The bridge was almost clear. Han counted the defenders beside her and saw two wounded soldiers waiting for a stretcher. She ordered them carried first and sent the final guide toward the west bank.
Oren’s message came back through a runner. The families and clinic carts were safe at the mill. The message did not say that Jue’s force had left; it said only that the road behind Han was now under enemy control.
Han looked at the two wounded men. One could hold his legs straight but could not put weight on them. The second kept asking where the medic had gone. She gave each a short answer and told the stretcher team to bring them across in turn.
The first wounded man tried to help the carriers lift him. His leg buckled before they had him clear of the stones.
“Stop,” Han said. “Let the frame take your weight.”
“I can walk.”
“You can walk when the medic says so. Right now you can keep both hands on the rail.”
The man frowned but obeyed. The second patient watched him, then began to breathe more evenly. Han crouched long enough to check the blanket had not caught beneath the stretcher. She knew both soldiers by name. She used the first man’s to get his attention and the second’s to keep him looking toward the west bank rather than the blade.
