He put them to the front, and he kept close behind them, as his men converged around him. Ordinarily, in the past, it would have been him right at the front. Now, he saw worth in waiting. When it was the likes of Third Boundary men that he was dealing with, and men even stronger than them, it seemed preferable to wait, and to use all that he had available.
His boots left heavy prints in the sand. He was running at a speed, but he felt as if he was running in slow motion. Those King's men were nervous. They clung to the formations that they'd been instructed towards as if they were shields. They weren't retreating anymore. They seemed to believe that those lines that they stood in would offer strength.
