The road north of Bellcross followed a low ridge before descending into farmland. Subin’s group travelled without stopping until the afternoon, when the first buildings of Dunmere appeared beyond a line of bare trees. The settlement was larger than Bellcross, with a public market near the southern gate and several freight yards clustered along the northern road. Wagons arrived from the surrounding mining villages, unloaded their goods, and departed with supplies for the return journey.
Daren Holt’s registered office stood behind a repair yard, marked by a wooden sign bearing the name of his freight company. The building was plain, but the yard held a dozen wagons in various stages of repair. Two workers were replacing an axle while another examined a cracked wheel hub.
A broad-shouldered man in a brown work coat stepped out when the group approached. He looked at their weapons first, then at the Association insignia on Ara’s document case.
“Can I help you?”
“We’re looking into a freight permit issued under the name Corlan,” Subin said. “The permit was used for a dark wagon registered to Daren Holt. We were directed here to verify the registration and the wagon’s movements.”
The man’s expression changed slightly. “I’m Daren Holt. The wagon is mine, but I haven’t used it for several days. What happened?”
“We need to know who had it.”
Holt led them into the office. A desk covered with invoices stood beneath a narrow window, and several ledgers occupied a shelf behind it. He asked an assistant to bring the vehicle records, then examined the permit copy Ara placed in front of him.
“That is my registration number,” he said. “The seal is genuine, too. But I didn’t issue this permit.”
“Could someone have copied it?” Yerin asked.
“They wouldn’t need to. I leased the wagon for a short contract. The renter was responsible for arranging the local travel permit, but the document was supposed to identify my company as the vehicle owner, not pretend I had approved the cargo.”
Holt opened a ledger and ran his finger down a column of entries. “Here. Three days before the wagon passed Bellcross, a man paid for two days’ use. He called himself Corlan. No company name, no permanent address. He paid the deposit and the hire fee in advance.”
“Did you see him?” Subin asked.
“I dealt with him personally. Mid-thirties, perhaps older. Average build, a small scar near his chin. He carried himself like someone accustomed to giving orders, not like a driver looking for temporary work.”
“Was he alone?”
“No. A second man accompanied him during the agreement. Older, grey-haired, dark coat, metal clasp.” Holt glanced at Ara. “That description seems familiar to you.”
“We’ve encountered someone matching it during this investigation,” she replied. “Did you record the second man’s name?”
“He never gave one. Corlan said he was supervising the delivery.”
Holt turned another page. The hire entry included the wagon’s condition, the number of crates loaded, and the agreed return date. The cargo had been described as repair materials, but Holt had not inspected it because the customer had arranged the loading himself.
“What happened when the wagon was returned?” Subin asked.
“It wasn’t.” Holt’s mouth tightened. “The agreement expired yesterday. I sent a worker to the address Corlan gave me, but the place was a rented room that had already been cleared. I intended to report the missing wagon this morning.”
“Did you report it?”
“I was preparing the documents when you arrived.”
Holt’s assistant returned with a separate folder. Inside was a signed hire agreement, a receipt for the payment, and a small sheet recording the return of the wagon’s spare equipment. The signature on the contract was a hurried version of the name Corlan. The receipt showed that the money had come through a licensed commercial account rather than directly from the customer.
Ara studied the documents. “This payment account belongs to a registered freight broker.”
Holt leaned forward. “Which one?”
“Venn Arlo.”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Subin looked at the receipt again. “You’re certain?”
“The account number matches the registry format, and the broker’s name is printed on the payment record. I’ll need the trade office to verify it, but this is more substantial than a name written on a loose paper.”
Yerin folded her arms. “So Venn arranged the wagon hire.”
“Or his account was used to pay for it,” Ara said. “We should establish which before drawing conclusions.”
Holt looked uncomfortable. “Venn is a licensed broker. I’ve done business with him before. He arranged several legitimate shipments for me last year. If he authorized this hire, I want to know why he used a customer who gave a false identity.”
“Have you heard from him recently?” Subin asked.
“No. But he came here about a week ago asking whether I could arrange transport for treated iron. He wanted to know the cost of moving it between settlements and whether I could provide storage during transit. I told him I could, provided the cargo and permits were properly documented.”
“Did he mention Corlan?”
“No. He said the buyer would make the arrangements directly. I refused to reserve anything without a signed contract.”
The detail mattered. Venn had not merely appeared somewhere along the route after the shipment was moved; he had approached Holt beforehand about transporting treated iron. That still did not prove he had helped falsify the later permit, but it placed him much closer to the separate cargo than the team had previously established.
Ara copied the account number and requested a certified copy of the hire agreement. Holt agreed immediately, eager to establish that the missing wagon and unauthorized permit were not his doing.
