Saber tucked in his limbs and tried to avoid the arrow as well as he could, but two scored deep gashes in his arms. The ropes wound themselves around him and left him lying on the damp street, tied down. However, Saber began to grunt and groan with effort, muscles bulging, until his voice rose to a shout. The ropes stretched and eventually burst apart as Archer withdrew into the distance. He stood up slowly, feeling the pain of his wounds. "Are you alright?" Siegfried asked, trying to disguise his own creeping fatigue.
"I have been wounded, my lord, but not seriously. You musn't exhaust yourself on my behalf, however; a good ruler must not drive himself into the ground caring for his subjects. Good kings are called destroyers of gold, but no good king has ever eliminated all of his gold." Saber stopped with the faintest hint of a smile. "Shall I carry you back to the mansion?" His voice was pitched so that only his Master could hear, but Siegfried stiffened all the same.
"That won't be necessary," he snapped. Stalking over to the other Master, he asked a question that mostly lacked the caring tone normally heard with it. "Are you injured?"