The Blue Company sent out scouts, a pair, then another, each time feinting and drawing short-lived pursuit. Soren didn't chase.
Not yet. Instead, he let the approach close until the rhythm of bodies and weapons beat together, turning the grass slicker and the air three degrees warmer just from the friction of effort and anxious sweat.
First contact was the transfer, who Soren thought might be called Jannek, but wasn't entirely sure: Jannek spooling round the left with a half-crouch, trying for the leg hook on Cassian's second.
The move failed, but it bought time. The twins hit next, not to wound but to force the Blue Company to slow, tempo change, not triumph.
Soren watched the first three exchanges from two paces beyond the melee, then stepped in as Cassian tried to box one of the twins against the nave wall.
