The Road-Ward Compact

The Road-Ward Compact is the shared nervous system of the Marches, a hard agreement made of wardstones, patrol bells, bridge crews, food caches, sworn guides, and the shame of letting a road die. It is recited in towns where snow comes early and wolves learn the smell of unguarded travellers. The Compact has little splendour, but without it no banner can move, no court can travel, and no claimant can sound like anything more than a man shouting from a hill. Every repaired mile is a small act of civilisation against mud, hunger, bandits, and the long patience of ruin. Its oldest obligations are said to predate the current claimants, scratched first on timber posts and later carved into stone when memory proved too easy to buy. Every generation inherits the same warning: a road neglected for one winter may become a border by spring.