The capital road choked with bodies and beasts as they neared the city proper. Soren had never seen so many people pressed into one stretch of earth, merchants hauling carts piled high with goods, pilgrims trudging with downcast eyes and prayer beads clutched in calloused hands, messengers on lathered horses weaving through gaps with reckless determination.
The very air felt different here, thick with the mingled scents of sweat, perfume, livestock, and desperation.
"Close ranks," Ser Dallen commanded, his voice cutting through the cacophony of shouts and hoofbeats. "Noble territory ahead."
The knights shifted their formation without hesitation, drawing tighter around Veyr. Soren found himself squeezed closer to the young lord, their knees nearly touching as they navigated the crowded thoroughfare.
The casual distance Veyr had maintained throughout their journey had vanished, replaced by a careful proximity that spoke volumes about the dangers they now faced.
