Rowan was putting the approaches onto a single sheet when someone knocked at the shop door below.
He had left the window open. The sound reached him clearly, followed by Soren answering and a brief exchange he could not make out. Rowan held the corner of the drawing down while the morning air lifted the smaller page beside it. Three people had recorded the same reach from different places. He had walked it with two of them yesterday. Now he could bring their readings together without making the third person's ground disappear.
There was room left for the approach they had not followed. He marked where it began and put down the charcoal.
Soren came to the doorway.
“Thane wants you. There's someone at his room from the Pass.”
“Waiting now?”
“Yes.”
Rowan laid a clean sheet over the drawing. In just over three months, he had acquired people who expected him back. Two households were waiting for him today; they would need word.
He took his notebook from the smaller table.
“Did they say what it was?”
“A party stopped on the road. That's all I heard.”
Rowan looked at the pack beneath the window, then left it where it stood.
Downstairs, Soren was moving a wrapped order from the counter so a customer could set down her basket. Rowan went out past them. The broad street was already busy. At the crossing, two loaded animals had been brought to a halt while someone shifted a cart farther from the turn. He waited for room, then took the way to Thane's.
The rider sat at the end of the table with an empty cup beside him. Mud had dried high on his boots. Thane had opened two sheets, one closely written, the other bearing the station's mark beneath a shorter account.
“This came from Cresting,” he said when Rowan entered. “Read the first one.”
Rowan stood beside the rider and took up the longer sheet. Behind Thane, the wall was crowded with the ground he had brought back from the marsh and the island, the households nearer town and the separate approaches Bren and Tavin used. There was still an empty space beyond the last island reading. He turned from it to the account in his hand.
The trees had fallen across a bend in the maintained road. One had caught the front cart; another lay beyond it, leaving no way to bring the remaining carts through. People could pass where the slope rose beside the obstruction. The party had tried that while the injured were being brought clear.
Three injuries were recorded. One traveler could not put weight on a lower leg. Another had hurt a shoulder badly enough that the arm had been bound against the body. A third had a cut to the head; the bleeding had stopped before the messenger left. The account did not say whether that person remained fully awake afterward.
Below them, the writer had named those staying with the carts and those continuing. All the guards were in the first group.
Rowan checked the day recorded for the fallen trees. Beneath it, another hand had dated the statement's taking at Cresting.
“Six days ago.”
“Three days to get back to Cresting,” Thane said. “He gave the account there, and they copied it for us. Their relief left that day. This rider brought the statement and dispatch note by the upper branch, in three more.”
Rowan turned toward the rider. “You haven't been to the party?”
“No. I left from the station. The man who brought it in stayed to show their people the road.”
“Where did you leave the road?”
“At the upper fork, before the wooded bend. I came over the spur and down to the stream crossing below it.”
Rowan knew the branch. It added ground to the journey, but a rider with a small bag could take it where a laden cart had to follow the longer turns. It crossed the spur without reaching the higher pass. The main road and its bend lay out of sight beneath the trees.
“How was the descent?”
“Slow over the stones. Clear enough after that. I changed mounts below the crossing.”
Rowan looked again at the names. “They sent him back while the others were leaving?”
“That's what he said. The officer wanted those who could travel to go on. They meant to meet again at the island.”
Thane moved the shorter sheet toward him. Cresting had sent a practitioner accustomed to traveling care, two wardens and people to carry supplies. They had taken bedding, food, tools and a loaded animal, with arrangements to bring the injured back if the road could not be opened. The writer had put down when they left.
Rowan laid the sheet beside the first. Cresting’s relief might be there now.
“No message from the relief,” Thane said. “I've only their departure.”
Six days could change what a guarded, provisioned camp needed.
“And the people who continued?” Rowan asked.
Thane brought out the movement notice that had preceded the retinue. Rowan had seen its entry while choosing his next stretch of work. An advance officer and the people preparing the new commander's reception were traveling through the Glenn toward its southern island station, then farther across the Wild Straights. The commander himself was not with them. Neither was the ambassador whose arrangements occupied the last part of the notice.
“They were due at the landing four days ago,” Thane said. “The contact there was expecting to pass their account to us before they took the southern road.”
“At the road junction?”
“Yes. They needn't come into town. The man waiting there hasn't seen them, and there's no entry in the movement book. I asked this morning. I've asked at the other approaches as well.”
The onward party should have reached the landing before this message reached the Glenn.
