Enslaved by the Crown: The Weakest Slave Has the Strongest Ability

Eldrin remained beneath the staircase until the voices had moved to the far side of the warehouse.

He didn’t leave immediately.

The close call had taught him something useful.

These people were not waiting for the ledger to appear.

They were trying to reconstruct the courier’s movements.

Which meant they didn’t know where it was either.

Eldrin slowly looked back toward the table.

The papers spread across it were the most useful thing he’d found all night.

He needed to know why.

He waited until the men began arguing near the opposite wall, then slipped from the shadows.

The table was only a few steps away.

He crouched beside it.

The first document was a route sheet.

The second was a list of names.

The third...

Eldrin stopped.

It was a merchant dispatch.

He read the heading again.

Briarhook Trading Company — Internal Correspondence

That made no sense.

The retrieval request he’d received came from a separate merchant house.

Why were they searching for the same ledger?

He read further.

A shipment had been delayed.

Then another.

Several entries referred to payments made to intermediaries whose names had been crossed out.

Nothing immediately connected to the missing courier.

Eldrin turned the page.

There.

A notation written in the margin.

Courier changed route. Instructions received directly from office.

He stared at it.

That was different from the bureau’s report.

According to the request, the courier’s last known route had been Briarhook Road.

This note implied he had changed it himself.

Eldrin read the next line.

Meeting confirmed at Westmere Estate.

His brow furrowed.

Westmere.

Not the castle.

Not the river warehouse.

Not the place he’d been searching.

He turned another page.

The handwriting changed.

A second person had written beneath the original note.

He was told not to involve the company guards.

Eldrin’s eyes narrowed.

That wasn’t a routine instruction.

Why would a courier carrying a valuable ledger be told to travel without protection?

Unless someone wanted him alone.

He looked at the names again.

One name appeared beside the courier’s assignment.

Daven Rusk — Senior Dispatch Clerk.

Eldrin memorized it.

He turned to the next sheet.

A rough sketch of the old trading district.

Three locations had been marked.

The castle.

The river warehouse.

And one building farther east.

Westmere Estate.

Eldrin stared at the map.

Everything suddenly fit differently.

The courier hadn’t vanished randomly.

Someone had changed his route.

Someone inside the company had sent him somewhere else.

And these men had been following the trail left behind after that decision.

The ledger was only one part of the problem.

The real question was....

Who had changed the courier’s instructions, and why?

A floorboard creaked.

Eldrin immediately lowered the paper.

Footsteps.

One of the men was returning.

He slipped the document back exactly where he’d found it and moved into the nearest patch of darkness.

The man crossed the room.

He picked up the route sheet.

"Westmere."

The second man joined him.

"You sure?"

"The note’s genuine."

"Then that’s where he went."

"Maybe."

The second man looked toward the map.

"If he reached Westmere, the ledger might already be gone."

"Then we’d better get there first."

Eldrin’s eyes narrowed.

There it was.

Another lead.

But more importantly....

a destination.

He waited until the two men left the warehouse.

Only then did he emerge.

He looked toward the eastern road.

Westmere Estate.

.....

Westmere Estate was farther east than Eldrin had expected.

He followed the river road until the warehouses thinned and the old trading district gave way to scattered buildings surrounded by overgrown fields.

The road had been poorly maintained for years.

Grass pushed through the cracks in the stone, and several of the old lamps had gone dark.

Eldrin kept to the edge of the road.

He had no reason to approach the estate openly.

The map he’d taken from the warehouse had shown Westmere as a large property, but from the road it looked more like a forgotten country manor. A high wall enclosed the grounds, though parts of it had collapsed. Beyond the gate stood a long stone house with two smaller buildings on either side.

Eldrin stopped beneath a tree.

Another abandoned place.

He didn’t trust it.

The warehouse had taught him enough.

He stayed there for several minutes, watching.

Eventually, he noticed something.

A light appeared in one of the side buildings.

It lasted perhaps ten seconds.

Then disappeared.

Eldrin waited.

Nothing.

A few minutes later, it appeared again.

Not a candle in a window.

A moving light.

Someone carrying a lantern.

They’re here.

He moved closer.

The wall was too high to climb without being seen, but there was a section near the northern side where the stones had collapsed inward.

Eldrin crouched beside it.

The shadows were deep.

He focused.

Shadow Step.

The world snapped sideways.

His stomach lurched.

He stumbled out on the other side and grabbed the wall to steady himself.

The distance wasn’t much.

Perhaps eight feet.

Still, it was twice what he’d managed during his first successful attempt.

Eldrin glanced at the display.

Mana — 13

He frowned.

That was more than he’d expected the movement to cost.

I need to get better at this.

He moved through the overgrown grounds.

The main house remained dark.

The light came from the detached building near the rear.

Eldrin approached slowly and looked through a cracked window.

Three men.

A table.

A lantern.

Documents spread across the surface.

One of them was the same man he’d seen at the warehouse.

Eldrin immediately stepped back from the window.

They had arrived before him.

He stayed low and listened.

"...we searched the castle twice."

"Then stop wasting time there."

"We don’t know if the courier even reached this place."

"He did."

The third man spoke for the first time.

"You have the message, don’t you?"

A sheet of paper rustled.

"He was told to come here."

"By whom?"

A pause.

"That’s what we’re trying to determine."

Eldrin’s attention sharpened.

That wasn’t the answer he expected.

The men weren’t working together as smoothly as he’d assumed.

One of them sounded impatient.

Another sounded worried.

The first man lowered his voice.

"Did Rusk send the instructions?"

"No."

"Then who did?"

Silence.

Eldrin’s eyes narrowed.

Rusk.

The name from the warehouse.

Daven Rusk.

Senior Dispatch Clerk.

He leaned closer to the window.

A chair scraped across the floor.

"Enough."

The oldest man stood.

"We find the ledger first. Then we worry about who changed the route...."

Eldrin moved toward the building’s rear entrance.

He slipped inside.

The hallway smelled of damp wood.

Voices carried faintly through the wall.

Eldrin kept moving.

A study.

An empty kitchen.

A storage room.

Then another door.

He stopped.

A line of muddy footprints crossed the floor.

Fresh.

They led toward the study.

Eldrin followed them and found a small desk against the wall.

A drawer stood half-open.

Inside was a single folded paper.

He took it out.

The writing was hurried.

Only a few lines.

I don’t know who changed the order.

If something happens to me, the ledger isn’t with me anymore.

I left it where no one from the company would think to search.

Eldrin read it twice.

Then again.

So the courier knew.

He had realized someone inside the company was betraying him.

And he’d hidden the ledger somewhere they wouldn’t look.

Eldrin folded the note.

The voices outside suddenly grew louder.

A door opened.

Someone was coming.

He glanced around the room.

No shadows deep enough.

No time to search for another exit.

His gaze landed beneath the desk.

Dark enough.

He dropped to the floor just as footsteps entered the room.

A man’s boots stopped only a few feet away.

Eldrin held his breath.

The man opened the drawer.

Empty.

"Someone’s been here."

Another voice answered from the doorway.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

A pause.

Then...

"Search the house."

Eldrin’s eyes narrowed.

They knew.

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