The Silver River Hub stirred with morning activity.
Merchants shouted orders. Wagons creaked under loads. Workers hurried between warehouses and loading docks.
But something was wrong.
Arthur paused at the edge of the transfer yard and watched.
A grain merchant struggled to lift loose sacks onto a wagon bed. The sacks bulged unevenly. They wouldn't stack properly. Three sacks took up space meant for five.
Next to him, timber bundles jutted past the wagon rails. Ropes barely held them in place. The load shifted every time the driver adjusted the harness.
Further down, iron ingots lay scattered across a wagon floor like dropped bricks. No order. No pattern. Just random metal chunks taking up random space.
Arthur said nothing. He watched.
---
Zack appeared beside him, holding a loading manifest.
"Forty wagons today," Zack reported. "Should be sixty by capacity. But cargo's too slow."
Arthur nodded toward the yard.
"Look at the space."
Zack followed his gaze.
