She had never shown it to him. The calm way she lifted it told Ran immediately that this was not the first dangerous situation she had faced. "This isn't your fight," he said. Aina gave him a look that came close to contempt. "My ankle," she answered in slow, careful Spanish.
Ran stared at her. Until that moment, he had not realized she knew the language at all. Then she added, ""My trap."" Ran said nothing for a second. Aina sat back down with the bow resting across her knees. "I stay here." He understood enough.
Arguing would get him nowhere. About an hour before sunset, the three men finally rode out from the trees. They had the look of men hardened by long roads and dirty work. Men accustomed to earning money in ways respectable people did not ask too many questions about. The rider in front had several weeks of beard on his face and cold eyes that moved over the property with professional care.
Ran waited in the yard. His rifle rested easily in his hands. He was not aiming it. He did not need to. The message was plain enough.
The bearded man introduced himself as a licensed trapper working the surrounding country. He said somebody had been interfering with his traps and that he had come to find out who was responsible. Ran told him he knew nothing about it. The stranger studied the cabin. Then he looked back at Ran.
After a moment, he added that there had also been reports of an Apache woman moving through those mountains. According to him, she had escaped from a lawful capture. There was a federal order attached to her name, he claimed, and a substantial reward for anyone who turned her in. Ran kept his face unreadable. "I haven't seen any woman like that." The bearded man finally gave his name, Thaad Quillin.
He said that under the circumstances, he would still like to have a look inside the cabin. "No," Ran said. The word landed between them like a stone. For several seconds, nobody moved. Thaad glanced toward the two men riding with him, Oric Fenroe and Toiver Dre.
Then his eyes dropped to Ran's rifle. He looked toward the treeline. Finally, he turned his attention to the cabin door. That was when the arrow came. It flew out of the shadowed doorway and struck the bridle of Thaad's horse so close to the cheekpiece that it sliced away a narrow strip of leather.
The horse threw its head violently. Thaad grabbed for control and spent the next few seconds fighting to stay in the saddle. By the time the animal settled, he found himself facing two things. The unmoving barrel of Ran's rifle and Aina. She stood in the doorway behind him with a second arrow already set to the string.