Sir Cael Ardent did not wait for the second blast of the north-gate horn to die away across the river fog.
With his left hand still rubbing the phantom sting across the back of his right hand above the thumb—where Warden Brecht’s grooved black needle had grazed him at dusk in the life that had just vanished—the Returner wheeled his dapple-grey charger around on the slick cobbles and spurred straight up North Street toward the gatehouse arch.
“Dain!” Cael shouted as Captain Dain’s river-gate watchmen came running down the stone ramparts with their long ash pikes at the trail. “Drop the outer timber bar behind the coach wheels the instant the sixth horse clears the arch! Level crossbows at the baggage box—if the driver reaches under his seat, shoot the reins from his hands!”
Jon Hale ran right behind the charger’s stirrup, his boots splashing through the wheel-ruts with the Bound Common Charter (#14) clamped under his left arm and Lady Signe Lorr striding hard beside him with her blue velvet hem kilted through her belt. Behind them came Alden Bram carrying his heavy iron-shod ash measuring cane and Sister Oda holding her brass shrine keys against her hip so they would not clatter.
