Juna had walked the convoy cut in the morning sun, climbing the low ledges before following the road back toward the abandoned toll post.
The solar cuts she left along that traveled loop waited beneath the stone, its final return line still open beside a broken milestone.
By the time the enemy convoy entered the gorge, smoke had swallowed the marks she had memorized.
Ceramic pots burst against the roadside, spreading sulfurous clouds around two armored carts and a grain wagon trapped between them.
A child's cough came from beneath the grain wagon's canvas, followed by a man's hurried attempt to quiet it.
Juna stopped at the milestone, lowering the glaive she had been about to carry across the final line.
The hidden passengers were sitting directly inside her stored attack route.
Farther back, the Sixth vanguard held the eastern exit for the civilian carters she had already sent through, leaving this blocked stretch to her.