Before leaving, Subin asked one more question. “Where did Corlan collect the wagon?”
“Here, in the yard. He brought his own driver. The grey-haired man arrived shortly afterward, checked the crates, and left on horseback. Corlan drove the wagon himself.”
“Did you see where he went?”
“North through the settlement. That’s all I can tell you.”
It was enough to establish the next step. Rather than follow another uncertain route, the team went directly to Dunmere’s trade office with the documents.
The office was busy, with merchants waiting at the counter and clerks sorting delivery notices into wooden trays. A senior registrar named Elric listened to Ara’s explanation, then compared the payment record against the regional broker register.
“The account is valid,” he confirmed. “It belongs to Venn Arlo. It hasn’t been reported stolen or suspended.”
“Can you tell us whether he personally authorized the payment?” Ara asked.
“Not from this entry alone. The transaction was processed through a commercial clearing account. We can request the authorization record from the clearing house, but that will take time.”
“Then we’ll request it,” Subin said. “In the meantime, do you know where Venn is?”
Elric checked the incoming correspondence. “There is a notice from Windscar. A request was circulated asking him to return and provide a statement regarding a commercial dispute. He responded this morning.”
He pulled out a letter bearing Windscar’s official seal.
“He is in Millhaven,” Elric continued. “He has agreed to travel to Windscar under escort and give his account to Garrick Voss. The message says he is expected to leave tomorrow.”
“Was he detained?”
“No. He says he left Windscar voluntarily to review storage and transport arrangements for several clients. He claims he did not know his absence would become a concern.”
That explanation was consistent with the records the team had already found, although it did not settle his role in the treated-iron shipment.
Subin considered the two matters. Belric Dane’s iron in Windscar had been secured, the disputed balance was held in escrow, and Othar Pell had withdrawn his competing claim. Nothing they had found suggested that the shipment had been diverted. The freight trail they were following involved a separate cargo, a false permit, and treated iron that had been moved under incomplete documentation.
The two cases might share a broker, but that did not make them the same operation.
“Send the authorization request today,” Ara told the registrar. “We also need a copy of any transport declaration Venn submitted concerning treated iron.”
“I can request those records,” Elric replied. “If the documents exist in the regional register, we’ll forward them to Windscar.”
Holt, who had accompanied them to the office, signed a statement confirming the unauthorized use of his wagon registration and the failure to return the vehicle. The trade office issued him a temporary acknowledgment so he could report the wagon missing without waiting for the full inquiry to conclude.
As the group left the building, Yerin glanced at Subin. “We finally have something that can be checked against a record instead of another person’s memory.”
“And the person whose account matters most is already on his way back,” Subin said.
“Assuming he tells the truth.”
“We’ll compare his statement with the documents.”
They returned to Holt’s yard to collect the certified copies. Before the team departed, Holt handed Subin a final sheet from his ledger. It recorded the wagon’s hire fee and a small additional payment for a replacement brass lantern. The amount matched the expense listed in the temporary permit file.
Subin tucked the document away. It was not proof of the cargo’s destination, but it confirmed that the wagon described by the witnesses was the same one Holt had leased.
That evening, Ara sent the new evidence to Garrick through the regional courier network. Her report was brief: the wagon had been hired under the name Corlan, the registered owner had not authorized the permit, and the hire payment had passed through Venn Arlo’s commercial account. Venn was expected to return to Windscar and could be questioned directly.
The team stayed in Dunmere overnight rather than chase a wagon that might already have been abandoned or moved beyond the region. There was little value in searching every northern road when the documents and the broker were now within reach.
The next morning, Garrick’s reply arrived. Windscar’s authorities had received the report and would add the payment record to Venn’s interview. A regional patrol had also located a dark wagon matching Holt’s description at a roadside repair station outside a mining village. Its rear wheel bore the pale repair band described by the inspector at Dunridge. The vehicle was being held until its ownership could be verified.
The patrol had found no cargo aboard.
That absence did not solve the treated-iron matter, but it closed one practical question: Holt’s wagon had been recovered, and there was no need for Subin’s group to search the entire northern road for it.
Subin read the message, then handed it to Yerin.
“So we go to Windscar,” she said.
“We go to Windscar,” he agreed. “Venn can explain why his account paid for the wagon. The freight records can tell us where the cargo went. If the two disagree, we’ll know exactly what still needs checking.”
For the first time in several days, the investigation had a clear destination and a person who could answer the central question. The trail had not yet established who owned the treated iron or who had ordered its movement, but it had moved beyond scattered sightings and temporary names.
They left Dunmere after breakfast, travelling south toward Windscar with the certified contract, the payment record, and Holt’s statement secured among Ara’s documents.
This time, they were not following another wagon.
They were going to speak to the man whose account had paid for it.