Outside, the sun was shining as a breeze, just strong enough to be relieving, lifted the manes of the horses and mules in a comfortable, playful dance. It rippled through Kyo's dark hair and fluttered the fabric of his trousers, but against his chest he could not feel it. The tough, thick leather that protected his torso didn't allow even a whisper of wind through as he stepped out into the sunlit square, where Irithoi, his brother Isran, and their small band of regular employees were ushering the many animals and carts and wagons into a functioning, orderly line.
As the swordsman watched, there didn't seem to be any particular order. Whenever a person or group was ready to move, one of the caravan men just corralled them into line with the others. Seeing has he was only a man with no wagon or animal to pull beside him, Kyo simply became another small part of the amalgam of bodies forming up. Once a sizable group had been established, he saw Irithoi climb on his horse and ride ahead. A moment later, the column started moving. If they wanted any of the hired swords -- or blades, more generally; there was a large tree trunk of a man some ways ahead of him that carried a notched two-handed axe -- in any particular place, none of the leaders made any move to organize them such. So Kyo hitched the strap of his pack higher on his shoulder, put foot to pavement, and began the journey to Ryuu-Tokai with no particular rush. With little desire to be at the front of the column and even less to be caught with the stragglers, the swordsman was content to maintain his place in the shifting, vacillating center as the shops and houses that lined the main street of Akebono wandered past.