First there were whispers and a rushing to find a place to stand in time for the envoy’s arrival. Then the faint sound of drums could be heard. Slow and measured, like a sad, yearning heart. Then the whispers gave way to quiet as the crowd stood where they were as the drums neared. 

Kidu had put on a simple cloak as he stood at the balcony on the upper floors of the Library. From here he would be able to directly see the procession as it crossed the Tower Bridge. There were lines on both side of the bridge. Many wore black in mourning. 

Beside him were Timlan and Naja, both whom were wearing the ceremonial monk’s uniform, also in black. They had the traditional large cedar prayer beads around their necks, each bead neatly as large as a hen’s egg, and each etched with words from the Water Chapter from the Book of Five. 

Earlier Timlan and Naja were already standing at the balcony by the time Kidu arrived. Their eyes were red from a morning of weeping, Kidu noticed. He realized later everyone else had been weeping also. He pondered on why he hadn’t wept yet. 

The drums drew closer. They were around the bend, just before the bridge. They were obscured by several buildings on the other side of the river. 

Kidu's face was numb as he stood facing the cold at the balcony beside Timlan and Naja.  First came a pair of messengers, dressed in the same uniform as the messenger that arrived six days ago to deliver the news of Mazi’s death. Behind them the stream of soldiers marched. 

Dense dark clouds hung over the Kiennese soldiers as they marched to the slow beating of drums.  Standard bearers flew the flag of Angshar, black with a white hand, beside the flag of Kienne, white with a green trim, a gold laurel and a rising red sun over the sea.  The soldiers wore silver armor with green cloaks and golden half helms. A single drummer marched with them. 

Forty men marched in two lines, followed by a pair of draft horses that pulled an adorned caravan with the top removed.  For all to see, dressed in orange and black and covered from the torso down by a white shroud with the Angshar hand.  His face was covered with a white death mask, and his neck was bound by an orange and white scarf.  Around his body were white flowers, probably gardenias as far as Kidu could tell. Kidu felt a chill, not from the cold but from something else that froze his bones. The most famous son of the SanKai had returned to the Scales.

Trailing the caravan rode several men on horses.  A white palfrey bore King Gordyn's herald Menquist.  The herald wore a thin blue shawl over his head that did nothing to cover the completely gray hair that was combed neatly and fastened by a long braid.  The long gray beard streaked with white was also fastened into a single braid that hung to his belt.  Aside from the blue shawl and an orange undercoat, Menquist was completely gray, covered by a dull wool cloak.  He held his reigns in one hand and his cap in the other as his horse trotted to the drums.

Kidu looked around and saw the others around him continuing to weep and uttering soft prayers.  Kidu could only watch and wished his eyes also welled up, but he felt nothing stir within him.  The truth was that he didn't really know Mazi, even though the two of them were from the same house and considered Rengu as their Master. Mazi appeared infrequently as far as Kidu remembered, and when he did appear he only spoke with the Uncles before disappearing again for months or years.  

Kidu did remember once that he could swear Mazi was watching him. He must have been ten at the time, and already holding his own against some of the men in skill in the martial arts. He was sparring at the Columns, the training ground consisting of logs of different height stood at the end. To spar, the competitors hopped from log to log, figuring out the constantly shifting advantages and disadvantages of upper and lower ground. It was a strategic exercise also, like chess, as the competitors sparred they were also looking to either make moves to more advantageous spots or preventing the other from getting to those spots. 

Kidu was certain Mazi was watching his sparring match after it was well known how fast Kidu was learning the martial arts. Kidu tried to show how great he really could be, and even if it meant taking chances, he would look great in front of Mazi and the Uncles. He ignored the lower ground and took a risk in trying a leg sweep technique, hoping it would confuse his opponent. It didn’t. The maneuver allowed his opponent to side step to even higher ground and simply knock Kidu off his log. 

He fell, and felt so embarrassed for taking such a risk. He had one chance to impress Master Mazi and he had ruined it. When he looked over to Mazi, the Master had turned his back toward the sparring match. He had started walking away with one of the Uncles. For the next ten years, Kidu never saw him again. 

A light rain began as if the god Angshar himself was weeping. He thought of a passage from the Water Chapter:

Angshar does not heal; he holds. The greater the pain, the closer the embrace. 

Once the body had crossed the bridge, Kidu turned away from the procession. Without a word to Timlan nor Naja, he descended the stairs. He tried to walk around the mourners in their outfits of black and white without disturbing them. There was still great quiet in the city, except for the drums and the horses’ hooves against the cobblestone. 

Kidu kept his gaze down to avoid looking at the faces.  The last thing he wanted was for anyone to wonder why he was not expressing the same type of grief as everyone else. For as long as he could remember, he was compared to Mazi. The next great Peer of Angshar. There are as a connection between them that others had created, whether he wanted it or not.

The envoy moved north through the streets. The crowd would be following the procession soon to the crypt where Mazi would be laid to rest. He knew that after the body was placed in the crypt, there would be a gathering at the main prayer hall. While the crowd started shifting one direction, Kidu moved alone to a different direction. 

Kidu felt a bit relieved to be away from the crowd. It reminded him of his dream, underwater, unable to breathe and surrounded by faces he couldn’t look at. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he exhaled. For a moment thought of the ceremony a long time ago when the king died, when he was a child on Rengu's lap.  He listened to the slow drum behind him. Then a slow bell echoed over the city.  Kidu opened his eyes and spun around. He looked up to the Hearth Tower and saw that the beacon had been lit.