Forged Destiny [Book 3: Ch. 4]

The twang of bowstring might have been heard, were it not for the rain. Instead, it was all the figure could do to turn to the side and notice it, before three more struck the caravan, and one finally hit the target. The arrow protruded from the driver's side. With a lurch, the figure slipped from the seat, falling into the mud.

[...]

With a sigh, I tore the cloak free. Revealing my armoured form, a single arrow clamped in the side. It had pierced the metal – barely – but proved unable to do the same with the leather jerkin underneath, or the cloth shirt beneath that. We knew that, of course. Testing it with one of Oscar's arrows hadn't been hard.

—Forged Destiny [Book 3: Ch. 4]