The first heavy train reached Bracken Weir with mud on every axle and no missing wagon.
Captain Deni Sull walked at its head, carrying her boots.
She stopped beside the yard post, looked at Maret, and asked where people could wash before anyone asked them to unload another thing.
Maret pointed to the crew trough and the covered sleeping room.
Deni nodded.
“Good. Then I’ll show you what you’ve bought.”
The train had left Riven Gate fifty-eight days earlier. It had taken the lower road around East Tooth, waited for the flooded cutting to drain and made two longer service stops when its animals needed more than a handful of fodder thrown beneath a harness. The loads had arrived through the work of people who had been living the route while the expedition read increasingly old reports about them.
Iven liked seeing the actual end of that distance.
