The first grain came in gray sacks with Hearth’s mill mark stitched into the seams.
Iven watched the cage rise from the lower freight station, slow against the escarpment. Borin stood at the drive with Tem. The flywheel ran evenly behind its guard. At the upper yard a receiving crew waited with scales, clean pallets and a sheet large enough to read without crowding the table.
Eighteen tons. Not a city’s future. A first shipment purchased, carried and present.
Seven days had passed since Elian received his father’s letter. The purchase authority had become an order. The order had become grain in a warehouse, then loads on actual wagons. Carriers had been paid, road holds allowed for, space cleared at the Sill. Now the first cage reached the landing and stopped.
The waiting workers went forward.
No one cheered. They had a full shift ahead and a second cage already being loaded below. Nessa watched the yard’s pedestrian lane while Anet checked the moving gate. A freight porter called the weight. Another read it back. The sacks went onto the clean pallets without being dragged across the stone.
Iven stood where Borin had asked him to stand, ready to help at the coupling if the drive needed adjustment. It did not. After the third cage he left the machinery crew their work and joined the porters.
