15 #3

Jesa answered with two short notes. Twelve villagers appeared, carrying blankets, boards, and baskets of fish. The first was a tall woman with a white braid wound around her neck. She came down the slope with a steady stride, pushing stones aside with her staff.

“How many wounded?” she asked.

“One serious, four with cuts,” Jesa said. “I need shelter, animals, and eyes on the coast.”

The woman pointed to three young people.

“Rusk goes to Nara’s house. The others to the old drying shed. Each family takes a crate and waits for the signal.”

The villagers waded in without asking for explanations. A crate of bandages disappeared beneath a mussel net. Another traveled inside a basket covered with seaweed. The dry ampoules were divided among aprons and flour bags. Within minutes, the surviving cargo belonged to the entire cove.

Isolde helped carry Rusk up the path. The sailor kept his teeth clenched. Blood was seeping through the bandage Kaoran had applied on the beach.

“Savia Orn,” the woman with the braid introduced herself. “This coast calls me mayor when it needs someone to blame and healer when it bleeds.”

“Kaoran.”

Savia looked at Isolde.

“Iria.”

The lie came easily. That bothered her more than the pain in her side.

Nara’s house had a room carved into the rock. It smelled of thyme, tallow, and smoked fish. Savia laid Rusk on a table. She cut his trousers from the knee and examined the wound.

“The wood went in here. There are fibers inside. The ankle bone has two breaks.”

“Can you save the leg?” Jesa asked.

“I can give it a chance. I need light, clean water, and a hot blade.”

Isolde held Savia’s knife between her hands. She kept heat in the metal until the edge darkened. The effort was small. Precision depended on her fingers. The two on her left hand began to shake.

Kaoran caught the handle before it slipped.

“I’ll hold it,” he said.

She maintained the temperature from the sides. Savia worked inside the wound while Rusk bit a strap. Jesa held his shoulders. Each fiber removed let fresh blood escape.

Isolde listened to the sea striking the arch. Velaria’s ship was still outside. The originals burned somewhere beneath the waves. Cori was heading toward Cen with a copy. The six names from the village traveled a road she had chosen to leave.

The knife grew too hot.

“Lower,” Savia ordered.

Isolde held a breath. The metal returned to the right color.

“Here,” Kaoran said softly.

The word brought her back to the table.

Savia removed the last splinter, washed the wound, and stitched two layers of flesh. Then she set the ankle between splints.

“The fever will decide tonight,” she said. “Someone has to give him water often. If the leg turns cold or changes color, wake me.”

Jesa stayed with Rusk.

“Go back to the ship,” she asked Isolde. “My sailors are still in your count.”

Isolde went out with Kaoran. Rain had turned the path to mud. Savia walked behind them, giving orders.

“The coast Guard has a post two leagues away,” she explained. “They’ll see the ship stopped and send men.”

“We can move the crew inland,” Isolde said.

“That leaves a beach full of tracks and a house with a wounded man. It’ll look like a smuggling route because it is one.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Make it a shipwreck.”

In the cove, the villagers had already changed the story.

They laid torn nets over the hull. They were emptying sacks of salt into the flooded hold.

Two men dismantled the patch so the blue plate would appear to have struck an ordinary fishing vessel.

The hidden crates traveled toward the houses along different paths.

Venn scraped the stern paint until half the name was gone.

“That’ll hurt her more than the mast,” Ilven said.

Jesa was not there to hear him.

Rheskan had returned to the rock after ranging along the cliff.

So many villagers nearby kept him tense.

A little girl left a fish on a stone and went back to her mother.

The dragon watched the offering. Then he looked at Isolde, as though waiting for her to explain the human custom of giving food to a creature capable of hunting in the sea.

“You decide,” she said.

Rheskan took the fish after the girl moved away. She smiled from the path.

The bond conveyed hunger, curiosity, and a reserve that remained intact. Rheskan allowed the closeness for three heartbeats. Then he flew toward the western crags. He chose a position where he could watch the cove and hide from the ship.

The first guard appeared before the rain ended.

Six men came down the road. They wore waxed cloaks and carried crossbows and a blue plate inside a padded box. The officer surveyed the beach.

“What ship is that?”

Savia planted her staff in the mud.

“A broken one.”

“She has a cargo hull.”

