Chapter 232: The Names She Left Behind

The funeral rites were already underway when Paris entered the courtyard.

The women and children had been moved earlier. Those gathered around Queen Hecuba’s bier were soldiers, priests, elderly citizens, and officials who had remained behind to serve the city.

Hector stood beside the bier, one hand resting against the wood.

He had not spoken since the procession entered the courtyard.

Beneath the eastern colonnade, Paris kept his mother’s list hidden beneath his cloak. He had already shown it to Hector and Lysander in the war room. The names were not proof of treason, but they were the people Hecuba had been watching before her death.

One of them stood near the western columns.

The harbour official wore a dark sash and carried a clay tablet beneath his arm. He spoke with two guards, yet his eyes kept drifting toward the temple entrance.

Paris crossed the courtyard.

Lysander was watching both the ceremony and the temple.

"The harbour official," Paris said.

Lysander followed his gaze.

"He’s still here."

"He’s been watching the entrance since the procession began. He also asked where the relocated families were taken."

Lysander’s expression tightened.

"Did anyone answer him?"

"Not before I reached him."

"Then bring him in."

Paris glanced at him.

"Now?"

"Now. Quietly."

Paris turned toward the nearest guard.

"Bring that man here."

The guard needed only a moment to identify the official before crossing the courtyard with another soldier.

The man noticed them approaching and took a step back.

The first guard caught his arm.

"Prince Paris," the official said, keeping his voice low, "I have done nothing wrong."

"Then you have nothing to fear from a few questions."

"I’m needed at the harbour."

"Your work can wait."

The official glanced toward the bier.

"During the Queen’s funeral?"

Paris’s expression hardened.

"Especially now."

The guards escorted him across the courtyard. Several men turned to watch, but the priests continued the rites, and Hector remained beside Hecuba.

Lysander stepped forward.

"Search him."

The official stiffened.

"You have no right—"

"Search him," Lysander repeated.

One guard took the tablet from beneath the man’s arm. The other searched his belt and cloak.

They found a broken strip of clay, a seal, and a small bronze key.

Paris took the clay strip.

"What is this?"

"A damaged record."

"Records don’t usually need to be hidden beneath a man’s cloak."

The official fell silent.

Lysander held out his hand, and the guard gave him the key.

"Where did you get this?"

The official glanced toward the temple entrance.

Paris caught the movement.

"Take him inside."

The man pulled against the guards.

"My prince, I serve Troy."

"Then you can prove it."

They took him through a side door into a small chamber used by the temple attendants. It contained a table, two stools, and a brazier that had gone cold.

Outside, the funeral continued.

Paris placed the broken strip of clay on the table.

"Read it."

The official remained standing.

"It’s nothing important."

Paris looked at the guards.

"Put him in the chair."

They forced him down.

Lysander stood across from him, turning the key between his fingers.

"You were on Queen Hecuba’s list."

The colour drained from the official’s face.

"You knew?"

"She was investigating the harbour."

"I had no part in her death."

"Then tell us why you were watching the temple."

"I was looking for the relocated families."

"Why?"

"I needed to know which harbour workers had been moved. Their names affect the grain records."

Paris leaned over the table.

"That explanation might have worked before we found this."

He tapped the broken strip.

The official stared at it.

"This message came from the harbour. Who gave it to you?"

"No one."

Paris picked up the seal.

"And this?"

"My seal."

"We know it’s yours."

"It was used on official records."

"And the key?"

The official stared at the floor.

Lysander’s voice remained calm.

"Answer him."

The man rubbed his palms against his knees.

"The key opens a storehouse."

"Which one?" Paris asked.

"A small storehouse near the harbour."

"What’s inside?"

"Grain."

Paris stepped closer.

"Don’t lie to me."

"I’m not."

"You were carrying a message during the funeral, watching the temple, and carrying a key to a storehouse. My mother died because someone inside Troy gave information to the Greeks. You’re on her list. You won’t leave this room until we know whether you helped them."

The official looked toward the door.

"No one told me about the killing."

"That wasn’t my question."

His breathing grew uneven.

"I gave them schedules."

Paris’s hand closed around the edge of the table.

"What schedules?"

"Guard changes. Harbour movements. Which nights the grain boats arrived."

Lysander’s expression shifted, but his voice remained steady.

"Who received them?"

"I never saw him."

"Then how did you deliver them?"

"Through the storehouse."

The official glanced at the key.

"There was a loose stone behind the eastern wall. I left the tablets there. Someone collected them later."

"Who?"

"I don’t know."

Paris struck the table with his palm.

"You knew enough to help them burn our food."

"I didn’t know they would attack the granary."

"You knew they were Greeks."

The official lowered his head.

"I knew they wanted information."

"That was enough."

For a moment, the bells outside were the only sound.

Lysander picked up the broken strip.

"What does this message say?"

The official hesitated.

Paris moved toward him.

"Speak."

"It says the passage was used."

"Which passage?"

"The temple passage."

Lysander turned toward the door.

"Who knows about it?"

"I don’t know."

"You’re lying."

"I swear I’m not. I was only told to watch the movement near the temple. I wasn’t told who would use it."

Paris looked at the key again.

"Take him to the lower guardroom. Keep him alive."

The guards hauled the official out of the chair.

He stumbled toward the door.

"If you kill me, you’ll lose the only man who can identify the handoff."

Paris stopped him.

"Then you’d better hope we need you alive."

The guards led him away.

Paris remained beside the table, staring at the broken strip of clay.

Outside, the priests began the final prayers for Queen Hecuba.

Near the temple entrance, Dexion stood beside an older guard. The boy noticed a fresh line cut into the stone beside the hidden door.

He pointed at it.

The guard crouched to examine the mark, then immediately called for Lysander.

Lysander stepped into the passage and studied the stone.

Paris followed him.

"Was it there before?"

The guard shook his head.

"No, my lord."

Dexion kept his eyes on the mark.

Lysander touched it lightly.

The funeral bells continued above them.

Below, Miros and the others were somewhere in the dark.

And now someone in Troy knew where the entrance was.