EPIC: they are almost murdered

There really was nothing like imminent death to encourage teamwork, Robin thought, hand in hand with her current worst enemy. Dashing haphazardly through bushes, over roots, past one hapless-looking (but, she noted with relief, normal-sized) squirrel, they crashed indiscriminately through the brush until she had the presence of mind to ask, "Where are we going?"

"I don't care. Anywhere," he said, panting. "As long as it's away from that monster."

It didn't sound like much of a plan to Robin. "Can we look for—a thicket, or something—someplace useful—" she tried to say, but then he halted so suddenly that his grip on her hand wrenched at her shoulder and she stumbled painfully before she caught herself.

"Um, ow? Some warning in the future?" she said, snatching her hand out of his and rubbing her shoulder.

He was looking hard at something she couldn't see. "Trust me, I don't think that's the worst you'd suffer if we keep going this way," he said, backing away.

"What?" Robin said, craning her neck and peering at the section of woods that he indicated. "I don't know what you—"

There was a very faint whistle of something swung through the air with incredible force. Robin, later, had only the fuzziest of ideas what exactly had happened, but somehow both of them were on the ground and the blade of a truly enormous sword was embedded inches deep into the tree behind where their heads had just been. On the other end of the sword was a comparably enormous man, at least six and a half feet tall, with shoulders a mile wide, and clad entirely in black armor. His head was enclosed by a helmet carved into a detailed mask. Robin had the impression of feathers and a cruel, curved beak.

With a deep grunt, he yanked the sword from the tree in one powerful movement and approached them, swinging it threateningly in one hand. They both took hasty steps back, in agreement for the practically first time since they'd met.

"Is it me, or is that sword bigger than I am?" she said, her mouth going dry.

"Oh, I wish it were just you." Holding his hands out placatingly, the boy said, "Whoa, hey now. Uh, I think we can put that away. And, you know, have a nice conversation. Like normal people. Sort things out. Talk about our problems."

The armored man made no reply, except to take a menacing step closer. The light filtering through the branches glittered ominously on the sword's very sharp edge.

"Should we run?" she whispered urgently.

"We should run."

As if he'd sensed their intentions—or, of course, he'd heard them talking right there—the man raised his sword. Up until this moment, Robin had always found the word bloodcurdling slightly ridiculous. Curdling was for cheese, she'd admonish mentally when she happened across the word in a book. Then the man let loose a roar she hadn't thought could come from a human throat and she was fairly sure that her blood had gone right ahead and curdled without her approval.

Through the hammering in her heart that the sound had raised, she had the scattered thought that he really might not be human at all. It was not a comforting idea. Then again, neither was the six-foot sword bearing down towards them.

She thought she heard the boy sigh beside her. She sympathized completely. She'd wanted to go home, not be chopped into bits in the middle of a forest where no one would hear her scream. Well, she amended, with the shining exceptions of her estimable companion and her murderer. Not the most helpful of witnesses.

Since it seemed inevitable that her time in this bizarre world, and quite possibly all worlds in general, was coming to an end, pride suggested that she should compose some appropriately noble last words. Unfortunately for posterity, she was unable to resist whispering, "What was that about my tombstone again?"

"I—screw you."

A fine eulogy if there ever was one.


.:.


Having prepared herself to die, Robin was surprised to find a few tortuous moments later that being dead felt exactly the same as being alive, down to the ache in her side from running and the prick of the obligatory pebble in her shoe. She opened one eye tentatively to find the sword quivering a bare inch from her nose and nearly fainted.

But through the dizzy rush she realized that there was a newcomer to the scene—and he was probably the reason why she was still alive to notice the golden crown on his head, the fine clothes he was wearing, and the very handsome appearance that was only slightly spoiled by his scowl. It was quite the change of pace from man-eating sparrows, though she had to admit that she didn't mind one bit.

There was a long silence, which the crowned man spent trying his best to glare at all of them at once. Robin made some progress towards calming her pounding heart as the boy fidgeted beside her. "You know, we don't seem to be dead," he observed eventually.

The crowned man rounded on them. "Quiet! Commander Rad, what is going on here?" he snapped.  

Commander Rad was standing impressively still, the enormous sword still held in midair with no apparent effort. "I apprehended them," he replied, his voice a rumble so low that Robin felt like the ground vibrated as he spoke.

The crowned man breathed a sigh. "But I didn't ask you to attack them, did I."

"I apprehended them, Prince," Commander Rad repeated with a touch of stubbornness.

The prince pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated expression, but he didn't press the point further. He seemed to realize that it would be pointless. "Just go get the horses," he said. For answer, Commander Rad sheathed his monstrous sword in a blindingly swift motion, bowed, and vanished into the trees. His step was surprisingly light.

"Now," the prince said, turning to the remaining members of his audience. His gaze turned appraising. "As for you. What do you call yourselves?"

"Matthew. Matthew McKinley," the boy said after an awkward pause. Robin snuck a startled glance at him and he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

The prince's smile was very faint, and unreadable. "And you?" he said to Robin.

"Why do you want to know?" she surprised herself by demanding.

Something imperceptible changed in his face, and he looked at her differently, his hand moving just slightly towards the sword at his side. "I wish you no harm," he said.

Robin couldn't think of a way he could use her name against her, even though she wanted badly to be suspicious of him. "Robin," she said at last.

"Robin and Matthew," the prince repeated. He nodded, as if to himself. "You will come to the castle with me."

Robin and Matthew exchanged a glance. "I don't think we'll be doing that," Matthew said slowly.

"And why not?" the prince said, his smile still neutral.

"We, um, need to be somewhere else," Robin said.

The prince's expression didn't change. "I'm sure you don't. Though if you insist, it'll be my pleasure to send Commander Rad with you to… ensure your safety."

Matthew frowned. "Wow, that's not subtle at all."

"Matthew," hissed Robin, "shut up."