Outside the keep, the men outside were about to erumpt into violence. The army stood ready, restless hands gripping weapons and eyes fixed on the stone walls of the keep. The infantry had formed tight ranks, shields at the ready gripping axes that they would use to smash the door , while archers were preparing to nock their arrows. .
Jarza stood at the forefront, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the keep's walls. His broad frame was tense, muscles coiled as if ready to spring into action. His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword, white-knuckled with barely restrained frustration.
"Damn that reckless fool," Jarza muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth as he cast another wary glance at the gate. "Alpheo's gone and walked straight into the lion's den without a second thought. One wrong move, and they'll have his head on a pike."
