The red cloth signal hung from a post at the riverbank. Yan, Wei, and two scouts reached the road below the storm-barrier city before midday. The bridge keeper had tied the cloth where anyone approaching from the western road could see it.
“Imperial riders took the crossing,” the first scout reported. “They’re searching carts and seizing clinic supplies.”
Yan looked toward the city wall. “They’re near the gate. I’ll go after them.”
Wei checked the map. “Their tracks lead east, toward the bridge. They haven’t gone to the city.”
Yan stopped. “Then we go to the bridge.”
The settlement below the river had no city wall. Sol, the bridge keeper, had gathered local defenders behind two carts. A dozen medicine crates were stacked behind the parapet, with a small handcart pinned against the railing. One imperial rider stood on the bridge, searching a wagon. Another held the reins of three seized pack animals.
Yan opened his Soul-Lantern relay. He had attuned it to a marker on the outer road before the column left White Orchard. A clear image formed beside the signal post, carrying a brief pulse of qi. The projection could send instructions and a warning. It could not hold the bridge against armed riders.
