Sect Year 3 · fifth month · day 5 · Azure Stream Sect, the east wall
The fifth month came in wet, and the Qingliu road went to mud in its first week and then to ruts. By the fifth day the ruts had hardened to a brown track that a cart could take.
The wardens had chalked the weeks on the east gatepost, one mark for each rest-day since the ford, and the rain had blurred the marks and the wardens had chalked them again. Seven weeks had gone. The wall had been mended in the meantime, course by course, and Lin had stopped looking at the gatepost. He hadn’t stopped counting in his head.
The top course of the wall had been cut by the outer court in the second month and set in mortar that had not yet gone grey. Pei had re-pointed it herself with a trowel the size of a spoon, complaining the whole time about the cold. The lime bucket by the east stair was the one she had thrown into a masked face at the arch. It had been refilled every week since, and nobody had asked her why.
The riders came up the milestone road at midday in a long grey line. They didn’t hurry. Their bronze masks caught the light, and the bowls pricked at their wrists were plain to see from the low roof wall. Lin saw them before anyone called out.
