Edmon and Kidu stayed the night at the loft of the Fatted Poult. Edmon read his Opus of Spring by candlelight, while Kidu thumbed through the Book of Five that Master Rengu had given him before he left the Scales. The night was quiet and still, but before morning came, the stirring began. The sounds began as a breathless murmurs in the street, then panting and sharp words as the folk started jostling one another. Shouting began, and shrieks echoed down several streets. Edmon strained until he heard what he had been waiting for: "The Gildemanse has fallen!"

Angry and confused voices continued, followed by a calm voice settling the anxious voices down.

"We should go," Edmon said, straining to listen to the voices. "The people will be leaving the city soon."

Kidu bore their belongings in a pack and they left the Fatted Poult. Dawn was breaching and the street lamps were snuffed out. People rushed past them, bumping elbows and hardly anyone offered any excuse-me’s. Edmon grabbed the arm of one of the men passing by.

"Where is everyone headed?" he asked.

"Didn't you hear?" the man gasped. "The capital was attacked and foreigners took over. They're coming this way next, and then it’s Kienne. They say there's no place to go except north."

Edmon and Kidu glanced at each other. The man shuffled away with the crowd.

“Wait here,” Kidu said and disappeared into the city streets.

Edmon lit his pipe and watched the people move by. It reminded him of watching debris float along the Holyfell River when it flooded several years ago. Things bumped into each other as they spun and flopped and jostled their way along the flow of water. He took a soft puff from his pipe and let the smoke linger in his closed mouth.

After several minutes as morning light flooded the walkways, Kidu returned on a horse drawn cart with an old man smoking on a long handled pipe, with two small twin girls wrapped in knit blankets beside him. Bundled at the rear of the cart were several boxes bound by rope.

"This is Thierry and his granddaughters Hilary and Honary," Kidu introduced the company to Edmon. "We've been hired to protect them during the journey north, for the simple fee of a ride on their cart. A fair bargain, don't you think?”

"A pleasure to meet you all," Edmon said, "but the cart is crowded as is. There's barely room for anyone else, and you wouldn't have the poor horse pull all of us."

"That's why I will walk," Kidu said, hopping off. Kidu helped Edmon climb onto the cart, where he settled in next to Thierry. Hilary sat between Thierry's knees while Honary sat between the two men.

"Grateful for the help," Thierry said, chewing on his pipe. "Everyone is nervous about the invaders moving toward Bannngtown next, and I'm not as young as I used to be. I appreciate the added help in moving me and my girls. Though I expected two strapping lads to watch and care for my cargo."

"I'm the watcher," Edmon said. "He's the careful one."

The wagon veered off the gravel road into main street where the wagon moved quicker along the paved stones. The crowd formed and the main street became congested. Some asked the old man Thierry to allow them to board. The old and weak were difficult to turn away, but Edmon took the end of his cane and kept the crowd at bay. "We're not even out of the gates yet," Thierry sighed.

"Banningtown is nearly five hundred miles from the Gildemanse," Edmon said. "Why do people think this city is next?"

"That's the information we got, early this morning," Thierry said. "There was a meeting last night, they said. Governor Fearghas was there, saying that the foreigners surprised the king, and there's no telling when they are surprising us next. That they might already be here, and the best place to go was past the Yghr's mountains because the foreigners don't want anything from the Yghrs. They said the Yghrs have already worked out a deal with the governor to take us until everything is sorted out."

Kidu looked at Edmon from the ground. "Looks like information moves fast."

Stolen novel; please report.

"Faster than politics, that’s for certain," Edmon nodded. He removed his Kiennese office pin from his lapel and rubbed on the gold leaves with a red sun behind it. He slipped it into his satchel. "Let us be wary of the Yghrs at the border."

They continued their slow crawl up the street. "There are no city guards," Kidu later noticed.

"The governor's called them to arms, and they're meeting the enemy head on, is what I heard was discussed at last night's meeting," Thierry said, puffing smoke. "Say what you will about the other governors, but Governor Fearghas has the interest of the whole Republic in his heart. He's of the brave sort. He's probably riding out with a thousand swords swinging as we speak. He'll keep us safe. Have you met him, sir?"

