Morning light touched the Silver River Bridge.
The stone arches stood perfect. The road approaching from the east gleamed with new gravel. Convoys moved in steady lines toward the crossing.
Then the first wagon reached the bridge entrance.
It slowed.
Not much. Just a slight hesitation as the driver checked his spacing. The wagon behind him slowed too. Then the next. Then the next.
By the time the lead wagon reached the bridge deck, the convoy behind it had stretched thin. Gaps opened. Speed dropped.
A minor adjustment became a chain reaction.
Within ten minutes, wagons backed up at the entrance. Drivers shouted. Horses stamped. The smooth flow Arthur had built collapsed into chaos.
Arthur stood on the bridge's highest point and watched.
He said nothing.
---
Zack climbed to join him, breathing hard.
"Road's perfect. Bridge is perfect. What happened?"
Arthur pointed down at the entrance.
"Look at the ground."
