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"I can handle myself," he assured her. "Though you should watch out for the swine." He glanced sidelong at the Aelius. "And your boy might want to watch out for that horse." He added, nodding at one of the carthorses which was, indeed eying the buck - though she looked more suspicious than interested.

He sighed. "Perhaps we shall all have to acquire bodyguards of our own."

However, he agreed with her suggestion and was plenty willing to break off in a few minutes to...encourage their party to move more quickly.

"And do what?" he sneered. "Toss yourself in front of the legions?" Though there was no change in his expression from the same sort of casual conversation they had been carrying on, his posture shifted minutely. It was less a tell and more a warning to Nori, should she be observant enough to pick up on it.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Pesnya darting through the brush - the rabbit was sending him a warning. However, it was only a confirmation of what his instincts were telling him.

They were being watched.

"Perhaps I ought to warn our good employers about you," he said lightly. "Clearly, you're a menace to the caravan." With that, he urged his horse into a trot, leaving Nori to the rear of the caravan.

He snorted at the absurdity of both of those statements. She had no more displayed "charming feminine wiles" than had he shown himself to be horrible. But it was time for more serious things.

Acting as though nothing was wrong, he spoke in low tones to the caravan leader. Luckily, the man had enough of a head on his shoulders, and enough experience with attacks, that he did not panic at the news. Instead, he nodded with a hearty laugh and clapped Pyotr on the shoulder - maintaining their illusion. The caravan leader would lead his people onward while the guards dealt with the trouble to the rear. Satisfied, Pyotr allowed himself to drift slowly back along the train.

When the attack came, they were ready.

Allowing Nori and her buck to get things started, Pyotr made certain that their attackers hadn't laid out any unpleasant surprises on their flanks. Between his own efforts and those of Pesnya, he was relatively assured that the bulk of the attack was from the rear. There was a chance, of course, that they had laid an ambush ahead of the caravan, but it was a chance he was willing to take. If it came to that, the merchants could hold their own for the few minutes it would take for his rabbit to bring him the warning.

Satisfied, Pyotr bared his teeth in a vicious grin and joined the fray.

Unlike most mounts these days, his stallion was battle-trained. Man and horse moved as one in a deadly force of whirling hooves and singing blades. Though they doubtless thought themselves quite impressive, the bandits really did not stand a chance.

He glanced at the woman as his sword stuck home. His eyes were fair crackling with energy. "A vast improvement over our droll morning," he replied. "I think I shall have to thank our friends, here."

He blocked the blade of a man who was under the mistaken assumption that a little friendly conversation between associates meant that his concentration was somehow impaired. Then, he countered with a vicious parry, driving his attacker back and back.

Pyotr's sharp eyes carefully scanned their surrounds, but after several moments, he came up with nothing out of the ordinary. Whatever bandits had been there, they seem to have thwarted easily enough. He did not detect any lurking in wait, nor had Pesnya alerted him to an ambush ahead. "I agree," he said, and was certain that none had made it past him to the caravan.

"I had not realized you were looking," he said with a quirk of the brow and a slight smirk. "Like what you see?"

He snorted. "Better than needing to lose a few," he said, and glanced up and down her form speculatively. An implication may or may not have been there.

Pyotr patted his stallion's neck. The black beast had done well, as always. Guardians may be clever in their own way, but there was nothing like a well-trained horse. They were as loyal as they came and could be canny devils.

"We ought to check on the children before they throw a fit, I suppose," he added. The merchants should be fine, but it wouldn't do for them to complain that he was not doing his job properly by not seeing to their safety and holding their hands.