RIDING WITH THE BEAST
The great river ran like a dark blue ribbon down the centre of our lands, fed by snowmelt from the high peaks and spring rains that turned its banks soft and wide. It had always been both gift and burden: it carried life to every field and village along its course, but it also divided people, set neighbours against each other, and had been used as a tool of control for as long as anyone could remember. The old keepers had granted rights to fish or cross or build weirs only to those who swore loyalty, who paid tribute, who turned a blind eye when those privileges were used to starve or squeeze those downstream. They had let upstream settlements dam small tributaries to dry out the lands below; they had allowed downstream lords to block passage so no trade could pass w
