Leth heard the cart before she saw it.
There was a particular scrape to the collection frame when its iron shoes crossed the outpost’s stone track. She had heard that scrape before dawn often enough to recognize it through a closed clinic door. This morning she put down her cup, took her cane and went outside without fastening her coat.
The frame was moving toward the basin.
Four strangers walked beside it. The driver had stopped near the turning post while Perin stood in front of the team with both hands visible.
“You can argue from there,” Perin was saying. “The animals can rest.”
The strangers’ leader, a narrow man with an old burn across his neck, held a work order. He looked more tired than belligerent.
“We’ve been paid to set it in position.”
“By whom?” Leth asked.
