Chapter 205: The River Road

The graft had kept its first leaf. Luke spotted it as soon as they reached Sella’s bench during their next supervised dive. The pale leaf stood clear of the damp wrapping now, and a second tip pressed against the seam beside it. Lauren found the pot by the trough’s edge and touched the exposed rootstock while Luke leaned close enough to inspect the join.

"It hasn’t loosened," she said. "There’s still flow reaching the seed."

Sella set a watering can beside them. "Then leave the support where it is. A little growth doesn’t mean it can hold itself yet."

Lauren withdrew her hand rather than adjusting anything. The cultivation message still required maturation, and Oracle’s Heartwood remained unchanged. She asked Sella to keep the pot in its sheltered place, then turned toward Luke.

"We have almost the whole session left. Where are we going?"

Luke had heard wooden weapons striking together beyond the nursery wall. Now someone shouted for a wagon to be moved, followed by a horse’s impatient snort. He looked toward the gate.

"What’s next door?"

"The carters’ yard," Sella said. "They hire guards for the short runs. Speak to Harl before you accept anything. He’ll tell you which roads are worth your time."

Luke checked their map. The nearby southern roads lay inside the region already approved for ordinary quests, and the nursery visit had barely used five minutes. He offered Lauren his arm. They followed the nursery wall to the adjoining yard, where a groom waved them clear of a wagon backing into the entrance.

Wagons crowded the yard, some loaded beneath canvas and others resting empty beside stacks of barrels. Beyond them, two young guards practiced with wooden swords on a patch of packed sand. One attacked so enthusiastically that his opponent stepped aside and let him run into the fence.

The guard disentangled his sword from the slats while an older man sitting on a wagon’s tailboard continued eating an apple. Luke winced when a broken piece of fence fell into the sand.

"Fence won," the man said. "Try the person next time."

Lauren laughed softly beside Luke. He approached the wagon and asked for Harl, and the man raised the apple in acknowledgment. Luke introduced himself and Lauren before explaining why they had come.

"Sella sent us. We’re looking for a short run."

Harl looked over their equipment, pausing on Luke’s spear and Lauren’s blindfold. His faded leather coat had been patched beneath both arms, and a plain sword rested against the wheel within reach.

"Low Mill and back. Empty grain sacks out, flour coming in. We stay on the river road, and the last patrol came through this morning."

"How long?"

"Half an hour on the road. Loading depends on whether the miller decides to talk."

They had enough time for the run with a comfortable margin. Luke asked about recent trouble before checking the payment, and Harl pointed toward a notice beside the gate.

"Petty theft, mostly. Someone waits until the driver climbs down and helps himself at the back. I want a pair who can watch both ends."

"I can handle the spear," Luke said. "Lauren can warn us about things that haven’t happened yet."

Harl addressed her directly. "How far ahead?"

"Usually seconds. I can’t watch the entire journey continuously, and I don’t have ordinary sight beneath this."

She touched the blindfold rather than letting him guess. Harl studied the narrow space between two loaded wagons, then nodded toward the broader lane beside his own.

"You’d ride unless we needed to stop. Tell me what you need to move safely, and don’t promise warnings you can’t give."

"I’ll need to know how the wagon is laid out."

"I can show you that. First, I want to see whether your partner knows where the end of his weapon is."

Harl tossed the apple core into a bucket and stood. Luke followed him toward the sand while Lauren stopped beside the fence, where he placed her hand against an unbroken section. She kept her fingers there while Luke left his own spear beside the rack and accepted a wooden practice weapon.

Harl took a training sword from the rack. "No head strikes. A clean touch ends it. This is for control, so leave anything destructive out."

"I’m only using a perception skill."

"Use it. I need to see how you actually fight."

Luke settled into his stance. The practice spear was lighter than his own, but its length was close enough that he needed only a small adjustment. Harl waited until he was ready. Then he advanced without raising the sword above his waist.

Truth Behind Motion sharpened the movement of Harl’s knees and shoulders. Luke watched the weight move toward the front foot and placed the spear point in the space Harl needed to enter. The swordsman stopped just outside its reach, then began moving sideways. Luke matched him without crossing his feet, following with the point and keeping Harl away from his hands. A small smile appeared beneath the older man’s graying beard.

Harl struck the shaft. Luke redirected the spear instead of wrenching it back. The wooden point returned toward Harl’s chest, but the swordsman was already moving away from that line. Luke saw the change and followed too far with his arms.

The training sword tapped his ribs. Harl stepped back immediately. Luke looked down at where it had touched, annoyed because he had seen the movement and still failed to stop it.

"You reached," Harl said.

Luke drew the spear back into guard. "I moved the point and left my feet behind."

"Show me again."

