Chapter 11: Even a Shortcut Has an Owner

After sweeping the loading shelter and returning the key at noon as promised, Sara went with Mika to Dorn’s warehouse. Crates were being carried through the gate one after another, and a man was spreading gravel into wet wheel ruts. On a map it was a shortcut. Here, it was someone’s workplace.

“Could you let one cart of firewood through tomorrow morning? I’d like to ask about the conditions and any f*e.”

Summoned by the caretaker, Dorn spoke first to the man tamping down the gravel, then turned to Sara.

“Our own goods go out tomorrow morning. We haven’t room to let another cart in among them. I’ve let that driver through before, but this was never a road I promised he could use whenever he liked.”

“What about before loading begins, or after it’s finished? I can ask the carrier whether we can adjust our time.”

“We have preparations beforehand, and the next goods come in afterward. The rain has left us behind. Tomorrow, the answer is no.”

His tone left no room to press him. Beyond the gate, two men stood shoulder to shoulder supporting a crate. Sara resisted the urge to ask again, thanked him, and walked away.

“It feels as though he’s blocking the road knowing how much trouble it will cause us.”

The words escaped as soon as they reached the street. Mika shifted the map in his arms.

“I understand why it feels that way. But whether we have a right to pass is a separate matter. We were planning tomorrow’s delivery without having permission to use his land.”

“…Yes. I was treating it like a public road, as though we could use it whenever it was clear.”

Even so, her irritation lingered. Thinking of the people waiting for tomorrow’s wood made her want to blame the man who had refused her rather than her own oversight. Before she could persuade herself that the feeling made her right, she turned her eyes from the gate back to the map.

At the carrier’s stable, a six-legged ox was chewing hay. Watching the legs beneath its thick belly, Sara asked the driver about the other road. To avoid Dorn’s land, they would have to go upstream, cross a bridge, and come back down.

“For that distance, couldn’t we move collection to the afternoon? Please include the cost of working later than usual in your estimate.”

“It’s the working later that we can’t do. Cold mist rises along the river. When these animals smell it, they fold all six legs under them and won’t move.”

He stroked the ox’s neck and picked a piece of straw off its nose. The animal sniffed his hand before reaching for the hay again.

“So it isn’t simply that they dislike the cold.”

“They sometimes lie down before we can even see the mist. Try to move them, and you’ll still be waiting on the road with the load. That’s why we leave the river before the mist rises.”

Beside the arrival time, Sara added the time they needed to be clear of the riverside. She had thought she only needed to allow more time for the extra distance, but some roads became unusable if they went later. She was ashamed, too, to realize that she had asked the driver to solve the problem by stretching his day.

“What about making several trips through the main street with a small cart?”

“For eighty bundles, that means more loading and unloading too. If I spend all day going back and forth with one cart, I have to turn down my next job. Smaller doesn’t necessarily mean cheaper.”

Instead of leaving it there, the driver traced a route with his finger on a board on the wall.

“If you’re going the long way round, look for a morning run. I’ve other goods to carry, but I think a carrier across the river has a cart coming back empty early in the morning. Shall I ask whether you could use the return journey?”

“Please. But I’d also like to check the width with a loaded cart in mind, and where the animals can rest. I don’t want to promise an arrival from a map alone this time.”

While the driver sent a messenger with an introduction, Sara and Mika rearranged the cost items. A different morning carrier meant coordinating Toma’s inspection time as well. They would need to pay to rent the loading shelter again, and tell the people coming to collect their wood once a new time was settled.

“We’re not going to charge all of it to the reserve just because we have fifty coppers there,” Mika cautioned.

Sara nodded. If they spent the money set aside for replacements and shortages, the residents would be left in difficulty if something was wrong with the wood. They had to show the additional costs separately and obtain approval before placing the work.

The messenger eventually returned with word that the early run could be discussed. If they inspected the route that day and settled the quantity and timing, the carrier could quote a price. Sara wrote down the conditions and let out a small breath. It was not yet a promise to transport the wood, but she could see more clearly what needed doing than she had while standing before the gate.

“I’ll go on the inspection too. If we’re measuring the width, I’ll bring a cord as well as paper.”

“You should change your shoes first.”

At Mika’s remark, she looked down. A fresh wet patch was spreading from the toe through the drying mud. She had been feeling the cold for some time, but whenever there was another thing to think about, her own feet fell to the bottom of the list.

“Put time to go back into the schedule. It won’t help to record all the oxen’s rest stops if you end up unable to walk.”

Sara smiled and folded the map carefully to keep it dry.

“Yes. Before we inspect the road, I’ll go and unload my boots too.”

The driver burst out laughing, and the ox flicked an ear. Sara scraped the mud off at the stable door and set out to fetch dry shoes. Even with the detour, a morning run might get the wood there. This time, she wanted to test that hope against the actual road.