowly assessing the situation. The Verderer was standing a few paces away, cleaning the blood off his sword. One body, that of the younger man lay twitching at his feet and the one-armed man was slumped like a discarded ragdoll a few feet further away.

"You're safe." The blue-eyed warden spoke confidently although his eyes never stopped scanning the surrounding. "Their leader got away, but you are under my protection now." There was something about the way he spoke that made Christine feel safe for the first time since the Black Prince's unexpected arrival.

"Sir Werner killed both of them, it was over before they knew what hit them."

"I'm no knight boy," the Verderer corrected Erik. "Call me Werner, or Master Werner if you prefer, and the fight might not have been so easy had it not been for your sister's timely warning." For the first time the man's gaze paused long enough to meet hers, and her heart fluttered unexpectedly in her chest.

She lowered her gaze, uncertain how to react to this new emotion when she realized that in her struggles with the brigand her bodice had been pulled out of shape and that one of her breasts was threatening to explode from the tight lacings. A quick glance at her rescuer confirmed that the man had seen more of her pale skin than any other, even Sir William. Perhaps embarrassed that he had been caught staring at her, the Verderer coughed softly and resumed his watchful scanning of the trees. Christine blushed brightly, knowing that the man who had just fought and killed for her had been eying her exposed flesh did nothing to ease the pounding of her heart. Only the reassuring lump of her father's ring hidden just below her bosom helped calm her down so she could focus on what had to be done.

"Get your belongings together," the Verderer's baritone was as calm as ever, "I will take you to Oldchester." He averted his gaze as the girl adjusted her dress, still shocked by how much just that glimpse of her pale, round tit had affected him. He could feel his penis swelling in his leggings is if he were just an unwed teenager again. It was a good thing for her that he arrived when he did. Even just a few minutes later, as pretty as she was, she would have been spread out on the ground with all three of the gang taking turns with her fresh young body. That mental picture was too much for him and he had to step away from the pair and adjust himself.

He turned back to watch the young woman brush the leaves out of her hair, and tuck the fallen dagger back into her belt, and wondered how she came to be wandering the king's forests with no protection. He had found abandoned children in these woods before, but these two were no beggar's urchins. Both dressed in well-sewn clothing of dyed wool, and the knives they wore on their hips were of better quality than any he owned.