Garrow rode into Ironwood Gate's square beneath three banners while his mounted retainers spread wide and shoved carts aside.
Hajin stepped past the fountain as families slipped behind the clinic, while his companions kept every civilian lane wide open.
"My registry, my clinic," Garrow snarled, hauling his stallion up above the muddy entrance, "you throw out my clerks, smash my locks, and then stand there smiling at me?"
"Your clerks couldn't explain the prices."
His restored right shoulder rolled loose while the Chain rested under his left palm, "Figured their boss might enjoy trying, so go ahead and start with the sick kid you charged fifty silver to get through a door."
Garrow drew his sword above the saddle as the two allied lords walked their mounts alongside him.
"These crags belong to whoever can hold them," he snapped, "and your parchment won't stop a charge."
"Then prove it."
