The rider came in fast from the east, horse lathered, shouting before he'd even reached the camp.
"Foundation Keeper stragglers," he gasped. "Small group, but they've got prisoners. Villagers from Ashwood."
Wei Liang was already moving. "How many prisoners."
"Six, maybe seven," the rider said. "They're heading toward the old quarry, fast."
Garrow was up, blade in hand. "That's an hour's ride if we push hard."
"Then we push hard," Wei Liang said.
They rode fast through the morning, the group's combined strength moving with the same practiced coordination they'd built over months of fighting together. Wei Dong called out directions from memory, having studied the region's map the night before out of pure habit.
"Quarry's got one main entrance," Wei Dong shouted over the pounding hoove
