Thallian's first day in the Pass went easily. The smooth hills around them gradually turned into larger hills and the mountains loomed around them, their summits growing more and more obscured by clouds as the day went on. He and Paxton were close enough to the group in front and behind them for Thallian to notice the general good cheer as they moved along. He also began to notice narrow stretches of wooden walls periodically placed along the sides of the worn road.

"What are those walls?" he asked as they passed a third one late in the morning.

"We stop to water the animals at midday, and that's the only time the caravan stops before nightfall," Paxton explained. "Those are for anyone who needs to relieve themselves between the two stops of the day. You stop when you need to, but the caravan goes on. When you're all finished, you simply go catch up with your party on the road. Usually, it doesn't take long to catch up unless you walk even slower than the horses."

Thallian noticed, not for the first time, how the horses seemed to plod along, steadily but not especially quickly. He didn't think he'd have much difficulty catching up, as long as his business didn't take too long.

"So, they are privies?"

Paxton chuckled. "Holes in the ground. Each time a caravan passes through, another group follows to make certain they are maintained. A group from Berk manages this half, and another of both Algoma and Phelin manage the second half."

Thallian glanced back at the simple structure. "I guess I assumed there were sewers through here if we had them on the farm."

"Back when this Pass was cut through the mountains, around two hundred and forty years ago, sewer systems were more difficult to build than today," Paxton told him, and Thallian was grateful that he seemed perfectly happy to answer questions from a boy who had rarely left his family's farm. "There's been talk of putting in a sewer system now, if all three countries can agree to fund it, but it would mean closing the Pass while it's constructed. That's the main reason it hasn't been built yet. When the Pass was first cut, they were able to divert streams from the mountains to supply the various waystations through a piping system, but even that can be difficult to manage as the pipes have needed to be replaced. Just last year I was stranded in the Pass for two days at one waystation because the next on the road had had a pipe start leaking. It ended up flooding the entire first floor of the waystation before it could be repaired. The guards moved us along as soon as the pipe was repaired, but the waystation keepers were still cleaning when we arrived and had no food or entertainment on offer because of the flood. Some in the caravan got a little too upset about that, I think. Bit unreasonable to expect excellent service after such a thing."

Thallian couldn't agree more. "Who repaired the pipe? The waystation keepers?"

"They tried to, from what I understand. They all know how to do simple maintenance and repairs to keep the waystations running smoothly. When it was too much for them, they sent a fast messenger to the next station. Luckily, the keeper there was more experienced with serious repairs and was able to assist in stopping the leak. There are skilled workers in the towns at both ends of the Pass to help when needed, of course. That includes sorcerers if only magic can resolve an issue."

Once again, Thallian took the mention of sorcerers to heart. Maybe one day he would be one of them, using his magic to help trade move through the Pass.

They stopped at midday at a simple waystation. It was a wide, flat plain beside the road, its edges cut from the hills around it. Small piles of fallen gravel lined the bottoms of these vertical cliffs and green vines hung down them from above. The guards arranged all of the groups and their wagons around the plain and the other travelers began leaving their wagons and dismounting from their horses. Thallian followed Paxton's lead and did the same, enjoying the sensation of stretching his legs. He helped Paxton water the horses using a bucket and the water from the well in the center of the space. A wagon full of hay that Thallian hadn't noticed before entering the Pass brought up the rear of the caravan. Someone in a uniform similar to what the guards wore began distributing rations of hay to the animals.

While the horses ate, Paxton and Thallian took their turns at the privy, which was only slightly better than a hole in the ground. They also ate a light midday meal of cheese and bread, washed down with water from the well. The water was pleasantly cool, Thallian noted. Before too long, they were on their way again, once more spacing out the groups to avoid crowding throughout the afternoon. 

Thallian's curiosity was satisfied, it seemed, and the gentle rocking of the wagon on the almost completely smooth road served to lull him into a doze. Paxton didn't seem to mind when Thallian lay down on the driving seat and gave in to his exhaustion.