Adventures of David Clarkson

At the bridge’s foot, the Reed Man halts and turns with the ledger bundle tight in his grip. Cold wind lashes the ditch bank, and distant bells beat through the air like a warning.

The Woman at the Window steps in front of David, hidden blade low and ready. Her shoulders square toward the Reed Man, not David.

The Reed Man’s jaw tightens. He shifts one step back from David, but keeps the ledgers close, weighing the bridge, the ditch, and the search coming near.

David stands between the knife and the bundle, the wind tugging at his cloak. If he wants the proof, he must take it now. If he lets it go, he leaves the evidence in the Reed Man’s hands and buys his own escape.

David moves first. His staff snaps up, his free hand darts in, and the oilcloth bundle leaves the Reed Man’s grip in one clean wrench.

The Reed Man’s fingers close on empty air. He jerks after the loss, but the ledgers are already against David’s chest.

The Woman at the Window shifts at once, blade tilting toward the Reed Man as David clears half a step away from the bridge base.

Behind them, grit still spills from the drainage mouth, and the torn strip of David’s sleeve flutters on a reed in the wind.

The Reed Man squares up, empty-handed and livid, as the bridge and the dark ditch road wait for the next decision.