The bridge had washed away in the spring floods. The scout stared across the expanse of tumbled stone and foaming water and felt disgust rise in his throat.
How could this country let things fall into such disrepair? His fathers had built these roads for their safety and comfort. And these savages had let his empire’s gifts rot beneath their very feet!
He turned and headed back through the overgrown forest, already preparing his report to the commander. The army couldn’t cross here.
She watched him go from the trees. She was thankful they had been turned away without bloodshed.

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