The heavy tread of footsteps, the scrape of weapons being drawn, and the soft rattle of chains instantly broke the brief stalemate.
The Ranger that Roland had noticed silently slipped to the flank, his fingers already on the bowstring of his short bow.
Two of the burliest men, their auras as heavy as stone, stepped forward on the left and right, sealing off any path Holland might take to charge.
Riley, like a venomous snake in the Shadow, silently took a half-step back, gripping his dagger in a reverse hold, his cold eyes searching for an opportunity to strike.
Even near the bar and at the stairwell, two men each stood guard, cutting off all avenues of retreat.
Cold sweat instantly beaded on Holland's forehead, and his heart hammered heavily in his chest.
He quickly scanned the carefully laid encirclement, cursing silently.
