The screaming of horses, made Arturo turn sharply in his saddle, causing his mount to startle and rear up beneath him. With two quick hand motions, he turned and headed off in the direction of the noise followed by a group of five men. The rest continued on to their original location. There was no reason to involve prisoners, and wagons to something potentially dangerous. Thundering onto the scene, Arturo stopped, his blood running cold.

Large spikes of ice impaled horses and a few men feet away from a small creek trickling near by. Stopping, he turned his eyes to the men who seemed to be approaching a cowering girl. The leader stood, shattered ice around his feet. The most amazing thing about the tableau was the water that seemed to follow the girl.

He barely spared a glance at his men who were cursing under their breath. Making a quick decision, Arturo stepped into the middle of things, drawing his sword but leaving it point down. He stepped between the girl and the bandits.

“It seems it's not,” he said, smiling at the man. His one good eyes gleaming with unholy glee at the thought of a decent fight. He wasn't normally violent man, but he liked even odds and one pathetic girl against half a dozen men. It added up to trouble for the girl.