Han’s contingency map lay open across the route council table. Two stones held its curled corners flat. Blue lines marked river crossings, food stores, and lantern relays. A new strip of paper had been pinned over the lower road, where the northern scouts had seen an imperial detachment.
Wei stood beside the table. “The inland trail is longer, but the first scouts say it avoids the lower road. We’ll send a second team to check it before the convoy moves.”
Yan looked at the winding line. He had treated the inland route as a fallback because it added hours. “I thought that ford was too shallow for the supply carts.”
“The first team says it may be passable,” Oren replied. “They haven’t taken a cart across yet.”
One of the guides pointed to the map with a piece of charcoal. “This is the Stone Ford. My family calls it the Split Bank.”
Another guide frowned. “The Split Bank is half a day east. This is Reed Ford.”
Oren drew the paper closer. “If we send the supply carts to the wrong one, they’ll reach the lower road.”
Yan gave each guide a pencil. “Mark the crossing in your own handwriting. Don’t copy the other label.”
