The trumpets woke Kidu from his dream. A moment ago he was jumping off the edge of the sheer white cliffs of Sui'din toward the dark cool ocean. It took a very long time to hit the water, so long that he felt he was floating. The dark water stayed in place and reflected back to him like a mirror. He saw his own face and long dark curly hair undone from his normal braid. Then he crashed into the water. The water wrapped around his neck like ribbons and pulled him down. Further and further he was pulled down, and there were faces in the water. He tried to look at the faces but the water wouldn’t let him turn his head. He tried to speak to the faces but he was afraid to breathe and drown. He gasped for air when trumpets sounded.
A high long shrill note followed by two short low blasts-- a sequence repeated three times signifying an enemy at the gates. Kidu gasped for air as if he truly was under water. He laid on his side until he shook the images of the faces from his mind.
Kidu's quarters were near the rear of the compound so he was further away from the gate than most. He donned his black leather boots and fur cap in haste and grabbed his dark green winter coat and ran to the courtyard. It wasn’t yet morning. Torches were already lit and frantic acolytes were running between their masters delivering messages. The cold of the night bit into Kidu's nostrils as he made his way through the chaos. He draped himself with his embroidered coat and leapt up the stone stairs leading to the inner courtyard.
There were plenty people already there to remind him ask for a closer quarter. He searched through the monks for the trumpet caller.
Pengmou eased his way toward Kidu. He was almost as tall and slender as Kidu, with youthful eyes but also a gray mane befitting his age.
"Master Pengmou," Kidu panted. "Who made the call?"
"Why, I did," Pengmou replied. "Our juniors have watched the gates for so long they've forgotten to blink, much less know the call. I was fetched for, and I made the call."
"Enemies at our door then?"
"Open the gates, but leave the portcullis lowered," Pengmou called out.
Commands were shouted and repeated, and the gate swung open.
“Is that wise? Arrows can be fired through the portcullis.”
“You forget I am a Peer?” Pengmou asked. “I have more experience in these matters. There are no arms we could see from our watch towers, and for anyone to draw and fire through the portcullis, well, I’d like to recruit them for the king’s archers in Ronynhall.”
The creak of the gate subsided to the sound of hooves and neighing from the other side of the gate. Kidu approached the portcullis and saw about a dozen mounted men with several dozen more, standing behind the mounts. They were dressed in furs and their faces wrapped with riding scarves.
"Does this look like enemies at our door?" Pengmou asked.
“The bandits!” Kidu cried.
The monks inside the courtyard stirred from the word and started calling for defensive formations.
One of the horsemen rode up to the portcullis in a black horse with a white headdress. In the torchlight Kidu could see the man’s eyes examining the iron gate. "This is new," the horseman said. His face was covered by a red and yellow scarf. “Did your architect build this metal gate?”
"Riders in the dark," called Pengmou. "What calls you from your mountain caves and brings you to our House? Our two peoples are the opposite ends of a rope, and that rope is already taut. Why are you here if not to snap the rope?"
The rider removed his gloves and held up his bare hands, which was rough and calloused even by torchlight. "We come to you unarmed. The only burdens we bring are our heavy hearts and simple gifts from our lord."
"In any custom a decent greeting includes seeing the face of the one who greets," Kidu called to the rider.
"Forgive my manners," the rider said. He unwound the red scarf from his face. He was weathered from wind and sun but appeared to be very young. His hair was as dark as coal, and he had a scar that ran the length of his right cheek to his chin, drawing a pale line across his uneven black stubble. "I am Sood of the mountain folk. Long have our peoples been in conflict. You have sought order, our peoples have sought liberty. Brandarm, Lord of the Mountain and Wetlands, makes this peace offering: we bear offerings for the people of the House during your time of grief. We have heard news of Master Mazi, a most noble son of the Sankai who is come home to you on the morrow. Know that your sorrow is felt in our master's heart as well, for our lord Brandarm weeps for all children of the Scales."
"Aye," Pengmou said, "though the message of our noble brother's return was carried to us five days hence. What brings you here, on the sixth, if not to disrupt the King's envoy that is due to arrive in the morning? And what grief could your master bear in his heart for a Peer of the Five Houses, sworn to protect the people from the likes of you?"
"Good faith and humility," said Sood. He summoned some men who had been standing behind him. Two men with faces still covered by scarves sauntered over with a freshly stained wooden chest. The chest was laid against the portcullis.
The crowd had grown and the elders had started to arrive. Rengu walked to the gate with an orange shawl draped over his head.
