Deni made Tavin take his hand off the lead wagon.
“You’ve checked the brake,” she said.
“I was checking the pin.”
“You checked the pin before the brake.”
He looked at his hand, removed it, and stepped out of the working lane.
The train had four small wagons, eight draft animals, and eleven people who knew which loads they were responsible for. It would go to the North Shelf stores, fifty-six kilometers from Bracken by the ordinary cart road, collect cured timber, oil, and dry supplies, then return to the near-side bridge yard by a higher loop if the basin air closed.
The ordinary journey needed about ten travel and working days. Safa’s forecast made twelve more likely. The heavier equipment for Rootwell still could not pass through the northern stair. These smaller wagons would supply the lift, the road wall, and the temporary workyard without pretending they had opened the guarded far approach.
Deni had chosen the drivers herself.
