By ten in the morning, Senior Examiner Varo Nenn had carried the problem to Councilor Elna Vesk in the Senate House. Nenn’s forty years of archival knowledge proved more effective than an armed squad of court guards.
‘Under Article Twenty-Two of the Imperial Charter,’ Nenn explained. He laid an ancient town statute on Vesk’s desk, ‘in a declared state of high-pressure siege, the Town Board has the total power to commandeer all naval war reserves within the city walls, provided that the current commercial value is paid in silver and the merchant is held fully harmless from private contract bonds.’
Councilor Vesk dipped her iron quill into the vermilion ink and signed Procurement Order Thirteen-Six-Twenty-Three without looking up. ‘Supply order the cloth, Varo. Pay Orrin three silver coins from the emergency defense fund. If Master Sorell’s exam guards try to enforce their bond against that weaving shed, Sergeant Kray has orders to arrest the exam guards and lock them in the granary cellar.’
Twenty minutes later, Pella and four river wagon drivers carried the final ninety yards of heavy reed cloth out of Orrin’s loft in broad daylight, loading the heavy, fragrant bolts onto a timber heavy cart. Master Orrin stood in his doorway. He grabbed his signed council indemnity and three shiny silver coins, his face bathed in tears of deep relief. The fabric was secured.