“She carried salt.”

“Crew?”

“Scattered along the beach. Two went up wounded.”

The officer saw Kaoran mending a net. Isolde carried a basket of mussels and wore a blanket over her hair. Venn stood in the water with Ilven. The other villagers cleaned planks.

“A Velaria ship reports smuggling and a dragon attack,” the man said.

“The dragon ought to file a better complaint,” Savia replied. “The ship fired on a boat in a storm.”

One of the guards laughed. The officer silenced him.

“We’ll search the houses.”

Savia spread her arms.

“Start with mine. You’ll find two chickens, six leaks, and a husband hiding from his own creditors.”

The man raised the blue box. The plate gave a weak pulse. Isolde felt cold run through her teeth. She kept her core drawn in. In the mountains, a deep presence answered with slow pressure. Ydrael had sensed the instrument.

The needle turned west.

“There’s living fire nearby,” said the guard holding the box.

“There’s a forge in Bren,” Savia said. “Two leagues down that trail.”

The officer divided his men. Three searched the hull. The others climbed toward the houses.

Isolde set down the basket and followed at a distance. Kaoran walked beside her.

“Rusk,” she whispered.

“Jesa is with him.”

“They’ll find the wound.”

“They’ll find a sailor struck by wood.”

“They’ll recognize the white burn too.”

Kaoran studied her hands.

“Keep your three breaths ready.”

The guards entered the first house. They found fish, salt, and an old woman who refused to leave her chair. In the second, a man feigned perfect deafness. The third held a crate of medicine beneath the floor. The family had put a sleeping pig on top.

The search moved toward Nara’s house.

Savia quickened her pace. The officer blocked her with an arm.

“You wait here.”

“There’s a wounded man inside.”

“We’ll see him.”

Jesa opened the door before they knocked. Her sleeves were bloody.

“If your hands are clean, you can help,” she said.

The officer entered with another soldier. Isolde stayed on the path. From there, she could see part of the table and Rusk’s pale face. The wound was covered. Savia had left the tools in view beside a bowl full of extracted splinters.

“Ship’s name?” the officer asked.

Rusk moved his lips.

“The Stubborn One.”

Venn had erased paint, but the wounded man kept the name.

The guard turned toward the beach.

“The stern says ‘The Stubborn O.’”

“The sea kept two letters,” Jesa replied.

The officer pulled the blanket away from the leg. Rusk lost color.

“This cut has burned edges.”

“The yard fell beside a burning sail,” Jesa said.

“White fire.”

“Ask the ship that fired the projectile.”

The officer pressed near the stitches. Rusk screamed. Isolde took a step forward.

Kaoran rested two fingers on her wrist.

Hold for one.

Two in.

Five out.

Savia struck the floor with her staff.

“Open that wound and I’ll write your name in every port from here to Arkhe.”

“Who will read your letter?”

“The women who tend your men when they arrive with an arrow inside them. Try traveling without them.”

The officer withdrew his hand. He had recognized a network older than his badge.

A horn sounded from the sea. Velaria’s ship was requesting a tow before the tide changed.

The guard with the blue box shouted from the path.

“The signal is moving west!”

Rheskan had taken flight far from the cove. The needle followed him.

The officer gathered his men.

“We’ll return at dawn. The ship is confiscated until the search is complete.”

Savia pointed to the broken hull.

“Take her now. You’ll save everyone work.”

The soldiers climbed away without answering. Two headed toward Bren, following the false lead of the forge. The others went down to the beach to prepare a signal for the ship.

When they disappeared behind the cliff, the houses gave back their cargo. Crates emerged from beneath nets, charcoal, flour, and wet clothes. Each family kept a share to send inland.

“The confiscation lasts until the officer forgets to write it down,” Savia said. “You have one night.”

Jesa came down from Nara’s house.

“Rusk is asleep. Savia thinks he’ll get through the first fever.”

“I could have provoked a harsher search,” Isolde said.

“You could also have let that man open the stitches.”

“I felt myself about to go in when he touched them. My fingers still hurt from clenching them.”

Jesa looked at her hands.

“Tomorrow you can ask Rusk how he wants us to help if they come back.”

Isolde let out her breath slowly. She had prepared answers for the Guard without speaking to the man who would have to endure another inspection.