Free Midnight Quest by Honor Raconteur

Jewel didn’t actually mind this, as Rialt was not only marvelously comfortable to sit on, but smelled quite nice. The man practically radiated heat too, which she pleasantly soaked up.
    Judging from the way he nervously twitched now and again, he wasn’t quite as comfortable as she with their positions.
    The sounds of early morning traffic shifted through the wooden walls of the wagon as the entire caravan trundled down the main road heading out of Wexel. Jewel had listened carefully as the preparations were being made and she guessed the caravan to hold roughly a dozen wagons. It was a wealthy train and one well-guarded by two dozen guards. It was not the only caravan of this size on the main road that day, so the pace in clearing the northern gate had slowed to a crawl. The first snow melt had finally occurred and every merchant wanted to take advantage of the snow-free roads as quickly as possible. The guard detail at the gate obviously wasn’t prepared for such a trader influx.
    They’d been told the plan, of course, before being snuck into the back of the wagon in the predawn hours. Still, she jolted when the wagon abruptly dipped to one side and an ominous sound of creaking wood and screeching metal rent the air.
    “Dross and dreck!” Liam swore with deep exasperation. The wagon’s bench squeaked a bit as he stood and jumped to the ground with a heavy and solid thud. “Brant! You ham-handed, gormless scut!”
    From farther behind them, approaching with a quick stride, came Brant. “What are you yelling at me for?!”
    “I told you to properly check the wagons before we loaded!” Liam growled in a tone low enough to nearly vibrate the wagon’s wall near Jewel’s ear.
    “I did! It’s not my fault you’re so tight-fisted that we couldn’t buy the right parts!”
    “By Thaazan’s nimble hands, this is ridiculous!” A foot scuffed the dirt as someone pivoted sharply. “Nev!”
    “What’s the holdup back here?” Nev’s voice came from the beginning of the train, growing more distinct and audible as he approached with the smooth gait of a former military man. “The guards up here are getting irritated ‘cause we’re holding up the line and—how’d the wheel come off?!”
    Jewel smothered a laugh into her hand as another round of blame casting went on, growing louder and with more creative expletives with each cycle.
    “STOP!” Nev finally thundered. “Forget I asked, let’s just fix the shard-borne thing.”
    “Well, get to it,” Liam responded with short impatience.
    “Me?” Nev objected.
    “We had that game this morning to sort things like this out, didn’t we?” Brant reminded, tone rather testy.
    “I’m a guard, not a blacksmith!” Nev nearly wailed.
    “You also lost the toss!”
    “And I’m convinced you rigged it!”
    Jewel twisted a smidge so that she could whisper in Rialt’s ear, “What kind of smugglers deliberately draw attention to themselves like this?”
    “Good ones,” Rialt rumbled in a low whisper. His voice held a note of approval. “If they make more of a fuss, and block the road another ten or fifteen minutes, the guards up there will get real antsy to move us along. They might no mind this wagon at all. They do no want us sitting here a’ day, do ya see.”
    “But isn’t it risky to have a wheel come off like this?”
    “The wheel be proof of how good they are,” Rialt disagreed. “Only the very best would pull a chicane like this. I would lay odds that if they were minded to the wheel could be set again in moments.”
    They certainly would have fooled her into thinking otherwise. Outside of their wagon’s walls there was tool dropping, name calling, insults about the blacksmith who’d made the spare wheel (and the dogs that had bred him), and enough mishaps to resemble a comedy of errors. Two different gate guards came down to see what the delay was and left again with very unhappy growls.
    When they finally did get the wheel back on and the