Hajin backed out of the ravine once the stockade closed and the first spill of hounds hit the roads.
The palisade stood fifty yards ahead, and Hans held his reserve beneath the walkway while hounds poured into the ditch. Cassie's squad returned from the irrigation plank as sixty volunteers formed the frontage, keeping the southern route safe behind them.
His fingers itched while he wound the chain against his wrist instead of flinging it across their points.
'They need a wall they can hold when my chain is somewhere else, dammit.'
"Hold your Rings, my lord," Hans called, raising a hand toward the waiting reserve, "let them keep this ditch with wood and steel before we teach them every charge needs a summon standing in front!"
"Seriously? They're right there, practically lining up to get smacked!"
"And next month you'll be somewhere else, my lord."
Hajin folded his arms beyond the escape lanes and blew out a long, sulky breath, "Fine, the line's yours, Commander."
