He leaped into the garden, ploughing through with the help of his blade. Irenya stepped in his wake, her ankle boots sinking into the friable soil. On the other side, he unsheathed his sword.
‘Stay close.’ He stepped out and Irenya heard him mutter in a voice that was not falsetto, ‘Meia help anybody in our way.’
Clear of the overgrowth, they hurried along a gravel path as the shouts and clashes from the training ground became clearer and more familiar. They reached the eastern wall of the guards’ quarters without further incident and rounded the corner of the building. Before them was a sight that brought tears of relief to Irenya’s eyes; at least two dozen guards, some exercising, some training in pairs and on the far side of the square, worked a team of archers. Closest stood Captain
