Ch. 116 The Door Above the Grain Yard

Chapter 116: The Door Above the Grain Yard

By the second morning, I had learned which parts of the ship would strike my head.

By the third, I had begun remembering before they did.

Melody considered this encouraging.

“By the return voyage, you may be fit to travel.”

I straightened beneath the low beam.

“Were you always good at this?”

“No.”

“Then you might be sympathetic.”

“I was sick for two days on my first crossing. Nobody was sympathetic to me.”

Tamsin passed us carrying a coil of rope.

“That explains several things.”

Melody looked after her.

I smiled for the first time that morning.

The sea gave us four days of useful wind.

On the fifth, Veylan appeared beneath a bank of cloud.

At first, it was only a darker line.

Then the hills separated.

White houses gathered around the harbor. Above them, terraces climbed toward groves of trees and a pale road that wound inland.

I stood beside Dorran while he pointed out the approaches.

“The lower village.”

I found it on the shore beyond the quay.

“The grain yard.”

Farther uphill.

“And the council house?”

He indicated a square building overlooking the harbor.

Its roof was sound.

So were the roofs nearest it.

Along the lower shore, blue tarpaulins covered gaps where tiles should have been.

People moved beneath them.

I put away the chart.

A harbor boat met us before we reached the quay.

The clerk aboard wore the expression of a man who had expected freight and discovered an argument.

He climbed onto the deck.

Dorran handed him the declarations.

Two ships.

Medical supplies.

Food.

Tools.

Passengers and crew listed separately.

The clerk read until he reached my name.

Then looked up.

I waited.

“You are—”

“Yes.”

His gaze traveled to Eliza.

To the guards behind her.

To Melody, who stood with her hands resting comfortably at her sides.

“I must inform the council.”

“Please do.”

“There may be a delay in granting an audience.”

I took the folded letter from my coat.

“Give them this. We will be at the harbor office.”

He accepted it.

His hands were steadier when he returned to his boat.

At least he knew where to go.

We went ashore with a small party.

The rest remained with the ships.

Tamsin oversaw the mooring while Dorran kept the unloading crews ready. Nothing would be left in an estate warehouse merely because it was convenient.

At the foot of the gangplank, a woman waited with a leather bag.

She was older than I had expected.

Her dark hair was threaded with grey, and one sleeve had been mended with cloth that did not match.

“Uriah Grey?”

“Yes.”

“Bera. Arwen worked from my rooms.”

I shook her hand.

“How are the seven?”

Her eyes moved briefly toward the hill.

“Alive. All together when I saw them yesterday.”

I let out a breath.

“Have you been allowed to treat them?”

“Once since your ship left. The boy has a cough. His mother keeps asking whether they missed the next sailing.”

“Tell her she hasn’t.”

Bera looked at me for a moment.

Then nodded.

The council sent three people.

A woman named Councillor Teren led them.

She wore a plain coat, carried no staff of office, and introduced her companions before herself.

One was a clerk.

The other commanded the harbor watch.

“We received your earlier correspondence,” she said.

“I know.”

Her mouth tightened.

“The council has not reached agreement concerning Lord Carven’s emergency measures.”

“Has it agreed that children can be held for household debts?”

“No.”

“Then we can begin there.”

She looked toward the open office door.

People had slowed on the quay outside.

Listening.

I placed the list on the table.

“I want to see these seven people. I want them released from that house. Any claim concerning money can be presented where they are free to answer it.”

Teren read the names.

Then she turned to the watch commander.

“Captain, accompany us.”

The road above the harbor was steep.

We passed a public trough with a dry channel leading into it.

A girl stood beside it holding two empty pails.

When she saw the councillor, she stepped back against the wall.

Teren stopped.

“Has the cart been?”

The girl shook her head.

“It was due at the morning bell.”

“I know.”

The councillor looked toward her clerk.

He made a note.

We walked on.

I wanted to ask what a note would do for an empty pail.

Instead, I watched Teren send the clerk back down the road to the harbor.

“What have you asked him to do?”

“Bring one of our carts from the upper spring.”

“And the road charge?”

“I will answer that when someone asks me for it.”

I looked at her more carefully.

She kept climbing.

The grain yard smelled of dust and warm timber.

Carts stood beneath a long roof.

At the upper end, a low stone building had two barred windows and a heavy wooden door.

I recognized it from the apprentice’s drawing.

A man came down the steps as we entered the yard.

He wore a green coat with Carven’s clasp at the throat.

Four guards stood behind him.

Councillor Teren spoke first.

“Master Rusk. Open the holding house.”

The steward looked past her at me.

“Lord Carven was not informed that a foreign ruler intended to visit his property.”

“Then inform him,” I said.

He returned his attention to Teren.

“These people are retained under the estate’s emergency provisions.”

“I have brought the harbor watch to examine that.”

“They have no authority over private obligations.”

“Then show me the order authorizing confinement.”

Rusk’s jaw tightened.

“They are being housed pending settlement.”

From behind the door, someone coughed.

I looked at the lock.

“Open it.”

The steward did not move.

A guard near his shoulder adjusted his grip on a short spear.

Eliza saw it.

So did the watch commander.

“Keep that down,” the captain said.

Rusk spread his hands.

“There is no need for threats. I can send for the account books.”

“You can send for them after the door is open,” Teren replied.

For a moment, I thought he would continue arguing.

Then footsteps sounded inside.

A woman’s voice.

“Who is there?”

I stepped closer.

“My name is Uriah. Captain Dorran has returned.”

