The knight Roran had dispatched reached the manor gates minutes ahead of the group. Dust kicked up from the path as his steed came to a sharp halt.
Two manor guards lounging near the entrance stood abruptly, eyes narrowing. One of them—a wiry man with a crooked nose—gripped his spear and stepped forward. "Halt! State your business!"
The knight didn't even slow. "Step aside."
The other guard scowled. "You deaf? We said halt—"
Before the words could finish, the knight was already dismounting. His boots hit the stone with a solid thud, and his hand flicked his cloak aside to reveal a insignia on his breastplate.
But it wasn't just the emblem that gave the guards pause.
It was the way he moved.
In a blink, the young knight closed the distance, and with one hand, he shoved the guard's spear aside and grabbed the front of his armor. The man stumbled, nearly falling back onto the stone step.