“They could have changed the way they came down,” he said.
“They could. Or stopped again.”
The rider shifted in his chair. “The man at Cresting saw them going by the higher ground. The officer didn't want to wait on the carts. He couldn't tell me where they went after that.”
Rowan nodded and put the notice down.
Thane drew the nearer map clear of the sheets. The maintained road ran beneath the first range, turned through the trees and descended toward the lower valley. Rowan found the bend from the messenger's description. He had used this road before his survey, though not recently enough to know what had changed beside it.
“Here?” Thane asked.
“That fits the stream and the rise. About two days out from here with what we'll need to carry.”
“Can an animal get round it?”
“I don't know. People have. That doesn't give us room for a loaded animal.” Rowan put the point of his pencil above the road, where the account said they had climbed. “I'd take the supplies to the nearer ground and see it before putting them onto the slope.”
Thane looked at the approach. “I can send someone south while you go up. Ask at the landing places and the island station. If they reached it, I want their departure and arrival days.”
“And word of this, so they aren't waiting for the whole party.”
“Yes.”
He set a blank sheet beside the notice and began the message. Rowan copied the obstruction's description into his notebook, including the point where the messenger's observations ended.
“Bren is in today,” Thane said. “Would you take him?”
“If someone can cover the households he has arranged.”
“I'll settle that.”
“He knows what we can move with a small party. Another pair of hands for the loads, and someone to assess the injuries.”
“I'll ask Irma what she can arrange.”
“I'll go to her.” Rowan closed the notebook. “What they've named may be enough for the first load. She needs to read the account herself.”
Thane gave him a copy and kept the covering sheet at the table. The rider was rubbing one knee through his trousers.
“Stay here until you've eaten,” Thane told him. “Then I may need you to show someone where you changed mounts.”
The man looked at Rowan. “You're leaving today?”
“Once we're ready.”
At Irma's, a woman was sitting beside the window with one foot raised on a stool. Irma had a strip of cloth laid across her knee. She looked up when Rowan came to the door, then finished securing it before standing.
“Give her a moment to try that,” she told him. “You can wait here.”
Rowan remained clear of the doorway while the woman stood and took a few steps. She spoke quietly to Irma, sat again and reached for her shoe. When she left, Irma put the unused cloth back on the shelf and turned to him.
“Thane's sent?”
“I've an older account from the mountain road.”
He gave it to her. She read standing by the table, the paper held flat beneath one hand. At the date, she went back to the first injury.
“Who wrote this?”
“A traveler sent back for aid. He reached Cresting three days after leaving the others. They've sent a relief party from there. No word of its arrival yet.”
“And you're taking more.”
“With someone who can decide what the people need now.”
Irma read the head injury again. “He says the bleeding stopped. That tells us very little about the days afterward.”
“Nothing newer.”
“I'll ask Phia. She knows head wounds, and she's helped bring people down from the ridges before. I have people coming here this afternoon.”
“We mean to leave before then.”
Irma looked up again, her eyes catching Rowan’s. “Then I'll send to her now.”
Irma called someone passing and sent a message to Phia’s house.
Irma turned to the part recording what the party had retained. She marked the bedding with her finger, then took a clean sheet from beneath her book.
“We'll take dry cloth and things that can be used without a fire, as well as what they can heat. If that shoulder is still as he found it, carrying may be harder than walking for some of the others.”
Rowan drew the approach on the paper she gave him.
“There was a wider place below the turn,” he said. “It might serve for a rest before the next stretch. We'll have to check the edge and the room for turning.”
“Check it with room for a litter.”
“I will.”
Irma took two folded lengths of cloth from a lower shelf. They laid out supplies that could travel separately if the animals had to wait below the trees.
By the time Phia arrived, he had a route sketch and the beginning of a load list. She set her fastened bag beside the table, read the account and asked Irma what she had put aside for the shoulder. Then she drew the sketch toward her. “If we have to carry someone round the trees, keep enough hands free to do it. We can leave tools below. We can't leave the people halfway.”
Rowan changed the loads while they went over the supplies. Irma added a narrow packet; Phia heard what was inside and put it into her own bag.
When the list was settled, Rowan went to the stores.
Bren was choosing rope. He held two lengths side by side, then put one back.
“I've heard,” he said. “Which road?”
Rowan spread the sketch on the bench. The man looked at the bend and then at the account's description below it.
“Not the way you surveyed.”
