Gwilym’s eyes flashed for a moment in Torben’s direction when he saw the man’s face poking out from behind the tree, and then quickly made eye contact with the figure again. The dwarf shuffled and edged, almost imperceptibly, away from Torben, and the figure adjusted slightly, tracking Gwilym’s movements with the crossbow, and in the process, turning away from Torben.
He readied himself and burst from his hiding place, leaping onto the hooded figure. There was a sharp snap and a high-pitched whistle as the figure pulled the crossbow trigger; they fell under Torben’s weight and the bolt flew into the trees above Gwilym’s head.
In an attempt to subdue the stranger, Torben repeatedly aimed several punches down into the swirling mass of cloak but, every time he brought his fist down, the fig
