Following the merger at the crossroads, the convoy moved out once more. As they crossed the border and climbed higher, the relentless cold of the Great Mountain Range began to set in. With every kilometer covered, the altitude rose noticeably, and the steep slopes strained the caravan's progress. One only had to look outside to understand why this geography was so difficult to conquer and pass through; nature protected the northern lands like a stone fortress woven by its own hands.
As they ascended, the air not only grew thinner, but harsh and freezing gale-force winds blowing from the northeast began to batter the wooden hull of the wagon. Akça pulled the collar of her coat a bit higher as she watched the outside from the window. The deathly tension experienced at the border gates had given way to the rhythm of the road and their old, unshakable daily banter.
"At this rate," Akça said, without taking her eyes off the sharp bends in the road, "those iron shafts on the wagons will freeze solid before we even reach Namtab."
Kaahn finished organizing the notes in his hand and leaned back. "The shafts are no big deal, but Beran's horses held up well on this steep incline. The mountain air seems to have woken everyone up in the caravan."
Akça laughed softly, shaking her head as she turned to Kaahn. "What woke the men down there isn't the mountain air; it's the Palsur platoon they left behind. We're still walking while looking over our shoulders." The serious expression on her face gave way to a genuine smile. "But I must admit, if it weren't for those auditor documents, we'd be scraping the rust off a dungeon cell right now instead of running a caravan at this altitude."
"You knew the plan would work," Kaahn said in a confident tone. "I merely managed the timing."
"Right, as always," Akça teased.
When the convoy reached the plateau at the end of the steep incline, the massive stone walls of the Nireskaya Fortress, placed like a lock right between the two mountain ridges, came into view. The stone path cut right through the fortress and stretched toward the west.
Just before reaching the gate, they stopped at the last open vantage point permitted by the altitude. Akça looked down from the wagon window toward the direction they had come from. The view was truly daunting yet equally mesmerizing.
The massive valleys and mountain foothills they had traversed hours ago now appeared as misty hollows miles below. This clear line of sight brought by the high altitude laid the southern borders of the kingdom right beneath their feet. While the wind howled at the summit, the harshness of this geography was the greatest advantage for the secrecy of the caravan.
Kaahn turned to Akça and replied, "If we ever go up into the mountains again, we'll have a nice barbecue by the running river."
Akça turned her head from the window and looked toward him at Kaahn's unexpected barbecue remark. The awe and seriousness that had just settled in her eyes while looking down was instantly replaced by a mocking expression as she scrutinized Kaahn's face.
"A barbecue?" Akça said, intentionally raising her tone a bit. "Kaahn, we have six wagons full of contraband industrial parts behind us, we are about to enter one of the most strictly guarded military fortresses of the kingdom in two minutes, and you are talking to me about having a barbecue under a freezing northeast wind."
Kaahn remained completely unbothered. He pulled his pocket watch from his vest, snapped the cover open, and after checking the time, turned back to Akça. "You know I always turn out to be right when it comes to timing. That's why I'm making a note of this here; when we catch a comfortable breath in the future, we will take the horses and go up to the top of a view exactly like this. And that barbecue will happen."
Akça rolled her eyes but couldn't help the genuine smile forming on her face. "Fine, then, whatever you want. I'd much rather enjoy some roasted vegetables and sucuk[1]; I'm saying this now so your plans don't go astray later."
While this relaxed conversation continued, it was abruptly cut short by a harsh command from outside just as they approached the colossal gate of the fortress.
"Halt! The convoy leader step forward and present the documents!"
The wagons ground to a halt as they entered the shadow of the thick, stone-woven walls of the Nireskaya Fortress. This was the second and most critical checkpoint of the journey. The archers atop the high ramparts and the armored guards waiting before the gate held their pikes upright, scanning the surrounding caravan. In this cold garrison of the mountain pass, the power of official documents was about to be tested once more.
[1] To be honest, when you head out to the mountains, the Afyon-style sucuk is the best; make crosswise cuts with a knife on a whole strand of Afyon sucuk, and if desired, split it down the middle to stuff it with slices of tomato and bell pepper; then, to prevent the juices from leaking out, it’s tightly wrapped—first in wax paper, then in a double layer of aluminum foil—to ensure no air gets in, and completely buried in the embers of a smokeless, fully charred grill or campfire, where it’s left to cook in its own steam and fat for about 10–15 minutes (turning it over occasionally). I definitely recommend it 👍