the rickety footbridge, just wide enough to allow two people to cross side-by-side if they were willing to risk the sway and swoop of frayed ropes at the mercy of a howling wind.
Erostis and Anhuset stopped on either side of him. The soldier stated the obvious. “There's no beam bridge.”
“I can see that.” Serovek unfolded the portion of the map showing the bridges. It hadn't changed since his last study of landmarks. Two bridges, not one, and he was certain they hadn't taken a wrong turn. The way here had been mostly a straight track.
Anhuset leaned toward him for a look at the map. “Your map says to cross here?” One eyebrow slowly climbed as she changed positions to stare at the footbridge. “You'll not get one horse across that death trap much less a wagon and team. It looks ready to snap under the weight of a rat.”
He nearly bit his tongue to keep from snapping at her in frustration. He held up the map. “The mapmaker I purchased this from is reliable and renowned. There's supposed to be a beam bridge here as well as the footbridge.”
“Maybe we took a wrong path after the village or the forest.” Erostis turned his mount in a circle as if to search for some hidden road whose markers they'd missed.
Serovek shook his head. “No, we're traveling in the right direction.” He coaxed Magas toward the footbridge, buffeted by the ravine's chilly gusts as they rode parallel to its edge. As he got closer to the footbridge, the discrepancy between map and reality revealed itself.
The map was correct, as was their direction. A beam bridge had once spanned the ravine, but no longer. Someone had destroyed it, tearing the anchor bolts from the cliff walls. Bits and pieces of spandrels and parapets not fallen to the river far below, hung on narrow outcroppings, providing sanctuary for bird's nests. The bits of stone looked like broken teeth against the cliff's dark rock.
“Well, that explains why there aren't two bridges,” Anhuset said behind him, her remark snatched away by the spiraling wind.
“Aye,” he replied as they rode back to where Klanek waited with the wagon. “I'll wager those who destroyed all the other water crossings we've seen had a hand in its collapse.”
“But why not take out the footbridge as well? A quick swipe with a scythe on the ropes, and it's done. Much easier than the beam bridge.”
He'd questioned the oversight as well for a moment until he gave the footbridge more than a passing glance. “Whoever it was, they were wise not to cut that one. It's an escape route. Someone fleeing the galla can still cross the ravine, and the demons can't follow.” He gestured toward the bridge. “Gaps between the boards. Too narrow to trip a person, but enough space between them that you see water. The demons can't cross.”
Klanek's face wrinkled into deeper worry lines when Serovek relayed the news about the collapsed bridge to him. “If we can't cross here, we'll be forced to take the round-about way to reach the valley, and that means going through what's left of Chamtivos's territory.”
Serovek was about to tell the driver he'd love to hear any alternative options when Anhuset straightened from her casual slouch and pointed to a spot behind him. “It seems your map missed a third bridge, margrave.”
He twisted in the saddle, then wheeled Magas around for a better look at this newest surprise. While the spot where they stood had cleared of morning fog hours earlier, dissipated by sun and wind, it still clung to a part of the cliffs in the distance—a gray shroud whose folds now parted in ripples and folds to expose a magnificent beam bridge of swooping arches, decorative spandrels, and graceful parapets constructed of ivory stone.
“That one isn't on the map, is it?”
Startled by the unexpected discovery but hopeful the gods had just bestowed a mercy upon them, Serovek bit back a smile at Erostis's almost forlorn question. “No, it isn't, but that doesn't mean it can't be crossed. We might as well scout it before we decide to take the longer route.” He didn't relish traveling through Chamtivos's territory, and if this new bridge offered a way to avoid that, he'd gladly take it.
They set off toward the bridge, and Serovek felt a splinter of unease the closer they came to it. How a map maker could capture the details of a footbridge but miss a beam bridge of this size