Zhira hastened after her companions. The road curled down to a wooden dock jutting out from the banks. Beyond crystalline waters she could see a second dock on the far side. The water between was far wider and faster-flowing than it had looked from the hillside. As Vesta approached the small timber hut, propped against the railings, she seemed to freeze in place when a man stepped out. Rhyode passed his reins to her and strode forward.
The stranger was taller than Rhyode, wearing a leather coat made for a much bigger man still. A much wider man, because he was thin beneath the flapping panels, with a narrow face below a shock of muddy brown hair. At Rhyode’s approach he was forced to remove his gaze from Vesta and appraise the man instead.
‘Passage for us and the horses.’ Rhyode spoke
