The man probably could have loosened the post if he had struggled enough, but he still would have been fastened to what amounted to a heavy log.“The men are here-all we could find quickly, ser,” announced Teras, his voice carrying over the slight whistle of the wind.“Thank you.” Cerryl cleared his throat, then waited as he heard hoofs. A trace of a smile played across his lips as he sensed the chaos that accompanied the two riders.Fydel galloped up, Senglat beside him. The square-bearded mage’s face was red, almost livid, as he dismounted and marched up to Cerryl. His voice was low, pitched at Cerryl and not to carry. “I’m the one in charge of the lancers and what they do.”“I’m in charge of the city,” Cerryl answered quietly. “Your lancer broke the peace, and lancers answer to the Patrol, even in Fairhaven. It’s no different here.”“Why are you doing this?” asked Fydel. “I won’t let you.” Cerryl raised shields and chaos before answering, his voice also low.
