Arthur’s traveling into Saint-Denis, passing through the murky, gator-infested swamp when he skids to a stop on his horse. There’s a young woman lying in the middle of the path with a bloodied leg, steed slumped beside her.

“Eaasy girl...ma’am?”

To his surprise the moment he hops off his horse the woman drawls her weapon. “Stay back!”

Arthur notes the logo stitched into her hat and scowls, drawing. O’Driscoll. “Put it down!” He demands, voice rumbling. “It ain’t gotta go this way.”