The Mad WarDragon of Greed.

Chapter 8: The Second Wagon

The road outside Eldora was busier than Stravos had expected, with merchant wagons rolling past in both directions and the occasional traveler stepping aside to avoid their wheels. The morning air carried the smell of damp soil and horse sweat, while voices rose and fell along the roadside as merchants called to their drivers.

Stravos kept to the edge of the road, holding the folded route sketch Daren had drawn for him. He had already read it several times, but he opened it again as he approached a narrow stretch where the main road divided around a patch of woodland.

According to the failed party, they had followed the Guild's directions north before discovering the clearing by accident. The tracks they found there had led toward a stream, where the trail became impossible to follow.

That was where their investigation had ended.

Stravos studied the sketch, then looked at the road ahead. He could visit the clearing, examine the tracks, and leave with another report describing what the previous party had already found. However, repeating their search without understanding their mistake would accomplish very little.

He needed to establish why they had been sent there in the first place.

After checking the directions once more, he left the main road and followed the narrower path leading toward the clearing. The ground softened beneath his boots as the trees grew closer together, and the sound of passing wagons gradually faded behind him.

When he finally reached the site, he slowed down and surveyed the area before stepping into the clearing.

The broken crates were still scattered across the ground, though the previous party had disturbed some of the surrounding soil while searching for clues. A few pieces of splintered wood lay near the edge of the clearing, and the wagon tracks remained visible where the earth had dried.

Stravos crouched beside the nearest set of tracks and brushed away a thin layer of loose dirt.

"One wagon," he murmured as he followed the grooves with his eyes. "At least, that's what they want someone to believe."

He straightened and examined the rest of the clearing. The broken crates proved that cargo had been handled there, but they didn't establish how much had been transported or whether the missing supplies had ever been unloaded at this location.

He had seen enough merchants lie about their losses to know that damaged containers were not proof of stolen goods. A dishonest trader could exaggerate a loss, while someone concealing a shipment could leave just enough evidence to make an investigation follow the wrong trail.

Neither possibility was particularly unusual.

What mattered was the original merchant statement.

Stravos removed the document from his bag and unfolded it carefully. The paper had developed a crease where he had folded it earlier, and he smoothed it against a relatively flat crate before reading the relevant passage again.

The merchant had reported that two wagons were supposed to carry the supplies. Yet the Guild's summary mentioned only one, and the failed party's investigation had focused on the tracks leading away from this clearing.

Stravos looked from the document to the ground.

If both wagons had reached the clearing, there should have been some indication of their presence. The earth was soft enough to preserve tracks, and the space was wide enough for two wagons to turn around without much difficulty. Even if the second set of tracks had been disturbed, he needed a reason to believe it had ever existed here.

He walked slowly around the perimeter, examining the ground where the clearing met the trees. The previous party had searched the area, but their report suggested that they had concentrated on the tracks they could follow rather than the ones they couldn't find.

Stravos stopped near a patch of exposed earth beside the road.

There were no clear tracks there, only shallow impressions left by passing travelers and the occasional hoofprint. He crouched again, running his fingers over the dry surface before rubbing the dirt between his thumb and forefinger.

Nothing useful.

He rose with a quiet click of his tongue and continued toward the stream.

The ground became softer as he approached the water, and the air grew cooler beneath the trees. A narrow ribbon of water moved between the stones, its surface broken by fallen leaves and small branches. Stravos followed the stream for several paces, searching the banks for any sign that a wagon had crossed or stopped nearby.

The previous party had claimed that the tracks ended here, but the statement was imprecise. Tracks could become difficult to follow without actually disappearing, especially when the ground changed or several travelers passed through the same area.

He examined the near bank, then crossed at a shallow point where the water barely reached his boots. The cold seeped through the leather, irritating him enough to make his mouth tighten, but he ignored the discomfort and continued along the opposite side.

For several minutes, he found nothing worth noting.

Then he stopped.

The bank on the far side of the stream sloped upward toward a stretch of firmer ground. Near its base, the soil had been disturbed, leaving a shallow depression that could easily have been overlooked among the surrounding roots and stones.

Stravos approached it and crouched.

The depression wasn't deep enough to prove that a wagon had passed through, and the earth had been disturbed too much for him to identify a clear wheel pattern. However, its position caught his attention. It lay at an angle that would have allowed a wagon to leave the clearing without following the route described in the failed party's report.

He studied the slope, then looked back toward the clearing.

If a second wagon had crossed here, it could have avoided the section of road where the party had discovered the abandoned crates. The terrain would have made the crossing difficult, especially for a heavily loaded wagon, but not impossible.

He brushed away some loose soil near the depression, searching for a clearer impression. His fingers encountered a small, hard object lodged between two roots, and he carefully worked it free.

It was a splinter of wood, darkened by moisture and worn along one edge.

Stravos turned it over in his fingers before glancing toward the broken crates in the clearing. The wood wasn't enough to establish where it had come from, and he wasn't going to pretend otherwise. It could have fallen from a wagon, belonged to an older piece of debris, or been carried there by someone who had nothing to do with the thefts.

Still, the location gave him something worth investigating.

He slipped the splinter into a small pouch and returned to the clearing, looking at the evidence from a different perspective. The broken crates were no longer the center of his attention. He was more interested in the possible route that bypassed them, and in the question of why the Guild's report had directed the previous party toward a location that might not account for all the missing cargo.

