The forearm-bolt soldier was at the left building window, crossbow stock tucked under his one good arm, the bolt nocked, waiting.
Beorn looked at him. Then he looked at Harr. Then he dropped his hand.
The center squad broke from the corner at a run.
The barricade crossbowman had been waiting for exactly that, and he came up from behind the crate with his weapon to his shoulder.
The forearm-bolt soldier fired from five feet before the draw was complete. The bolt took the crossbowman through the left bicep and snapped the bone. The arm dropped. The crossbow discharged as the arm went down, the bolt striking the cobblestones in front of the advancing militia and bouncing off sparks into the air.
