Chapter 216: Two Banks
Abandoned wagons sat mired in the freezing mud of the north approach. Teamsters slashed cargo ties with belt knives, dragging loose whatever dry goods could be carried by hand. Sacks of barley hit the slush. Wooden crates were pried apart to extract canvas bundles, small lockboxes, iron tools, and loose gear. People hauled what they could carry away from the sinking wheels, leaving the bulk freight behind.
Elian stood on the south bank with the ledger board pinned against his right hip. He tracked the distribution of labor across the crossing. Varg drove an iron stake into the south-bank gravel to keep the loose guide line clear, then secured the primary rope lane around a mature pine. Across the channel, Vaelia planted her boots on the north bank and gripped the free tension line. Rylia stayed near the edge of the timber deck, allowing only two bodies to step onto the wood at a time.
On the south side, Korrin directed the arrivals toward the gravel ridge, keeping the wet ground clear. Kaelis waded into the shallow edge, pointing out stable rock formations for the heavier merchants to step on as they left the bridge. Dorvik tracked the strain on the iron pins holding the deck. Orra watched the mud sloughing away beneath the stone abutments. Talyra monitored the debris backing up behind the ice shelf.
A length of mooring chain lay abandoned near the south staging area, creating a tripping hazard in the slush. Elian stepped forward, clamping his right hand around the iron links to drag it clear.
Varg stepped across his path and closed her hand over his wrist.
"No."
"I have one good—"
"No."
Elian released the chain and picked his ledger board out of the slush. He went back to marking the crossed passengers.
A boy in an oversized wool coat stepped onto the slick boards. The rushing water surged beneath the timber, spitting foam over the edge. The boy dropped to his knees and gripped the edge of a plank. He stayed there, blocking the path.
Rylia remained on the north bank, keeping her hands at her sides rather than adding her weight to the stressed structure. Kaelis folded her front legs, resting her chest against the gravel of the south bank to bring her face level with the deck.
"Keep your eyes on my hands. Walk toward the leather straps."
The boy released his grip on the wood. He took a sliding step forward on his knees, then another. Kaelis reached out and lifted him onto the solid ground.
A submerged log struck the central piling. The timber deck shifted, snapping two planks out of alignment.
Dorvik raised both hands. "Clear the wood. Everyone off the deck."
The remaining travelers scrambled to the south bank. Only Vaelia, Varg, Skade, two route hands, and the teamster working the last freight wagon remained on the north side. The gap between the banks was narrow enough for Vaelia to leap across without assistance. She stayed near the mud-caked wheels of an abandoned cart. She waited while Varg finished rigging the high line between an oak on the north bank and another on the south.
Skade clipped a carabiner to the hemp and crossed hand-over-hand, dropping onto the south gravel.
The first route hand gripped the rope and swung out. His wet boot skated off an icy root. He dropped.
Varg’s tension line snapped taut. The rope burned against the bark of the anchor tree, halting his fall. Vaelia kept her grip on the anchor line. She waited for the command.
"Pull."
Vaelia hauled the hemp backward. The route hand slid onto the south gravel. The seam of his left boot was torn open, exposing his swelling ankle to the freezing rain. He lay on his back, breathing hard. The second route hand followed via the high line.
A freight wagon sat parked on the crumbling edge of the north bank. The canvas bore a painted Silver-Spoke sigil. The mud beneath its rear axle gave a wet sucking noise. The chassis tilted toward the ravine. The wooden tongue swung toward the remaining timber deck.
There was no time to save the wagon and the crossing.
The contracted teamster drew his belt knife. He slashed the leather harness traces, grabbed a horse by the halter, and dragged the two draft animals backward into the brush.
"Clear the perimeter!" Dorvik shouted.
The wagon rolled forward. The iron-rimmed wheel slammed into the temporary stone shoulder Orra had seated. The stones gave way. The mudbank sheared off in a massive slab. Tons of saturated soil, loose fieldstone, shattered roots, and the freight wagon crashed into Blackroot Run. The impact destroyed the structural pins. Half the timber deck ripped away, vanishing into the churning debris.
The snapped guide rope whipped across the south bank. The recoiling hemp caught Elian across his left shoulder and chest.
The blow knocked him off his feet. He hit the freezing mud. Searing pain flared through his torn muscle. He rolled onto his right side, dug his good hand into the slush, and shoved himself upright. He ignored the throbbing ache in his collarbone and pulled his ledger board out of the dirt.
Varg pointed toward the high backup line, ordering Vaelia across first. Vaelia clipped onto the hemp and crossed hand-over-hand above the wreckage, landing safely on the south gravel. Varg followed her after confirming the anchor had not shifted.
Rylia stepped forward. She grabbed Vaelia's forearm the instant Vaelia's boots touched the gravel. Vaelia gripped Rylia's forearm in return.
Elian lifted his piece of charcoal.
"Count."
"Sixty-four people alive," Korrin called from the slope.
"Twelve working beasts secure," Talyra added.
"One wagon lost," Dorvik stated, pointing at the foaming water. "Sixty feet of rope gone."
Elian wrote the numbers down on the ledger board. One wagon, sixty feet of rope, bridge deck, north shoulder. He noted the route hand's swelling ankle and his own aggravated shoulder.
Near the edge of the rushing water, a torn burlap sack lay trapped against a submerged rock. Thick white flour bled out of the shredded fabric, dissolving into a pale paste that streamed away beneath the black current.