Hajin hauled himself over the last ledge above the shut boards, still spitting river grit from the first crew.
"Oh, come on, there's more of you?" he whined, wiping spray off his face with a soaked sleeve.
Above the bypass sat a squat stone housing, and a release lever jutted from its wall like a broken arm. One fat pin held the lever upright, and five armed men crowded around it with a bow saw and mallets.
The saw teeth were already halfway through the pin, shrieking with every stroke while sparks spat into the spray.
'If that pin goes, the lever drops, and the whole upper gate opens onto Loccy's road.'
He squinted at the lever and the cracked post beside it, trying to guess which way it would fall.
A man with a hooked poleaxe stepped between him and the saw, rolling his shoulders like he owned the river.
"Look at him, lads, staring at the pretty lever," the crew captain sneered, "he doesn't even know which end to grab."
"I know which end I'm grabbing, and it's yours."
