Bolting down the street as fast as he could, Ren pushed past stalls and people, carts and horses. Behind him, the guards were forced to wheel their mounts around to keep from barrelling into the crowd. Anik was ahead of him, and led the way in between buildings and over a fence. Chickens scattered and flapped their wings in fear as they fled through the streets. Ren could hear shouts and several sets of hooves clattering against stone. No matter what they did to try and shake them, the guards knew the streets well. In a matter of minutes, every guard in the town would be chasing them.

Ren's heart hammered in his chest, breath burning in his lungs. He skipped around an elderly man in his path carrying a crate of fruit and turned a corner. Anik was gone. Ren stopped, frantically spinning around. Which way now? The shouts were getting closer. It couldn't end like this. If he could just find a place to hide…

A tight grip on his arm yanked him backward and he let out a surprised yelp as he was dragged through an opening in a fence.

Anik pulled Ren down behind a pair of large barrels only moments before the horses came thundering by. He could feel Anik's hot breath against his neck before the Lowlander let go of him, his gaze lingering for a moment before he pushed to his feet.

They both froze.

They were in a backyard, a few chickens scraping at the muddy ground around their feet. Everything was grey and brown, dry dirt covering the ground and the lower part of the wall, making the young man clutching a bag of corn to his chest look completely out of place. He appeared to be about eighteen and had a beautiful face, long blond hair falling over his shoulder in a soft wave. His large, frightened eyes were cornflower blue. The iron cuffs around his wrists looked too big and too rough for his delicate frame.

“Don't scream,” Anik said quietly, holding up both hands like he was trying to calm a frightened animal. The boy's breathing was shallow, lips parting as his eyes darted to the swords at their hips, but he kept quiet.

“What's taking so long, boy?” a deep, rough voice called from inside, making the youth flinch. Ren heard footsteps, then the creaking of hinges as the door to the backyard opened. A large, broad-shouldered man wearing a bloody apron appeared in the doorway. Ren's eyes widened at the massive cleaver in his hand.

Anik was the first to move, reaching for his sword, but Ren closed a hand around his wrist and squeezed before he got a chance to draw.