“No. The maintained road. We need to get there with the load.”
“I've been to that rise more recently. We can bring an animal there. Beyond it, we'll have to see.”
Bren chose a saw and tools for the smaller branches. “We can work the timber once we see how it lies,” he said. “I want the saw for what’s caught against it.” Rowan added the smaller spade to the roll. Between their workings and the tools, they could open the road; the broken cart and the injured people would need their own decisions.
“I'll find someone for the other animal,” Bren said, and went out to the yard.
Phia met him outside the stores. “Irma's sending the rest over. Have you enough ash?”
“Enough for the road. I'd rather take more.”
“Then we'll go to Mare.”
Mare was weighing something onto a folded paper when they entered. She finished, gave it to the waiting man and listened while Phia told her where they were going. Rowan put the copied account on the counter. Mare read the injuries before looking at the date.
“Six days.” She set the paper down. “I'll get my bag.”
“One elder is enough,” Phia said.
Mare looked from her to Rowan. “Do you know whether their healer has reached them?”
“Only that the party left Cresting,” he said.
“Then send word as soon as you do.” She turned to the shelves instead of the inner door. “What have you brought?”
Phia named the things Irma had packed. Mare added clean cloth and a small wrapped preparation for keeping hands clean where water was scarce. Rowan asked for ash; she filled a second pouch, keeping the mouth of it clear as she tied it, then a second smaller pouch, which she held and closed her eyes briefly before handing everything over. Phia took the cloth, Rowan the pouches.
“Leave me someone to trouble here,” Mare said.
“Irma has an afternoon full of them.”
“That should do.” Mare pushed the account back toward Rowan. “Go before those days become another.”
Phia took the supplies to the yard. Rowan went home while the animals were being loaded.
Soren was alone at the counter now, sorting the pieces that had come in with the morning's customer. He looked up when Rowan entered.
“How far?”
“Two days up the maintained road. Trees across it, with people injured beyond them. We haven't heard anything newer than the first account.”
“You're going today?”
“As soon as the supplies are ready.”
Soren set down the piece in his hand. “Do you know when you'll be back?”
“Not yet. Cresting has sent help as well. We have to see what can be moved and which way it should go.”
“Then leave me word through Thane when you can.”
“I will. He’d tell you either way.”
Upstairs, Rowan opened his pack on the bed. Blank sheets went into the road cover with the approach sketch, the smaller notebook beside his ash and fine cord. Yesterday’s field sheets stayed on the table.
Soren opened the inner door and brought the cloak Rowan had left to dry there the evening before. He spread it across a chair while Rowan checked the lower buckle.
“I thought we were going to hear them again tonight,” Soren said.
“So did I.”
“I'll go, if the shop lets me finish.”
Rowan looked up. “Tell me if they've changed that turn.”
Soren smiled. “I might have remembered it wrongly.”
“Then you'll know.”
The larger drawing remained under its clean sheet. He would leave it there. On his table there was also the little boat view he had begun before moving in. Soren had seen it finished; Rowan had kept the earlier attempt beneath it.
“The two households I was going to see today will get word,” he said. “If anyone comes here looking for me, Thane has the account.”
“I'll send them there.”
Rowan fastened the pack. Soren walked downstairs with him and opened the door. Rowan looked back before stepping into the street, then went to meet the others.
At the stores, the first loaded animal stood beside the yard wall. The other was being brought across with empty bags. Phia had laid her own kit where it would be carried by hand. She showed Rowan which of the supplies she wanted nearest it, then moved the rest herself while Bren kept the animal steady.
Oris, the man coming with the second animal, knew the road as far as the overnight stopping place. He had brought food and a tool roll, and asked whether he should carry anything before they started. Rowan gave him the smaller saw. The load that had looked modest on the bench was more awkward once the blankets and cloth were added; they shifted it until neither side pulled against the other's tie.
Thane came out with a folded copy of the southern message.
“It's gone,” he said. “They'll ask at the other landings on the way. Someone is covering your households tomorrow.”
“And today?”
“They've been told.”
Rowan put the copy with his route sketch. Thane gave Phia the station’s dispatch note.
“Send back when you know.”
“Yes.”
Bren took the first animal's lead. Rowan followed him through the yard gate. At the road, they waited for a cart to pass before turning north.
They had daylight enough to reach the first stopping place. Rowan looked toward the trees above the town, placing the next rise and the road beyond it, then lengthened his stride to come beside the warden.