The horse bolted when the bridge fight sent a crash echoing down the quarry track.
Yan heard the wagoner shout before he saw the cart swing sideways. The harness twisted around a wheel, and the horse dragged the wagon toward the ravine. One axle lifted from the road. Grain sacks slid against the sideboards.
“Tali, cut it!” Bai called.
Tali drew a knife and sliced the leather strap. The horse broke free and ran down the track. The cart stopped with its wheel hanging over the edge.
Han’s flare had brought Yan from the ridge. He reached the wagon just as the driver and two residents tried to unload it. “Stop. Take the sacks from the uphill side first. Don’t pull against the axle.”
He set his hammer aside and lifted the rear frame. It rose under his hands, but the weight pulled hard against the unstable wheel. Tali placed stones beneath the frame while Bai and the residents unloaded grain. Each sack came off one at a time, and the wagon shifted a little farther from the ravine.
A groan came from the ditch beside the cart. A farmer had been pinned under a fallen beam. His leg was trapped, and one arm pressed against the wet ground. Qinghe was already kneeling near him, but the beam’s bracket had lodged beneath the wheel.
