13 #3

Aelyn entered the second barracks. Behind a wooden partition, she found three people: a man with a fever, an old woman who could barely stand, and a boy with an infected leg. They had been left off the new routes because transporting them cost more than their labor was worth.

“How many went to Arkhe?” Aelyn asked.

The feverish man held up six fingers.

“And the others?”

“Under the tower,” he murmured. “They were digging channels. When they finished, blue wagons came. Eight went east. Others were taken at night.”

“Ilan?”

Tessa knelt.

“Carpenter,” the man said. “Made supports for the tunnel. They sent him to the port with five others.”

The number matched.

Aelyn ordered the three taken to a hospital outside the commission’s control. Helor stepped in the way.

“They owe lodging fees.”

“Your record says they finished their contracts.”

“Then they owe for the days since.”

“You left them sick in an empty barracks.”

“They received shelter.”

Tessa hit him.

Her fist struck his mouth. Helor fell against the wall. The guards stepped forward. Aelyn placed herself between them and the woman.

“The assault will be recorded,” she said.

“Arrest her,” Helor ordered, blood on his teeth.

“After a healer documents the condition of the three people abandoned here. You’ll come too, to answer for the fees.”

The administrator tried to invoke Varek. Aelyn wrote an order for his temporary detention for obstructing a health inspection. Darian’s guards had to choose between the visible brooch and an absent authority. They took Helor away.

The ventilation tower remained locked. Neral found an accounting entry paying for filters, chains, and blue stone. The materials came from Nydel. The C-7 tunnel was part of the same confluence network.

“Where does it go?” Maro asked.

The technical map had been removed. Aelyn studied the river, the tower’s direction, and the wagon marks.

“West, beneath the city. It may connect to depots or the route to Cendral.”

“My daughter was here.”

“We’ll look for her among the eight transfers east.”

“You’ve spent years looking in books they write.”

“That’s why you’ve come to see the ground.”

Before leaving, Aelyn sealed the barracks and stationed two civilian inspectors there.

She ordered the underground entrance preserved until they received a plan.

She knew Varek could open it during the night.

Neral made four copies of the report. One stayed with Tessa, another with Maro, one went to the archive, and the last left with a boatwoman.

On their return, people saw the ash on the carriage door. They also saw three sick people inside and the administrator in shackles behind it. The insults dwindled. No one applauded.

Tessa sat beside the sick man and supported his head over the bumps. At the hospital, she asked to keep her copy of the report. Aelyn gave it to her with the seal still wet. The woman checked the signature before putting it away.

That night, the river tower sent an urgent signal.

Three knocks. A pause. One.

Ardan had stopped waking.

Aelyn arrived with Ravel and the health authority of her new position. Varek was already in the room. Two commission physicians stood around the bed. Darian remained by the window.

“The king has suffered another crisis,” one of the physicians said.

“What dose did he receive?” Aelyn asked.

“The prescribed one.”

“I want the record.”

Varek shook his head.

“The family will decide the treatment.”

“Darian is regent because of Ardan’s incapacity. There’s a direct conflict if he controls the medical records.”

Darian turned.

“Hand over the record.”

The physician obeyed.

The dose of velaria had been doubled for three nights. The plant soothed pain and brought sleep. In accumulated quantities, it slowed the pulse and could stop breathing. The document attributed the change to nighttime agitation.

“Who observed the agitation?” Ravel asked.

“The guard.”

“What did the king do?”

“Struck the bed and tried to get up.”

Aelyn knew those knocks. Ardan was trying to send messages through their rhythm. The Guard had turned the signal into a symptom and the medicine into silence.

“We’ll review that dose,” she said.

“He may have convulsions,” the physician warned.

“We reduce it gradually and keep him under constant observation by two independent healers.”

Varek approached.

“The king could die tonight if you alter the treatment.”

“He could also die if you continue it.”

“Will you take responsibility?”

Aelyn took the record.

“It will bear my signature.”

Aelyn entered the previous dose beside her signature.

Darian read the quantities.

“Reduce it,” he said. “Ravel will lead the shift with one of the current physicians. Every dose administered will bear two signatures.”

Varek looked at him.

“Your father expects a stable succession.”

“My father is not the king.”

“Ardan has no living heirs.”

The sentence reached for Isolde’s absence. Darian’s jaw tightened.

“Ardan is still alive,” he said.

Ravel prepared a mild antidote. Aelyn stayed beside the bed. The king’s pulse was slow. Every pause seemed longer than the last.

An hour passed.

Ardan opened his eyes.

His gaze took a while to find her. Then it moved toward Darian.

“I… solde,” he whispered.

Darian went still.

Aelyn took the king’s hand.

“We’re still looking for answers, Your Majesty.”

Ardan squeezed her fingers once. Then he pointed to the strategy box. Aelyn brought the board closer. The king put the heir’s figure beside the road to Arkhe and covered it with an unmarked piece.

A nameless warrior.

The interpretation might belong to Aelyn’s longing. She kept the gesture carefully in mind.

Ardan then moved the ancient dragon beneath the mountain and placed a key beside the port.

“Arkhe,” she said.

One knock.

“Is Ydrael’s prison controlled from there?”

Ardan closed his eyes. His finger tapped once more.

Darian had seen the board.

“What do you know about Arkhe?” he asked the king.

Ardan was asleep already. This time his breathing was steady.

“I want the port plans tomorrow,” Aelyn said.

“Varek controls them,” Darian replied.

“You’ve just remembered you’re regent.”

He looked at his former mentor. Varek left the room without saying goodbye.

Aelyn asked Ravel to train four healers. Each would keep a copy of the doses; the network would receive a daily signal about the king’s pulse.

For the inspections, she chose a healer, a scribe unconnected to Varek, and two family representatives. Neral would receive the official information. Orla would cease to be her direct contact.

Darian entered her new office at nightfall.

“You found the people from C-7,” he said.