The Unknown Enemy.Chapter 10.

Chapter 10.

 

Where Calm Turns to Watchfulness.

 

Prince Mardan read the message from King Syldan twice, his face pale. He returned to the dining room where his wife, Princess Bethan, was breakfasting with their daughter, Grace. Bethan looked up and smiled, but the smile vanished when she saw her husband's expression.

“A problem?” she asked.

Mardan nodded. “I must speak with you. Please, send everyone away.”

Bethan quickly dismissed the nursery maid. Mardan spoke quietly to the footman, who bowed and left the room. Bethan looked around the empty, quiet hall.

“You know,” she said, “this is very unusual. I cannot remember a time since we were married when there was no one else in the room with us.”

“I have had a message from King Syldan,” Mardan said, laying the parchment on the table. The wax seal was broken, but the weight of the news seemed to press down on the room. “It is coded. He would not have written this way unless the matter was grave.”

“Tell me,” Bethan said, drawing Grace closer.

“There has been trouble in the north. Three towers have gone dark. Watchmen have vanished,” Mardan explained. “It wasn't accidents, Bethan. It was Tizard. He is gathering an army of bandits and clansmen. And someone inside the palace has been feeding him secrets.”

Bethan went pale. “A spy? In the King's own household?”

“Yes. And his men are using Wilgan’s name as a banner to rally behind.”

“But Wilgan is here!” Bethan said. “He is under guard. He cannot be involved.”

“I know,” Mardan said gently. “But Tizard is using him regardless. The King says the Foresters are on their way, in disguise. They will arrive here at the estate, not the palace. We must shelter them without drawing attention.”

Bethan steadied herself, her eyes sharpening with resolve. “Then we begin at once. If there is a spy in the palace, we must assume there could be one here.

Mardan frowned. “I hope not, all the people here have been with the family for years. I grew up with most, if not all of them.”

“Even so,” said Bethan. “We must assume that this Tizard could have bribed one or blackmailed or something, someone into helping him.  Everything must look normal. The usual routine, the usual guards.”

 Mardan allowed himself a small, grim smile. “Syldan was right to trust you.”

Bethan squeezed his hand. “He was right to trust you.”

Grace, oblivious, reached for a piece of bread. Bethan brushed a curl from her daughter’s forehead, her movements gentle but her eyes sharp with new resolve.

She rose and looked out of the window at the courtyard. “We already have forty Foresters stationed here. We must use them carefully. We can fold them into the household,a few helping in the stables, a few in the gardens. A few walking the walls, but wearing guards’ cloaks instead of their own.”

Mardan smiled grimly. “So, the estate looks unchanged, but in truth, it becomes a fortress.”

“Exactly,” Bethan said. “We will look unprepared, but we will be ready.”

Mardan let out a slow breath. “Syldan was right. You see the shape of things faster than I do.”

Bethan gave a small, wry smile. “I see what must be done. And we will do it quietly.”

She rested a hand on his arm.

“We keep Wilgan secure. We keep the household calm. We strengthen the estate without appearing to strengthen it. And when the Foresters arrive, we fold them into the pattern as if they were always meant to be here.”

“Do you think that Wigan is involved in this somehow?” Mardan asked. “In many ways, you could not blame him if he is. After all he is locked up . It may be a velvet prison but it  is still a prison,” he said.

Bethan nodded. “Either way, he must be  carefully watched.”

Mardan nodded, resolve settling in his shoulders. “Then we begin.”

Bethan squeezed his hand. “Yes. Before anyone realises the game has changed.”

She hesitated before adding, “I will go to Prince Beldan’s estate for a time. His wife, Naeve, will need a companion with the new baby coming so soon. It gives us a perfect reason to move quietly through the country. No one will question it, and it keeps Grace safe. And it keeps Beldan from doing anything rash. He won’t leave his wife’s side now. My being there only anchors him further.”

Mardan nodded. “Then it’s settled.”

The change began almost immediately. A guard on the outer wall turned to ask his partner a question and found a man in a plain, dark cloak standing beside him, hood low, eyes sharp.

“I didn’t hear you come up,” the guard whispered, startled.

“You weren't meant to,” the Forester replied, and moved on.

In the stable yard, a hand paused mid-brush. He could have sworn the yard had been empty a moment ago, but now two strangers crossed it with the easy stride of men who knew exactly where they were going. They didn't hurry. They simply existed, as if they had always been part of the stones.

By noon, the kitchen staff were whispering. A boy carrying a bucket of water pushed open the smokehouse door and nearly dropped his load when a figure stepped out of the shadows. The Forester caught the bucket before it hit the floor, set it upright, and nodded once.

“Careful,” the man said, and vanished.

The boy stood frozen. “They’re everywhere,” he whispered.

The stone wing where Wilgan was kept was no longer merely guarded; it was occupied. A Forester sat on the stairwell, whittling a piece of pine.

Another stood at the window, his gaze fixed on the courtyard. A third walked the corridor with the soft tread of a man who knew every creak in the floorboards.

Bethan stepped onto her balcony and looked down. She saw them, not clustered together, but scattered like seeds.

“Good,” she murmured. “Let Tizard think we are sleeping. I can go safely.”

Mardan called for a rider. He handed over a small, unremarkable scrap of paper to be delivered to King Syldan. It contained only four words:

"Camp 2 is ready."