Sect Year 2 · fifth month · day 4 · the milestone camp above Sallow Basin · night
The night wind came off the basin with grit in it and rattled the thorn stalks against the stones. The grey mule had been hobbled at the far end of the camp, and the carter slept beside it under a sack, his bound hands tucked into his armpits. He had said he would stay until the road was passable, which he said the way other men say the weather. Su had taken the lamp to the cart. Lin could see her there, bent over the record with the flame turned low.
Pei sat close to the fire with the wax cake balanced on one knee. She had a bone metal pen in her fist, the kind the carter used to mark his sacks, and her tongue was caught between her teeth. She had been at it since the evening meal. The strokes were small and careful and they went in deep. Lin could hear each one, a faint dry scrape like a mouse working at a sack.
He sat across the flames with his back against the milestone’s base and his left hand in his lap. There, the fire could reach it. The cold in the hand was slower to leave tonight. He tried to close the fingers and got three of them. He didn’t try again.
