Eragos checked the straps on his saddle for the fiftieth time. The sword was securely in place. Nothing was going as they'd planned it ages ago, when the world was innocent and they could rely on their friends. That didn't mean he could drop his guard, assume everyone was an enemy. He had to stay focused but alert. That was how he noticed them, winding through the crowd at an easy pace. Four men in grey, and... that was impossible. Eragos saw at their head Barada himself. The man looked like a corpse. They were still searching for their quarry, apparently, since none of them had given more than a passing glance to five riders among hundreds. It wouldn't take long. Bloodshot eyes scanned the road. It looked as though none of his cuts had healed.
None.
He whistled, a low and even sound that would alert the Lady Vera.
If they continued on this way, they would reach the horse bridges ahead of the grey riders. There was still the matter of reaching the gate through that winding serpent's path of trails and roads. Eragos didn't know how long it would take. He also didn't know if they would start a fight this close to so many soldiers. Safety in numbers was a relief but not a guarantee. There were a great many civilians about. Enough that he was concerned for their safety if a fight did break out. Time. Time to reach the gate, time to stave off the inevitable. Eragos didn't want to split off from the group - the Lady Vera alone would not be able to deal with five fighters, even if Barada looked as though he was about to fall out of his saddle. So what did that leave?
"Is there a problem, Master Feareborne?" the Lady Cithia asked.
"Not at the moment."
Eragos almost urged his horse past her, to the head of the line, but he wanted to wait. If the Lady Vera spotted them as quickly as he did she would have a few seconds to consider their next course of action before they needed a decision.