Someone could have made an honest mistake when preparing the summary. The merchant could have provided inaccurate information, or the second wagon might never have reached the area.

He wasn't prepared to accuse anyone yet.

Stravos folded the original statement and placed it beside the Guild's summary. The difference between the two documents was small enough to escape casual attention, but the consequences were significant. The party had been sent out with a description that might not have represented the complete shipment, and they had returned without discovering where the missing supplies had gone.

If the omission had been deliberate, the person responsible had understood that investigators could only follow the information they were given.

Stravos's expression hardened slightly as he tucked the papers away.

He had trusted the wrong people once before, and the memory had cost him far more than money. He wasn't going to repeat that mistake simply because the people involved wore respectable clothes or carried official Guild documents.

The next step was obvious.

He needed to speak with the merchant who had provided the original statement and establish whether the second wagon had actually been dispatched. If it had, the merchant should know its destination, its driver, and the identity of whoever had arranged the transport. If it hadn't, then the discrepancy would lead somewhere else.

Either way, the answer would bring him closer to understanding what had happened.

Stravos took one final look around the clearing before heading back toward the road. The investigation had not given him the culprit, the missing supplies, or a clear explanation for the altered report, but it had narrowed the problem to a question that could be answered.

Had the second wagon ever left Eldora?

He would begin there.

By the time he returned to the main road, the morning traffic had grown heavier. A pair of merchants were arguing beside a loaded wagon, their voices rising above the creaking wheels as one accused the other of taking the wrong turn. Stravos glanced at them briefly before continuing toward Eldora, already considering how to question the merchant without allowing the man to shape the conversation around his own interests.

He had learned long ago that people rarely gave away useful information when they felt cornered. Sometimes it was better to let them speak until they forgot what they were trying to hide.

The thought brought a faint smile to his face.

At least this investigation wouldn't require him to tear anyone's heart out.

When the city gates came into view, Stravos adjusted the strap of his bag and joined the line of travelers waiting to enter. He had no intention of wasting the rest of the day chasing uncertain tracks when the original records could provide a more reliable answer.

However, as he approached the gate, a question occurred to him that he hadn't considered before.

If the merchant had reported two wagons, why had the Guild's summary reduced the shipment to one? The clerk who prepared the document might have made a mistake, but the original statement should still have been available when the request was assigned.

Someone had either overlooked an important detail or decided it wasn't supposed to matter.

Stravos passed through the gates and turned toward the commercial district, where he could begin tracing the shipment through the merchant's records. He would ask for the dispatch details first, then compare them with the original statement and the Guild's version. Until he had those answers, there was no reason to waste time speculating about a culprit.

He had barely reached the first row of merchant stalls when he noticed a shopkeeper closing the shutters of a small storage office. The man was moving hurriedly, and when a passing trader called out to him, he answered without turning around.

Stravos paid him little attention at first, continuing along the street toward the merchant's address recorded in the report. Yet the name on the paper brought him to a stop when he compared it with the sign above a nearby warehouse.

The merchant's business was there, but the warehouse had been marked as temporarily closed.

Stravos looked at the sign again, then at the document in his hand.

The Guild's summary had listed the merchant's shipment as recent, but the warehouse records displayed beside the entrance indicated that the business had suspended outgoing deliveries several days earlier.

He stood quietly for a moment, letting the contradiction settle.

That did not prove that the merchant had lied. The shipment could have been arranged before the closure, or the records could simply have been outdated. But it gave Stravos another question to ask, and this one concerned something the merchant should have been able to explain without difficulty.

He turned toward the office entrance and knocked.

No one answered.

Stravos knocked again, harder this time, and heard movement behind the door. A lock scraped into place, followed by several hurried steps moving away from the entrance.

His golden eyes narrowed.

The warehouse might have been closed for ordinary business reasons, and the person inside might have had no connection to the thefts. He wasn't going to jump to conclusions merely because the timing was inconvenient.

However, he had come looking for a merchant whose records contradicted the Guild's report, and someone inside had just refused to answer the door.

Stravos lowered his hand and examined the entrance, considering whether to return with the supervisor or wait until the office reopened. He could force the issue, but that would only make the people inside less willing to speak, assuming they had anything useful to say at all.

Instead, he stepped away from the door and looked toward the street.

A few paces down, a porter was unloading crates from a cart. Stravos approached him and held up the document bearing the merchant's name.

"Excuse me," he said. "I'm looking for the person responsible for this warehouse's outgoing shipments. Do you know where I can find him?"

The porter glanced at the paper, then toward the closed office. His hands paused on the crate he was carrying, and his expression changed just enough to catch Stravos's attention.

"I wouldn't know anything about that," the porter replied, turning back to his work. "You'll have to ask the owner."

Stravos lowered the document, watching him for a moment.

The answer had been perfectly reasonable, but the man's reaction suggested that the name meant something to him. Stravos wasn't going to force a confession from a porter who might simply be afraid of losing his job, so he stepped aside and allowed the man to continue unloading.

He had found another lead, though not the answer he needed.

For now, the merchant's records were the most reliable place to begin, and the closed warehouse had made it clear that he would need to approach the inquiry carefully. Stravos turned away from the office and headed back toward the Guild, intending to request the merchant's full dispatch records before deciding what to do next.

Behind him, the porter watched until he disappeared into the crowd. Only then did he set down the crate and hurry toward the closed office, where someone inside was waiting to hear whether the Dragon had asked any questions.

The investigation had barely begun, but someone was already worried about what Stravos might discover.