“For Ash and Answer!” the man on the riverboat shouted, and his voice cut the lane like a blade.
“That’s their cry,” Brenn spat. “They mean to make this a sermon.”
“We will not be their congregation,” I said. I shoved the ledger into Corin’s hands. “Corin—read them names aloud. Let the city hear where the coin went.”
Corin’s fingers shook but his voice didn’t. He flipped the pages and began, low and precise. “Paid to: Merchant Halven—one chest of bolts. Paid to: Dockmaster Jory—three crates. Paid to: ‘Custodian’—various sums.” His words carried over the press like a bell; faces turned, some to scowl, some to look away.
“Halven?” a woman near the Moor shouted. “Halven’s been feeding guards since the king’s time!”
“Then Halven answers in the square,” I called. “If men took coin and rope
