From a distance, the imperial road looked like a low wall cutting through the countryside. Its pavement ran atop a foundation built of stone and in-fill, about three ells in height. The side of the road was sloped, not vertical, and easy to climb up on foot, although a cart or carriage had a harder time of it without the ramps present at villages, crossroads, and Halts.

The wardens, even Simo, grinned with relief as they climbed the embankment. Xilsi gave a whoop when she reached the pavement at the top.

Ipis did a funny little dance, all jerky knees and elbows, then called Kem over and said, “I’ll teach it to you. ‘A Bee Got in My Shirt!’ is the most popular song in the wineshops this year.”

Under the young warden’s attention, Kem’s cloudy expression cleared.

Elen waited at the base, bracing herself. The haunt had not yet ascended either. He shaded his eyes as he examined the workmanship that had survived generations of wind, rain, snow, heat, ice, and steady traffic.

“Your Highness?” Simo called down. “Do you need assistance?”

The haunt spoke in a low voice, not looking at her. “Does it sting you too?”

“Only when I’m walking directly on the pavement. It won’t damage you. It just hurts.”

“So we must hope,” he remarked. “Shall we climb together?”

“It would not be seemly, Your Highness. You must go first, not because you or I care, but because they do.”

He set his jaw and scrambled up to the roadbed where the others waited. Elen sighed and followed. Because the others hadn’t started walking north, she halted with her feet still on the embankment, on quiescent stone. She would wait as long as possible before touching the road. Even so, its buzzing tremor hummed in her bones, making the viper curl up more tightly around her heart, a sensation that made her short of breath.

Kem was staring up and down the road with an expression of astonishment. “There’s no traffic! I’ve never seen the road with no traffic at all. But I guess south of Farledder Halt there’s nowhere to go.”

“What’s that?” asked Ipis, pointing south along the road. “Is that a wagon? Two wagons?”

“There are two villages between here and Five Bridges,” said Elen.

Xilsi said, “I’ll bet those bandits were waiting here for this. Good fortune for these drovers that we came along first.”

“Wagons!” cried the haunt, as if the humble vehicles were a treasure house on wheels. “Worthy Interlocutor, come with me. Jirvy, you as well. The rest of you stay here.”

He set out at a jog for the wagons, Luviara hastening to keep up. Jirvy followed, although he was favoring his injured leg more than he had at the beginning of their walk.

“I thought you’d only been here once before,” said Simo to Elen.