It was a lovely late-spring morning. There was a low fog, and Master Zhenying looked out at it for a moment , enjoying his wine. He waved to Jin, who was fussing with his falcons, and found young Dujuan to get armed.
While he was still getting his arm protector on, the large bell sounded. Before the bell had stopped ringing, he was on the curtain wall of the Bridge Castle with the apprentince. The bridge was still down, and although the bridge gates were closed and heavily barred, it was still the hope of every merchant in the lower fortress that more survivors would stumble in from the Wild – despite all evidence to the contrary.
Jin had a trio of big hawks with him, and from time to time he flew one away into the morning light. He wasn't much of a conversationalist – mostly he spoke to the hawks, murmuring to them in much the same language that Zhenying's daughters spoke to their dolls. Two archers assisted him.
