"We need to move the shipment tonight. We cannot wait any longer."
Arya handed the details to the twins. The council adjourned, and all of them left for their residences. Midnight arrived, and four men slipped out of the factory with two boxes. Moving through the dark alleys, they reached the outskirts of the city, heading toward Sharvas's territory. Just as they approached their destination, a group of guards surrounded them. The men and their shipment were seized and taken to the pit.
At the pit, Arya stood with the six officers, the twins, and Ashvapati. Several other shipments and men were already assembled, their faces filled with confusion. Murmurs spread—had there been raids across the city? What was inside the boxes? What was truly happening?
Arya stepped forward, his voice cutting through the silence. "We have here five shipments and the men who carried them from the factory. But one shipment is missing. My men tell me the boxes were stolen, and the couriers were outnumbered by the smugglers. Fortunately, the guards and my other friends arrived before we lost everything. The boxes may be gone, but we captured one of the thieves."
Raghav stepped forward, yanking the cloth from the prisoner's face and laying his weapons at Arya's feet. Gasps echoed through the pit. The weapons were unmistakable—intricately decorated, razor-sharp blades carried only by Yamsabha's elite guards. The message was clear: Sharvas was behind the smuggling.
Arya exhaled sharply. "I suspected Sharvas, but what troubled me was the leak within my own ranks. At first, I thought it was Kalanemi. But he is imprisoned, under Ganak's watch, with no way to pass messages outside. Then, I looked around me. Many of you never accepted me. I killed your master. Some of you resented my rule. More importantly, the smuggling had been disrupted, corruption was dwindling, and the easy flow of money was drying up. Someone among us acted not just out of greed but desperation."
Arya continued. "To find the traitor, I gave each officer a different assignment. Each received a letter ordering them to transport shipments to six different cities at different times. Two of you came to me, questioning my sanity. Four of you followed through with the orders, and your shipments were intercepted—except for one. One shipment traveled a rarely used route, and before my guards could reach it, Sharvas's men were already there to claim it."
His gaze locked onto Pravar. "Now, Pravar, what do you think I should do with this captured man? If I kill him, it sends a declaration of war to Sharvas. If I spare him, he might tell me who the informant is. What would you advise?"
Sweat glistened on Pravar's forehead. Shaking his head. "You're making a mistake, Arya. If you suspect me, then you suspect the wrong man. You've surrounded yourself with criminals—how do you know it wasn't one of them? Maybe one of the twins? They spent years stealing, lying, escaping capture. Maybe it was Ganak—his loyalties shifted easily enough from Upendra to you. Or Ashvapati! He has been watching in silence, pretending to be above politics. Who's to say he hasn't been playing both sides all along?"
His voice grew desperate, hands trembling as he pointed at others. "You don't know what you're doing! You can't trust anyone here! I am loyal, Arya! I—"
Pravar's words cut off as he lunged, attempting to escape. But before he could take more than a few steps, Ganak's men tackled him to the ground, pinning him with ease.
Arya walked over, staring down at the struggling officer. "I was never asking for your advice, Pravar. I already knew."
Arya waved at a guard, he stepped forward and sent his spear through the captured guard's chest. The man collapsed.
Arya looked at Pravar who was desperately asking for mercy, before any more words could come out his mouth, the spear pierced his chest.
Pravar and the captured guard were bound and placed inside separate wooden crates. As the lids were nailed shut, Arya leaned in and spoke softly. "Tell Sharvas—for every box he steals, I will send one from my end."