She spoke without taking the spyglass from her eye. “The caravan is flying the flag of the Imperial Order of Conveyers. There are one, two, three … six cargo wagons. They’re all marked with the banner of the imperial engineers.”

“The engineers! Do you think they’re finally sending the new equipment they need to clear the avalanche? We’ve waited so long.”

Two additional cargo wagons and two covered passenger wagons flew the Merchants’ Guild flag. Cat-sized watch-wolverns with wings furled braced themselves on little platforms set atop poles sticking up from the fore and rear wagons, ready to take flight if given the order by the caravan master. Ordinary folk, carrying packs or leading laden donkeys, stuck close beside the road, on the grassy verge, grateful for the protection of the Shield Guild even if such hangers-on weren’t officially part of the caravan. Messenger dogs trotted calmly along, tongues lolling.

The caravan was accompanied by outriders under the banner of a licensed Shield Guild. By its green stripe, this one had been hired out of Ilvewind Cross for the trip. Guard lynxes ranged up and down the caravan’s length, with three-horned, three-eyed swalters astride. One of the lynxes loped forward, drawing Elen’s eye ahead of the leading wagon to a group of riders out in front.

“Can I look?” Kem bounced up and down in excitement.

“Wait.”

A flutter of panic turned her stomach as she realized three of the riders were mounted on elks, but nothing about their faces or posture looked familiar. The avalanche that had closed the road beyond the Halt had blocked the route that ran to Flat Pall and Woodfall Province beyond. This meant that folk from the eastern region of Woodfall Province who were wishing to trade in the Orledder region had to make a long detour west and south through Sunset Province and then north and east again via Ilvewind Cross to come back around this way—unless this group had come directly from the heartland. Yet if they had, it would mean the leader of the elk-riding contingent didn’t know the road north of here was no longer passable through Grinder’s Cut. But the reports detailing the damage the avalanche had caused had been sent out last year, along with a list of the dead and the missing. Aoving’s name among them, of course. Any caravan passing through Ilvewind Cross would have gotten the report, so there was no reason for anyone returning to Woodfall Province to ride past Orledder Halt. It couldn’t be them. It couldn’t be him.

“There! Do you see it?” Kem nudged her arm, throwing off her view.

She lowered the glass. He pointed south of the caravan.