Chapter 8 · Crown Locks the Gates

"Read it," Victor said, and let the parchment drop.

It hit the flagstones face up, wax cracked clean down the middle of the crowned hawk seal, and the words underneath jumped out at Ryan before his brain caught up with his eyes.

TREASON. REPUDIATION OF SOVEREIGN DEBT INSTRUMENT. EXECUTION AUTHORIZED ON CONFIRMATION.

Then the horns started. Not one. Three, spaced clean across the valley — the north road, the south bridge, the old mill crossing — like somebody had been sitting on a signal, waiting for him to say the wrong thing out loud.

Matthias's face went the color of old ash. "That's a real seal," he said, mostly to himself, like saying it twice would make it less true. "Boy, that's not paper you can argue with. That's real."

"Every road out gets a checkpoint by dark," Victor said, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve like none of this cost him a single coin. "Every cart searched, every name matched against a list. You get held right here until a royal magistrate rides up to confirm the charge. Call it seventy-two hours. Less if the roads are dry.