The second convoy had delivered its food before the soldiers tried to take the carts.
Iven thought that distinction would matter when the orders were read afterward. No urgent hunger stood on the road ahead of them. No trapped patient needed the teams. The six carts had left the Gate on the thousand and third day, reached Slate Orchard on the fourth, returned to Bellcut on the fifth and begun the last eighteen kilometers home this morning.
Their paid owners expected them back.
At the stone bridge west of Bellcut, twelve soldiers blocked the approach beneath the Gate defense council’s mark. A heavy transport chain lay across the road. Beyond it stood a man in dark armor with a broad steel gripping tool over his left-forearm graft.
Cenn stopped beside Iven.
“Captain Arvek Thane.”
“Yours?”
“Council command. Different appointment.”
