Ralan knew that his biggest strategic asset was his biggest tactical weakness—his yellow tunic. It would make him a clear target for every knight in the Tower. It would distract them all from his friends' escape, but it also made him stand out in the sea of white, making him much easier to catch. He didn't think much about it until he made it through the front gate of the Tower.

Getting there wasn't very difficult. The knights all wore their armor, whether it was the thick ornamental armor or the chain mail of the working knights. Ralan found it easy to sprint past one knight while dodging another. In fact, his entire life had consisted of him running through crowds and avoiding outstretched hands.

One of the things Ralan had mastered was using the momentum of one pursuer against a different pursuer. This was made much easier by the bulk of the knights. He would pull a knight off his feet only to have other knights trip over their fallen friend. The most difficult trial was getting past a string of knights at the front gate, who stood with their swords unsheathed.

But Ralan had been through a similar gauntlet during several escapes. Of course, he had been caught more than a few times facing them, but the difference between success and failure always came down to one thing—the floor.

Ralan ran to the knights, who all appeared to be salivating at the opportunity of striking him dead right then and there. There was one particularly huge knight near the middle. Ralan pointed at him and grinned, running straight at him. The knight set his legs, and swung his sword in front of him.

With a slight leap, Ralan feigned a punch. The knight brought up his sword only to see Ralan dive toward his feet. Just as the guard brought his sword down, Ralan slid between his legs, the smooth marble of the Tower floor offering little resistance. It wasn't a perfect fit, which was fine for Ralan. He tugged on the knight's white cloak, which pulled him up and the knight backward. As the knight fell, he got in the way of the other knights. By the time they had realized what had happened, Ralan was in the grass field beyond the Tower's large iron doors.

He had escaped so quickly that there was confusion as shouts and alarm klaxons rang. Shouts of "Stop him!" were followed by knights looking around for whom they were supposed to stop. This is almost too easy, Ralan thought, as a cry of "Stop the Craftsman" came from the Tower. Moments later an arrow hit the ground at Ralan's feet.

Yellow tunic. Surrounded by white. Archers on the Wall. Not good, Ralan thought. And then he saw it. A large wagon with four horses pulling it. It was on the side of the road with a broken wheel. Thank you, Maela, Ralan thought. He zigzagged through the field, arrows barely missing him.

Sprinting around the wagon, he stopped as it shielded him from the archers on the wall. He quickly pulled off his yellow tunic and tossed it on the ground. With a quick sprint, he ran up and leapt onto the back of one of the horses at the front of the wagon. The horse was muscular and rested, and with a kick Ralan was off.

Another skill that few knew that Ralan had mastered was riding horses. When he was younger on his parents' property in the Upper Triangle he would ride his favorite horse way out to the Outer Fields where he would steal fruit from the orchards.

Without fail, a guard would chase him on horseback, but Ralan on a horse was perhaps more agile and slippery than Ralan on his feet. He would leap hay bales and take tight turns around trees and gallop along treacherous creek beds.

His adventures ended one day when the Polo visited his father. From that point on, Ralan had not ridden a horse.

Yet, as he took off down the road on the back of the mighty steed, it felt like he had never missed a day of riding in his life. The rhythm of the gallop felt natural as Ralan leaned forward and let the horse guide him.

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The trouble was that outrunning the news of the prison escape didn't matter. He was already the subject of a city-wide manhunt. He'd get to the Great Bridge, and the fact that he now wasn't wearing a guild color combined with the expectation that he would escape to the Old Quarter meant that everyone on the Bridge would target his approach before he was within a hundred yards.

Still, he had no choice. The horse raced away from the Great Gate up River Road, the river to his right and the Flats to his left. The sun was setting, and the road was thick with traffic, as crowds of people were making their way to the Flats from their work in the Harvest Fields or the Mines. He passed coaches, wagons, horsemen, and crowds of people walking along the road.

He raced past a knight on horseback, and his speed betrayed him, as the knight called out, "Hey you. What is the hurry?" The knight immediately started to pursue Ralan. There were too many people to put distance between Ralan and his pursuer, so he took a hard left into the Flats. The knight was not too far behind, and Ralan galloped as fast as the horse would go and then he would take hard turns into paths that led behind houses.

Glancing over his shoulder, Ralan could not believe that the knight was still pursuing him. In fact, the knight was catching up. He's a good rider, Ralan thought. Let's see if he's fearless, though. Ralan patted the neck of the horse. Be strong and trust me.

Ralan turned to the back of one house and a large hedge that separated its rear yard from the rear yard of a backing house. The hedge must have been about five feet tall. Ralan kicked the horse and leaned down as the horse leapt the hedge.

They horse stumbled as it landed, but Ralan held on. Glancing over his shoulder, Ralan smiled. The knight did not attempt the jump. He still wasn't far, so Ralan gave the horse a kick and led it across another lawn and another jump. This one was lower but more dangerous, as it was a fence with sharp edges extending up. After clearing the jump, Ralan yanked the horse to the west, and they galloped back toward the Great Bridge.

You did me a favor, knight, Ralan thought. Even those pursuing me won't know where I'm at now.

As he re-entered River Road, Ralan had to slow his horse to a walk. He was closer to the Bridge, and a steady stream of people flowed into the road, clogging it and making a fast pace impossible. Something he had never considered before suddenly dawned on him. There are hundreds of guild members that live in the Wretched Quarter. All of these people in Harvest guild colors and even some Craftsman colors are heading to the Old Quarter. They must live there and work on this side of the river.

The concept that so many guild members lived in the Wretched Quarter shocked Ralan. It went against everything his Upper Triangle family had taught him.

Shaking his head at the continued uncovering of his own ignorance, Ralan looked at the bridge in the distance. It was a massive structure that crossed the nearly mile-wide Great River. Rocks and steel were combined in one of the greatest of architectural feats—a bridge that expanded the original city of Ness over the river into the lush fields that would soon become the new center of the city.

Ralan knew little about the Wretched Quarter—no, not Wretched Quarter, Old Quarter, I must call it the Old Quarter—across the bridge. He had been taught that it was full of murderers and thieves and the squalid poor who did no work and lived off of cheating the hard-working citizens on his family's side of the river. Yet now he felt a new interest in it and its citizens. The Thieves Tower was there, but what other artifacts of the old city remained? Were there other guild towers, now abandoned? What about the Ash Fields? He did know that the entire move across the river was due to over-farming and the need to abandon the fields that no longer could grow crops. Were those fields truly covered in ash?

These thoughts went through Ralan's mind as he slowly made his way to what he hoped would be nothing more than a shout from one of the knights and then him rushing past on the back of the horse. He wanted to be within just a few yards or even feet of those looking for him before they noticed him. Then they wouldn't have time to organize any kind of true barrier.

He was over a hundred yards away, however, when an alarm sounded. Ralan looked up, and a group of men in armor and blue capes was pointing at him. To his horror, there were dozens of them.

I'm not going to be able to dodge all of them, Ralan thought.

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