The locked path narrowed at the orchard gate.
Yan could see the family beside it through the trees: a mother, an old man, and two children pressed against a stone trough. The formation had forced them away from the open road, but its lines converged ahead of them at a bright mark in the paving. Beyond that mark, a shallow ditch ran toward the storehouses.
Ning had called them in from the far side of the courtyard. The family had not made it through before the formation surged.
“The mother is named Sava,” Ning said from the corridor. “Her father can’t run. The youngest is hurt but walking.”
Wei’s shields held between the family and the archers. “I can send two students around the ditch.”
“They’ll reach them after the next volley,” Yan said. “I can get there now.”
“You’ll be crossing the mark.”
“I know.”
