The order came down the causeway at dawn, carried by a Lessaran boy on a grey pony that had plainly been told to walk and had chosen to trot. Lune heard the hooves on the planks before the boy reached the post, and counted them, and got eleven, which was the number of planks between the toll-house and the gate, and which meant the boy had come the whole way on the causeway’s edge, where the planks were worn and the ride was slow.
Hallis read the order aloud at the post’s door. He did it standing, with the paper held out at arm’s length, and his voice had the flat, slightly hoarse sound of a man who had not slept well and had decided to be correct about it in front of his men. The wardens stood in a loose half-circle in the yard. Some of them had their hands on their belts. Most of them were looking at the shed.
“The fragment,” read Hallis, “is released to the Hold’s bargain under the Crown’s watch.”
He stopped there. He looked at the word. Then he read on, more slowly, as though each word had to be reckoned before it could be spoken.
