It’s funny the kind of thing that a brain will throw out in the most unusual circumstances.  In this case, it was my brain noting the very different sounds made by the strings of bows compared to crossbows.  The sound of mechanical impact told me, even in the darkness of the barracks, that a crossbow bolt was on its way and I had a fraction of a second to react before my brain would be intimately familiar with the bolt in question.

Luckily, while my mind was producing all manner of unhelpful trivia concerning the likely composition of the trap I’d just triggered, my body was already in action.

I hurled myself backwards.

Dodging forwards would have been a really bad idea, since I had no idea if there were any more traps lined up.  As it turned out, jumping backwards wasn’t too clever either.  I’d let the door swing closed behind me and whilst it kept my activities hidden from prying eyes, my activity right now was getting shot.

I slammed into the door, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.  At the same moment, I felt a sharp, burning pain across my ribs.  I heard the impact of the bolt thumping into the wall and was grateful that I’d avoided a more serious brush with the bolt.