Harndell Gate

Harndell Gate stands where mercy must pass through iron. Its foundations are older than the present road, laid over a burial verge where nameless defenders were interred with their faces toward the south. Refugees see its lamps before they see its spears: broad doors, toll ledgers, wagon scales, sealed granaries, chalk marks on sleeves, clerks beside armed guards, and surgeons waiting under awnings when the roads bring fever with the hungry. In cruel years the gate decides which caravans become relief, which strangers become citizens, and which generous stories collapse under questioning. It is not a tender place, but it is not without compassion. Caerdun has learned that mercy without order can be devoured by fear, fraud, and spoiled grain before it reaches the people it was meant to save.