Chapter 20

The following week the soldiers brought less food. Nothing was missing from their rations just smaller portions of everything. Ilaria decided they would move to two meals per day to accommodate. Father barely noticed. He spent almost no time at home now. They had stopped sharing meals, as Ilaria was always sleeping by the time he returned home. He was a somber man now, speaking little, and eating less. Upon returning home late at night he would drink his ration of wine in silence and then quickly retreat to his quarters for sleep. He was unwilling to share any more of the happenings in the Low Ward and curious as he was Arios was still hesitant to press him on it.

Ilaria spent her days locked away, only appearing to prepare and eat her meals. She slept for long hours and while awake was consumed by her writing. Arios knew not of what she wrote but any time she was not abed he could hear the furious scratching of her quill.

For Arios the hours passed slow but the days flew. He allotted the periods of lightest rain for training, drilling all the movements Darios had taught him. But without Darios to teach and Ilaria to work with, little improvement could be made. At all other times, he busied himself with books. There were few in the household save for Father’s collection —mainly books on building techniques, histories as well as some city plans.

The plans were of particular interest to Arios. They detailed much of his father’s work, in particular his restoration of the river wall. He poured over these for hours, he needed to learn this work. His father was so valued by the council and most importantly by Lord Kalydor because he was the only one with this knowledge. He was allowed to move freely and take charge of the city’s defenses for this reason.

There was so still much he did not understand. Father’s sketches were confusing and the words scribbled upon them may as well have been in another tongue. There were surprisingly, a large number of references to the Glintclaw as well as mentions of a mineral known as halite. It seemed there were many deposits of this mineral around the city and it had made repairing the river wall a very unique challenge. Arios was not sure what halite was but Father had been determined to keep it from getting wet.

Each day became more like the last as they began to blur into each other. On the third ration day, the soldiers brought no fish.

“How is possible that the city’s stores are diminished so quickly?”

“Well… Father said half the stores were lost in the fire.” Arios stared across the low table at Ilaria confused.

“Kenosia’s stores were supposed to last for years.”

“Well, yes…” he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Perhaps they lost more than Father thought.”

“Or, they are keeping it from us.

“I do not believe Father would help them if they were to do such a thing.”

“We know they are doing it in the Low Ward, yet Father still works with them. He has no other choice.” Ilaria was eating at a hurried pace, shoveling the lentils into her mouth.

“Even if you are right, what can we do?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“I don’t know! But someone needs to do something!”

Ilaria glared at him waiting for an answer but Arios had none. What could they do? What could anyone do? They finished eating in silence. When she had finished Ilaria stomped out of the room disappearing down the hall.

Arios sat, alone, pondering over his sister’s words. They had been trapped at home for weeks. He had no way of determining how dire their circumstances were. Was the situation in the Low Ward truly as awful as Father had described? And even that had been days ago, what was it like now? Had things improved? Perhaps that was why their rations had been so affected. He could not come up with a solution without first uncovering all the missing details. He had stayed too long inside. Tonight, he would visit the Low Ward. Consequences be damned, he needed to see things for himself.

He waited at the low table until well past midnight. Finally, he heard the courtyard gate creak open as Father returned home. As he walked through the garden Arios quietly rose slipping out into the hall. He would wait another hour in his room. Until Father slept.

Arios passed Ilaria’s chamber on the way to his own. He could see no candlelight coming from underneath her door. This was good, she was already in bed. She would have wanted to join him if she knew. It would be better to tell her tomorrow when there was news to tell. He prayed he would find something, for her sake.

He sat in his bed, darkness all around. Listening for his father through the pounding of the rain. After a short while, he heard him stumbling down the hallway. It would be safe to leave soon. He sat a while longer just to be certain. Then grabbing his cloak, he made his way out into the night.

The rain came down in sheets. Spending any time in this deluge would render his cloak useless and soak him to the bone. There were porticos on the busier roads but the heavy rains provided a more important kind of cover. It kept the back streets empty. The Middle Ward had been peaceful since the first day. There was little reason for patrols and even less in this weather. No soldier wanted his fine plate tarnished by the rain. Still, Arios walked quickly.

He could see scarcely twenty steps ahead. The rain showered the city in a wash of dark paint. Its pounding drowning out even his own footsteps. It was hard to imagine anyone else being foolish enough to venture outside but ahead of him the downpour there was a shape. A shadow. It was impossible to tell what it was. Was it moving towards him? Away from him? Was it even moving at all?

Fear gripped him. No Kenosian would be out in this storm. Was it some sort of beast? A Kyrithon assassin? The shadow began to fade. It was moving away from him. He steeled himself, mustering all of his courage. Whatever the shape was perhaps it would lead him to answers.

He followed the shadow, pacing himself so that it would neither fade nor grow. They walked a long way. Passed the Market, passed the Barracks but not down into the Low Ward. The shadow stuck to the backstreets. Whatever it was, it wanted to avoid any area that might have soldiers. Eventually, they came to a district that Arios did not recognize. All he could see were rows of enormous buildings. Storehouses.

Abruptly the shadow disappeared! It must have turned a corner! Arios began to run; he could not let it escape. His feet pounded on the pavement but suddenly they could find no footing. He was falling, crashing to the cobblestone, and splashing to a stop. He let out a pained grunt. What had happened? He peered behind him and caught the glimmer of bronze in the moonlight. There was at least one soldier here but he lay in the road face down.

The man was dead. Stabbed through the neck. Arios scrambled to his feet a panic setting in. These storehouses held the rations for the entire Middle Ward. The Kyrithon had returned to burn more of their stores! He needed to find them and then raise the alarm!

He galloped forward! But as he came upon the corner, he heard voices ahead. He slammed to a halt stopping just before the turn and peered carefully around it. Standing under a portico was a group of at least a dozen dark shapes. They were whispering animatedly and seemed to be arguing.

“I said no killing,” hissed a voice. “The soldiers are not the ones responsible for this! They are victims just as much as we are!”

It was a strange thing for them to argue over but Arios had no time. He needed to find a patrol and sound the alarm. He needed to—

—Something grabbed his shoulder and he felt the sharp cold sting of steel press into his back!

“Do not move,” commanded an unknown whisper.