Zhen nodded at Wuyi's orders and then spoke. "Just for the sake of conversation," he said, "we could take over the fortress." His smile was transparently empty of guile, like a boy who has just thrown a rock at a hornet's nest and remains unrepentant.
Wuyi nodded. "We could. Hold it for ransom. Sell it to the highest bidder." He sounded wistful. "We could be the baddest. The Warriors of Ill-Repute. Rich. Feared." He shrugged. "This would not achieve the goal I am looking for. Here, we have the opportunity to get the approval of the brotherhood and the king's recommendation."
Zhen nodded. "'About time, Young Master."
"Stow those thoughts, Zhen," Wuyi said. He turned his horse's head, backed his horse a few steps, and looked at the archer commanding the gate. "Open it," he called. "And the Bridge Gate." He turned back to Zhen. "Don't forget to bring healers," he said.
Haoran joined them, mounted on an old horse that had seen better days.
