49 Ward
The grass has been flattened by many fast feet. Tent flaps billow around him as he checks each tent to make sure no one is left.
“Master Ward, why does this keep happening?” one of the last stragglers asks as he passes.
“We are on the run,” Ward says simply. What do they want me to say? We’re in the middle of a rebellion, not a picnic. Ward takes a swig from his canteen. Had life still been normal, he would have enjoyed this day. The sky is a bright clear blue, save for a few fluffy clouds that hang low in the sky. The sun is bright, exposing each person hurrying into the city. The front of the line is just arriving at the front gate. No doubt Taytra is giving the soldiers hell and demanding that they be let in.
“Ward!”
He turns to face one of the remaining soldiers that has