"How would a governor with a thousand swords come to meet a commoner like me?" Edmon asked, eying the city gate as they neared.

The old man was quiet and minded the steering of his horse, for which Edmon was grateful. A pair of city officials guided the crowd through the giant red gates. When they spilled out onto the Key, the crowd loosened and the river of refugees flooded north toward the Old War Road. Some still tried to beg to get onto the cart, but Edmon kept them away.

It was a short distance down the Key to the Old War Road, a massive road about thirty feet wide of large stone slabs on top of layers of sand, gravel, mortar, and crushed rock. Edmon thought of what Singis had said about the old steel rails she had found on the road in the far western reaches. Once the escaping citizens reached the Old War Road, they turned right to go East, up a short hill until they reached the road into the Smote. First they had to pass through the base of the Crow's Ridge. Before they did that, they had to make their way through over a hundred Red Guard of Isimil, positioned at the mouth of the road with spears and swords pointed at the refugees.

By the time Edmon and Kidu arrived at the border, the refugees were already arguing and pleading with the captain of the Red Guard.

"That's rubbish, no one brokered any deal for Aredunians to enter the Smote!" the captain shouted. "Who leads you here?"

"No one led us," someone shouted. "We're leaving the city before it gets sacked!"

"Why is the Smote turning us away?"

One of the Yghrs in a red coat trotted up to the captain and whispered into his ear. The captain nodded and turned to instruct his men. Some of his men grunted in agreement and trotted back with the red coated Yghr.

"We've long been friend to Aredun, this is true," the captain said. "But Banningtown serves as the crossroad for all sorts of people. We will offer you solace, but all who enter the Smote must first surrender any arms, and we will then separate you between Aredunians and outsiders. We will take you to safety, though in different caravans."

Though most of the refugees had no arms, those who did had to lay their weapons and armor at their feet to be collected by the Red Guard. The guard inspected their papers and sent them to different lines.

"You're not Aredunian," one of the guards said to Kidu without even asking for papers. “You will board that caravan.”

"And what of my companions?" he asked.

The guard looked at Edmon and his cane, then at the old man. "They're taking the other caravan."

"We travel together, I was hired to care for them."

"They're bound for a camp we’ll be making for Aredunians," the guard explained. "It’s a short ride from here. Others are to be taken to Isimil, where our Magister will figure out what to do with you. They'll be safe, I promise you."

"Isimil," Edmon said, looking at Kidu. "We travel together, as my friend has said. We will all go to Isimil."

The guard laughed, and others joined in. "I'll send your friend and the two girls to Isimil, if you want. We're not sending you and the old man there."

Kidu looked at the line going to Isimil. Young men and women, boys and girls. There were no cripples with canes or old men in line. "I'm going to the Aredunian camp," he told the guards. "None of us are taking that caravan."

"If you want to pass our borders you are getting on that caravan," the guard commanded, placing his hand on Kidu's right shoulder.

Kidu eyed the hand and glanced at a second guard reaching out to him. He grabbed the wrist with his left hand, pivoted and grabbed the other guard's wrist with his right. With one pressing motion both guards were on their knees. "I’ll try to not snap your wrists," Kidu said, holding both guards down, "but we are all going together."

The Red Guard gathered around Kidu with their swords.

"Kidu!" Edmon shouted. "It needn't go this way. We owe Thierry and his granddaughters solace."

"I'm not afraid of these swords," Kidu said, his eyes focused on the tips of the dozen swords.

"No of course you're not," Edmon said. "They may be pointed at you, but they are intended for all the refugees here, if you do not yield. This is the Red Guard; remember their mood against dissenters."

Kidu took his eyes from the swords and looked at Edmon, on top of the horse cart. "But Menquist said to be by your side at all times."

"Then come find me," Edmon said. "Else I will come find you.”

Kidu sighed in a way that reminded him of his master Rengu. He released the two guards and held his hand up. He turned to face Edmon and Thierry.

“The girls go with their grandfather,” Kidu said.

“Fine,” the captain barked. As they led Kidu away, he walked backwards still looking at Edmon.