Silence.

Then a smaller voice asked, “With the ship?”

“Yes.”

The steward looked toward the sound.

That was when I understood how much of his position depended on the people inside remaining quiet.

Teren held out her hand.

“The key, Rusk.”

He gave it to one of the guards.

Not to her.

The guard climbed the steps and unlocked the door.

It opened inward.

The room beyond was dim.

A woman stood near the threshold with a boy leaning against her side and a girl holding her skirt.

Behind them were four adults.

I counted once.

Then looked at their faces.

Eliza moved beside me.

Bera went past us.

“Let me see him, Annet.”

The mother bent so the healer could examine the boy.

The girl looked at the open yard.

She did not step outside.

I took out the list.

“Annet Vale?”

The woman nodded.

“Lio and Fara?”

She drew the children closer.

I read the remaining names.

Her brother, Dain.

Merris.

Olan.

Tessa.

Each answered.

Seven people.

All there.

Bera asked for them to come into the daylight.

Annet took one step.

The steward moved into her path.

“Examination does not constitute permission to depart.”

Teren turned on him.

“Move.”

He ignored her.

“Until the accounts are settled, these people remain—”

Dain pushed forward.

“Let my sister through.”

One of the estate guards caught his arm.

Dain jerked away.

The guard raised a short baton.

I felt the movement before I had fully turned.

A curve of air settled between them.

The baton struck it with a flat crack.

The sound carried across the yard.

Everyone stopped.

I stood beside the steps with one hand raised.

The shield covered Dain, the mother, and the two children.

It left Bera room to work.

I had practiced that opening until I could make it without looking.

“Put it down,” I said.

The guard stared at the space where his baton had stopped.

Then lowered his hand.

The steward backed away.

“You cannot bring force onto—”

“Your man just tried to strike someone in front of the council’s watch,” Eliza said.

She had not drawn her sword.

She did not need to.

The watch commander stepped between Rusk and the door.

“Constable. Take the baton.”

His man obeyed.

Rusk looked at Teren.

“You will answer to Lord Carven.”

“Yes,” she said. “I will.”

Then she faced Annet.

“You and your family are free to leave this house. So are the others. The council will hear any financial claims in public.”

“Today?” I asked.

Teren met my eyes.

“Today.”

I lowered the shield slightly.

Kept it between the estate men and the steps.

Bera guided Lio outside.

His sister followed.

The walk down through the yard was slow.

Dain limped.

Merris carried a cloth bundle that seemed to contain everyone’s possessions.

Olan stopped to retrieve a cap from beneath the bench by the door.

Nobody told him to hurry.

At the gate, Annet looked back.

I did too.

The holding-house door remained open.

The watch commander had posted two of his own people beside it.

Teren stayed with him to secure the records.

She had asked us to attend the hearing at the council house that afternoon.

I had agreed.

But first, we walked the seven down to Bera’s rooms.

Lio sat on a stool while the healer listened to his chest.

His sister stood beside the window.

She kept looking at the harbor.

I followed her gaze.

Dorran’s ship was visible between two roofs.

“That one?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Will it go before we’re ready?”

“No.”

She turned toward me.

“You said that before.”

For a moment, I did not understand.

Then I remembered the quay.

The captain offering them passage.

The list already written.

“You were told that last time,” I said.

She nodded.

I crouched beside her.

“This time, someone from our party will stay with you until you board. Eliza has arranged it.”

Fara looked toward the captain standing by the door.

Eliza nodded once.

The girl returned to the window.

After a while, she let go of the fabric she had been twisting in both hands.

Bera had very little space.

We brought water from the ships.

Food.

Clean clothes.

One of Cael’s healers had traveled with the supply vessel; Dorran sent her up as soon as we called.

By midday, the seven had eaten.

Annet’s brother sat with his injured leg supported and his sister’s receipts spread across his knee.

“I had these,” he told me.

“I know.”

“He wouldn’t read them.”

I looked down at the little slips.

Careful marks.

Dates.

Amounts small enough that, in Greykeep’s accounts, I might have passed them without pausing.

For this family, they represented water.

Bread.

Days of work.

“We’ll take copies to the hearing,” I said.

Dain gathered them carefully.

This time, he handed them over.

I found a quiet corner while Eliza settled the guard arrangements.

My hands had begun trembling.

Only a little.

I pressed them against my knees until they stopped.

Melody appeared beside me with a cup.

“Drink.”

I accepted it.

She leaned against the wall.

“The shield was good.”

“I nearly covered Bera’s arm.”

“But you didn’t.”

I looked toward the room where the children sat.

Fara had finally accepted some bread.

Lio was asleep against his mother.

For several moments, I could not speak.

Melody waited.

Then I said, “Evelyn should know.”

“We’ll find a ship carrying letters.”

I nodded.

Not a dream.

Not a wish whispered over the sea.

A letter someone could put into her hand.

I wrote it at Bera’s little table.

All seven are out.

Then I paused.

Through the window, I could see the empty trough down the road.

A cart had drawn up beside it.

The girl with the pails stood first in line.

I added:

The boy is being treated. The council is hearing the matter this afternoon. We have more work here, but the seven are safe with our people.

Below that, I wrote something only for my wife.

Your place behind my shoulder felt very empty today. The lesson helped. I thought you should know.

I folded the page.

Dorran had learned of a trader leaving for the mainland with the evening tide.

The letter would go aboard.

Then I stood, straightened my coat, and went to collect the receipts.

We had people waiting at the council house.

This time, they would have to read them.