The white cloth appeared at the north entrance just after dawn.
Iven saw it between two roof posts: raised, lowered, raised again. Vela’s agreed sign. The inner loading bay remained clear on its original foundation. The household’s separate exit was open. Yara’s party had reached the walking approach by the long upper route after leaving before midnight.
He put his left foot against the starting block.
The distance to the bay had been measured. Thirty-eight meters, with sound floor at the end and room for the two steps that would finish his arrival. The drain cover lay to the right. Spare braces blocked the nearer square facing the broken bridge.
He could see all of it now.
Behind him, Neri’s people waited under cover. Ahead, the two bolt throwers stood beneath their new screen. The old bridge’s surviving rib curved across the ravine, narrow, fractured, and useless as a path.
Iven raised his voice.
“Clear the mounts. Keep the north door open.”
