The first batch from the quarry had arrived at the city without issue. So had the second.
The third, though. By then, enough time had passed for a response.
The convoy approached along the road in a way that immediately felt wrong.
Beorn had been standing at the parapet for nearly ten minutes when they came into view. He watched the group cross the final stretch of open ground.
He counted the figures as they drew closer. Then counted again, just to confirm.
The number was right. Everyone who had left the gate earlier was now returning.
What was missing was the weight they should have been carrying.
The transport animals led the convoy, and even from the wall the problem was obvious. The loads that should have been strapped to them were gone. Behind them came the workers with empty hands hanging at their sides.
They moved with a shameful posture, as if they had been taken prisoners and then released. Beorn recognized it. He had seen it before, though in another lifetime.
