Chapter 23
The earth shook. The stars faded and the sun grew cold. From above the moon fell, crashing down upon the land. The tide rose to meet it and the soil recoiled in fear. Arios watched it all, as the waves crashed around him, pulling him farther out and deeper down. The world sank and out of deep waters climbed the great beasts of the ocean. They crawled out of the darkness lidless eyes and writhing limbs eager to claim dominion over this new plane. The city drowned…
“Arios? Arios, are you listening to me?”
He was on the river wall, with Father and Erykos. Below them, the Kallidra frothed and raged, surging higher and higher. It was only a few feet from the rampart now.
“Y-yes Father, there is something wrong with the wall.”
“It is cracking,” murmured Erykos, “But why?”
“Indeed, the surface of the wall has fractured along this section. The damage appears superficial for now but we would do well to understand its cause before it falls further into disrepair.” Father was crouched down, observing a tiny fissure that had opened up on the walkway.
A curious thought entered Arios’s mind as he recalled Father’s journals, “Could this have caused by halite?”
Father stood up frowning, “What do you know of halite,” he asked.
“Nothing Father, I-I have been reading your journals,” he confessed. “You mention there is halite underneath the walls and that it makes repairs challenging.”
“What is halite,” pressed Erykos, “I have not heard you speak of this.”
“It was before you came to me,” answered Father, “You did not work on the foundations… Halite is a maddening material. It can appear to be quite solid, good for building, but the smallest of changes can cause it to collapse. In Kenosia it is the river that makes it so troublesome. Halite dissolves into water and suddenly what was once stable ground crumbles in on itself.”
Erykos nodded slowly but he did not seem satisfied.
Father turned to him now, a look of pride in his eyes and yet something darker lingered behind it, “You should have asked me before going through my writings but I am glad you are finally taking an interest in my work.” He bent back down looking at the cracks, “I had thought the halite well sealed but perhaps you are right Arios.” He paused, trembling in the rain a sour look creeping over his face, “If it is the halite, there is nothing we can do until the rain passes. It would be too dangerous to expose it in this weather. I must inform Lord Kalydor.”
From below a voice called out to them, “Master Daidal?”
In the courtyard below was a soldier. He bore the insignia of Kalydor’s house, the Kraken.
“What is it soldier?”
“Lord Kalydor requests your presence at the Old Gate. There is some sort of gathering. It is urgent. I am to take you there at once.”
Father turned to Arios, “Arios perhaps—”
“—I am coming with you Father.”
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He sighed in resignation, “Very well. Erykos you best come as well.”
Erykos snapped to attention, “Yes sir!”
“We are coming down,” shouted Father, “Lead the way.”
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The Old Gate was in the Middle Ward. In its day it had been the main entrance to Kenosia but that had been before the city’s expansion into the Low Ward and the Stacks. There was little traffic there now, saved only for the ceremonial entrance of royalty.
A large crowd had gathered around the rostrum by the gate. The people were silent, yet the air was charged, a seething tension rippled just beneath the surface. They were listening intently, waiting, as though the wrong word might ignite the brewing storm.
They pushed their way through the throng. At its head stood a line of soldiers. Shields up and spears at the ready. They drew apart to let them pass. Standing on the rostrum was Lord Kalydor and the rest of his council. Behind them, hanging from the Old Gate were five bodies.
They were the children. Arios felt his body go limp. He staggered forward, catching himself upon the stairs. He felt Father’s hands grab onto him, gripping him tight. Father was white as a ghost. His eyes were wide and filled with rage.
“These boys were slain by agents of the Kyrithon.” It was Lord Kalydor. “They speak of peaceful resolution, of their love of the common man. And yet, their failure to break the will of this great city has driven them to take our children in heinous retribution,” he spat the words each one dripping with disgust. “See how empty the words of these heathens truly are.”
The crowd began to murmur and voice cried out, “Why should we believe you?”
“Do you think I strung these boys up like livestock to be butchered,” His voice was quite but the crowd leaned in. He had a way about him, Lord Kalydor, the softer he spoke the more you wanted to listen. “I am the Steward of Kenosia. Each of her children is as dear to me as though they were my very own.” His voice wavered and he turned away from the crowd. Composing himself he continued, “I say to you again, the Kyrithon have infiltrated our city. It is thanks to good men like Captain Darios” —he gestured to the back of the rostrum and Darios stepped forward— “that more innocent were not slain yestereve. It was he and his men’s heroic efforts that defeated a band of Kyrithon warriors.”
Again, a voice cried out, “We know you, Lord Kalydor. Or we did, but since the siege all has changed. Each day soldiers carry out atrocities in your name. Each day the nobles feast and drink while the poor starve. We do not believe you hung these boys up for all to see. But if I went to the Low Ward now dead boys would not be hard to find. Not carved up by Kyrithon blades but poisoned by Kenosian greed.”
The words cut through the Steward and he seemed to shrink before the crowd.
“I know,” he whispered, “It has become clear to me that I have taken ill council" —Lord Demarcus and Argyros shifted uneasily behind him— “I have lost the trust of my people.” His voice grew louder, “But I swear to you all, there will be no more preference given to the nobles of this city. I will not let Kenosia starve so that a chosen few may remain fat. I have spent many hours speaking with Master Daidal, a man you all know. He has helped me to see the way and now I ask that he would speak on my behalf to assure you that I have your best interests at heart.”
Father stepped forward, taking Lord Kalydor’s place at the dais, “People of Kenosia, you know me” —the crowd nodded in agreement— “and you know our Steward. There are some men who would trade your lives for an extra bottle of wine or to line their pockets with just a little more coin but Lord Kalydor is not one of them.” The rest of the council had disappeared from the rostrum. “I have known our Lord since I was a babe, he is not a perfect man but his love for Kenosia and his dedication to its people has never wavered. As you know me, believe that I know him. The Kyrithon seek to divide us but they will not break us. Together, with great men like Lord Kalydor and heroes like Captain Darios, we will rid them from our lands as we rid the corruption from our city!”
Whispers through the crowd and then suddenly cheers. First small pockets that quickly rose and fell, but as more and more joined in the cheers grew stronger. But amid the rising cheers, a voice slipped through. Sharp and clear.
“They are lying to you.”
The people fell silent. Arios felt his stomach sink.
“Our Steward speaks of heroes and great deeds. A captain saving lives and slaying heathens. But the captain is no hero. The children hanging before you were not killed by the Kyrithon, they were murdered by this captain.”
“Lies,” shouted Darios, “Show yourself! So that I may cut you down for such slander!”
“I know that this is the truth because I was there, captain. I saw it all.” It was a young voice and familiar. Arios did not even need to see her step out of the crowd to know, it was Ilaria.