This time, Luke did not try to recover the first attack all the way to Harl’s chest. When the sword knocked his point aside, he moved his rear foot and brought the shaft across the space opening beside his ribs. Harl’s next step met wood instead of an exposed side.

The contact jarred Luke’s hands, but he kept the spear between them. Harl shifted around the shaft, searching for the close distance he had reached before. Luke gave ground in a short step rather than turning the exchange into a pushing match. As Harl followed, the practice point settled against his coat. Luke stopped it there, and Harl lifted his sword away.

"Who taught you?"

"Elias Mercer."

"Don’t know him." Harl returned the sword to the rack. "You kept me out that time. On the road, keep anyone climbing aboard away from the load."

Luke returned the practice weapon and retrieved his own spear before going back for Lauren. She took his arm while Harl led them through the yard.

At the wagon, Harl buckled on his sword and showed Lauren the step, the front bench, and the sturdy oak board rising behind the driver’s seat. Beneath the bench lay a round wooden shield and a short club. A second shield hung inside the rear gate.

"Use either shield if you need it. Everything stays with the wagon when we’re done."

The headboard reached Lauren’s shoulders when she sat, and there was room for both riders to crouch in the footwell. A narrow ledge ran along the load bed from the rear step to the seat. Luke tested it with his boot while Harl explained where the wheels might catch someone climbing aboard.

Lauren tested the front shield’s handle, then propped it beside her feet where she could reach it without searching. Luke walked around the wheels and checked the space between the rear gate and the load bed.

Harl introduced them to the gray mare and showed Lauren where he kept the reins clear of the brake lever. Once she had traced the edge of the bench and found a comfortable seat, Luke accepted the contract.

[Quest accepted: Low Mill Escort.]

He climbed onto the rear step as Harl guided the wagon out. Lauren rode beside the driver, facing slightly toward Luke’s voice when he told her he was aboard. The nursery wall slipped from sight, followed by the southern gate.

The road descended toward the river between worked fields and low retaining walls. Water flashed through gaps in the reeds, and a broad wooden millwheel turned farther downstream. Luke rested one hand on the rear gate and kept the spear upright as the wagon rocked beneath him.

Harl pointed out a narrow stretch ahead where an old storage building leaned over the road. "We slow there. If you have to step off, use the wall side. The riverbank is steeper than it looks."

Luke leaned far enough to check. The road’s edge dropped into a strip of wet reeds before reaching the water, leaving little space for someone carrying a long weapon. He shifted his spear to keep the blade clear of a low branch.

The storehouse had an upper loading window overlooking the road. Its shutters were closed, and a stone lip projected over the barred doorway below. The wagon passed close enough to the wall that Luke could have touched it. Harl waited for a man leading a donkey to reach the wider ground before continuing.

At the mill, Harl backed the wagon toward a loading platform and handed over the empty sacks. Lauren climbed down with Luke’s hand beneath hers, and they stayed beside the rear wheels as workers brought out the flour.

Luke counted the sacks aloud while Lauren checked the total in the quest window. Harl argued over one split seam and made the miller replace that sack before accepting the load. A worker tried to add it back while the driver was checking the tally. Luke stopped him at the tailboard and waited for the sound sack Harl had paid for.

The miller eventually wandered away to inspect something inside. Luke guided Lauren to a post in the shade, then checked the canvas ropes while Harl secured the load. The driver kept the narrow ledge clear along the wagon’s side so Luke could reach the front without climbing over the sacks.

Luke helped Lauren back onto the bench and returned to his place at the rear. Harl guided the mare onto the road. The loaded wagon moved more heavily now, its wheels sinking deeper into the soft patches beside the stone.

A handbarrow blocked the narrow stretch by the old storehouse. It had not been there on the way out. One wheel rested crookedly beneath a heap of cut branches, and a man in a brown cap stood beside it waving for Harl to stop.

"Axle’s gone," he called. "Give me a hand moving it?"

Harl drew the reins in, stopping with the front bench just past the loading window. Luke stepped down on the wall side as instructed, but stayed beside the wagon rather than walking forward. The man kept watching Harl instead of the crooked wheel, and his empty hands made no move toward the handles.

Lauren’s fingers touched the shield beside her feet. A brief violet glow crossed her blindfold, then faded.

"Stay by the load," she said quietly.

Luke stopped with one hand still against the rear gate. Beyond the handbarrow, the man’s attention shifted past Harl toward the storage building’s upper window. A loose shutter moved outward, and Lauren pulled the shield up against the bench.

"Get down!"

Harl ducked as something snapped above them. A crossbow bolt struck the oak headboard hard enough to make Luke feel the impact through the wagon.

The man beside the barrow dropped his friendly expression. A short blade appeared beneath his coat, while hurried footsteps came from the road behind Luke. He turned the spear across the gap beside the rear wheel and found a second man approaching with a hooked pole.