Sect Year 4 · second month · day 8 · the new ford, at the rail, morning
Just after the bells of the upper houses had rung the morning in, the rider came down the far bank from the Tarn Mouth road. Lin saw him first from the rail above the trough. He was a young man on a grey horse, with the Registry’s oilcloth bag strapped behind his saddle and his cap pulled low against the wind. He reined in at the water’s edge and sat a moment, looking at the ford as if he had been told about it and had not believed the account. Then he put the horse to the first slab.
The children at the trough stopped drinking to watch. The grey horse picked its way over the stones with its head low and its ears flat, and the water came up to its knees and then fell back. The rider did not hurry it. When he reached the north side he dismounted on the shingle and unbuckled the bag, and he came up the bank toward the rail with a sealed packet in one hand and a folded sheet in the other.
“For the checker,” he said, and held out the packet to Jiang, who had come from the Registry table with the black book under her arm. She took it without a word and tucked it under her coat.
