At first, the hills around the broken wagon appeared to be deserted. On the right side of the road, they dropped off in a smooth slope to the ocean, bare apart from a few stands of tall grass. It would take a skilled man to hide there alone, forget a party of them. The ruined wagon offered slightly more opportunity, but it didn't seem to have been used. One of the axles had broken, putting it on an angle, and removing the most obvious spot as an option.
That meant, if there were bandits, they'd be on the left side of the road. Squinting through the dust thrown up by the caravan as it continued to rumble forward, Indrys thought he could just make something out over the crest of one of the hills. Moments later, a flash of light told him he was right. The sun above had betrayed their enemies, reflecting off the metal of a weapon, or a buckle.
That was why it was better to attack at night.