A Bolt from the Blue - Or Rather from the Black

"Well, nobody's stopping you," the guard said, still laughing.

Astra sighed, and accepted the inevitable. At least she only needed to urinate. She let herself go.

She didn't hear the faint swish of the crossbow bolt, but just as she was finishing her business she heard a thump as the guard fell face forward about ten feet away from her. She looked up and saw him lying on the ground, dead, with only the last couple of inches of the bolt protruding from his back.

A figure dressed all in black was walking towards her, the crossbow that had fired the bolt now once more slung over one shoulder, and with knife in hand. Totally unexpected though this was, it seemed that she was about to be rescued. She hadn't thought that anyone outside the camp even knew that she was a prisoner, still less had a motive for freeing her.

As the moonlight shone on the approaching figure's face, she saw that:

1. It was a man.
2. To her surprise, it was a woman.
3. To her surprise, it was a boy of no more than fifteen.

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