"Uncle," Pengmou started until Rengu waived him off.
Rengu pointed at one of the men. "You there. What is your name?"
The man who carried the chest lowered his head to avoid Rengu's gaze, pulling his scarf up higher on his face until it reached the bottom of his eyes. "Nestat, your excellence."
"What is your profession, Nestat?"
Nestat looked at Sood for permission to answer. Sood nodded. "I am a trainer of horses, Uncle."
"You train the horses but you don't get to ride them, eh?" Rengu said. He pointed to the chest. "Nestat, you open this crate."
Nestat kept his head lowered and walked over to the chest. He lifted the cover and pulled away at the cloth covering the contents of the crate. He reached inside and searched until he removed a small black wooden block. Bowing forward he reached out with both arms extended and offered the wooden block through the iron gate. Pengmou retrieved the block and examined it.
“What is this?” Pengmou asked, handing it to Rengu.
"This is a very old seal that once belonged to my forebears," Rengu said, examining it in the light. "This would have been used during the Second Conquest, over 500 years ago. How came you by this?"
"Alas I can afford no answer, for I do not know it," Sood replied.
“You’ve travelled through the cold dead of night to give a s this gift?” Kidu asked.
"Young Master, this itself is not our lord's gift, for this and many other precious tokens we bring were once yours and was never our lord's to gift. Think then of them rather an act of good faith in returning the artifacts to their rightful station. So then, what is the gift?" Sood summoned Nestat, who retrieved a wooden canister from the crate. Sood dismounted and took the canister, slipping it through the bars of the portcullis it to Rengu.
Rengu opened the end of the canister and extracted the short parchment scroll from within. He read it twice. "This gift of yours…”
Sood removed his scarf and laid it on the ground. It was a red flag with yellow sunbeams, the sigil of the mountain bandits. He kneeled and placed his hands upon his head. His men dismounted and they all kneeled and placed their hands on their heads.
"My lord Brandarm offers surrender," Sood said from his knees. "On the morrow the soldiers of Kienne arrive with the remains of Master Mazi. A terrible loss for not just the SanKai but for the world. My lord knows the swift wrath of the King will be unfurled against all his enemies. We do not pretend to provide any contest for the Kiennese armies, so my lord offers us as your captives, and he trusts that the House treats us less as criminals and more as refugees seeking asylum into Kienne. We will depart these lands forever if you grant us passage."
"We cannot promise you safe passage to Kienne," Rengu said. "We shall treat criminals as their history of crime sees fit."
"This is why we come to you now, on the eve of the King’s own herald’s arrival,” Sood said. “With humility we subject ourselves to the King's trial, not by the prejudice we would only find with the monks.”
Rengu stepped aside for a moment, with Pengmou and Kidu huddling nearby.
“They’re playing a game,” Kidu said.
“And they are eloquently playing it,” Rengu agreed. “Is Father Qizen safe?”
“The Ghost Guard is ever on watch over the Father, but I will send someone to confirm,” Pengmou replied turning to one of the monks nearby.
Dawn began to break. Others were filing in. "We can't allow them to wait here, on their knees can we?" someone asked.
“Diren!” Pengmou called the builder when he spotted him in the crowd. Diren wove his way through the assembly.
“Masters, Uncle.”
"Did Headlander finish the new prison?" Pengmou asked.
"Ruthier? Yes, he just finished it," Diren nodded. "I inspected it not two days ago. It'll hold this lot."
Rengu put his hand on Kidu’s shoulder. “I need to be sure no one is armed.”
“I’ll check, Uncle,” a girls voice came from behind. It was Naja, as spry as the dawn. Naja sprung up the ladder of the watch tower, skipping rungs and climbed into the sentry post. She examined the visitors in the new morning light. "They appear unarmed," she called down.
“She beat you to it,” Pengmou told Kidu.
The sound of quickened marching came from the rear of the line of the kneeled crowd. Soon shouting filled the air.
Rengu looked at Naja who held out her hand. "It is only the Constable and his troop."
Constable Baratis led a procession of white coated officers on both horse and foot. He ordered his men to surround the kneeled bandits with pikes and swords. Baratis marched to the gate.
“Long have we waited for this opportunity,” Baratis said. “These are murderers. One word, and the conflict ends here.”
Rengu pursed his lips. "We cannot deny the King's law, and that includes the right of trial. Raise the gate. Pengmou, help the Constable to move these men to the new prison. They shall await the King's justice in the comfort of unspoiled cells."
