The Unknown Enemy.Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

 

              Whispers Reach the Throne.

 

The candles in the Records Chamber had burned low by the time the first messenger arrived. The room was never truly silent. Even late at night, pens scratched on paper and older clerks whispered over stacks of parchment like bees in a hive.

A young clerk with ink-stained fingers was the first to meet the messenger.

“A beacon report?” the clerk asked, taking the sealed letter. “From where?”

“The North Pass,” the messenger panted. “It’s urgent.”

The clerk nodded and hurried across the room to a large desk at the far end. Thallian, the Chief Clerk, sat there. He was a man who did everything with perfect, tidy movements. He didn't look up as the young man approached.

“Sir,” the clerk whispered, placing the report on the desk. “Another one.”

Thallian stopped writing. That alone was enough to make the young clerk nervous.

“Another?” Thallian repeated.

“Yes, sir. Tower Thirty-Seven lit its fire, but Thirty-Eight stayed dark. A rider named Taren brought the news.”

Thallian set down his pen and opened the report. His eyes moved quickly. When he finished, he picked up two other letters nearby, both marked with the same red wax. He laid all three side by side. Three towers. Three silences. Three warnings.

Just then, another clerk hurried over with a fresh letter. “A complaint from a merchant, sir. He says there are bandits in the North Pass. Unusual activity.”

Thallian read it and frowned. Reports of bandits and strange badges made his heart sink. He gathered the papers into a neat bundle and tied them with a ribbon.

“If any more reports come from the North, bring them to me immediately,” Thallian ordered. He then turned and walked toward the King’s private rooms.

Inside the King’s study, the air was warm and smelled of old books. King Syldan looked up from a map spread across his desk. “You have something for me, Thallian?”

Thallian bowed deeply. “Your Majesty… I think you should see this.”

The King’s eyes narrowed as he read. When he finally looked up, the room felt colder. “How many towers?”

“Three, sire.”

“And these bandits?”

“Two reports, sire. They seem to be acting like a real army.”

The King tapped a drawing of the badge described in the report, the jagged smear of dark and crimson. “I don't recognise this symbol. Do you?”

Thallian shook his head. “What should we do, Your Majesty?”

King Syldan straightened his back. “Send for my council. Send scouts to the mountain passes. And strengthen the northern towers, but do it quietly. I don't want to panic the villages, and I don't want our enemies to know we are ready. We must be invisible until it is time to fight.”

The King paused. “And what of Tizard?”

“Still missing, Your Majesty,” Thallian said. “He escaped custody three months ago, after his arrest by Prince Mardan and Princess Bethan.”

The King’s jaw tightened. “His escape was very worrying.”

Thallian sniffed, “Very inefficient, sire.” “For attacking Travellers on the southern road,” Thallian continued, voice low, “He should have been more closely watched.”

A flicker of anger crossed the King’s face. “A Kingsman who did not obey the law,” he murmured.

          “And his clerk who should have known better.” said Thallian.  “The escort was ambushed. No trace of him since.”

The King’s jaw tightened. “I do not believe in coincidences, Thallian. Keep his file close.” He stood up. “Send for Captain Smike.”

Captain Smike stood in the training yard, watching the new recruits. Their breath rose in pale clouds as they practiced with their wooden swords. The Foresters were the King's best scouts—famous for being silent and steady.

Captain Mylon joined him. “Your nephew is doing well, Smike. He’s fast and sharp.”

Smike grunted, though he felt a flicker of pride. “Aye. Gregan has talent.”

“You should be happy,” Mylon chuckled. “Most recruits struggle, but he passed the tests in half the time.”

“A Smike has been a Forester since the kingdom began,” Smike said. “But I don't want him getting special treatment. He earns his place like everyone else.”

“He will,” Mylon agreed. “He’s already got the look of a Forester. Quiet. Steady. He watches before he speaks.”

“That’s the family curse,” Smike muttered.

Before they could say more, a palace runner sprinted through the gate. “Captain Smike! You are summoned to the King’s study. Right now!”

Smike’s expression changed. “Something’s wrong.” He looked at Mylon. “Keep an eye on the lad.”

“Always,” Mylon replied.

When Smike entered, he didn’t bow deeply, only enough to show respect. The king preferred that from him.

King Syldan handed over the reports and waited while Smike read through them.

“I have a feeling Tizard is behind this,” the King said.

“I was with Prince Mardan when they arrested him, sire,” Smike said. “He had already attacked two Traveller families before we caught him. I heard he escaped.. It wasn't my Foresters who let him escape, sire.”

The King smiled thinly. “No, the border guards are not as well-trained as your men. But Tizard is out there somewhere, and he won’t have become any nicer while hiding.”

The King lowered his voice. “I want you to reinforce the northern towers. Take only the men you trust. Go quietly, no banners, no loud marches. If there is an army in the mountains, I want them to think we are still asleep.”

Smike bowed. “I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Within the hour, the King’s council had gathered. The room was full of nobles and advisors who looked like they had been dragged out of bed.

“Three towers have gone dark,” the King told them. “There reports of bandit activity in the northern passes.”

The Master of Signals paled. “Three towers, sire? That has not happened since—”

“Since Megalan’s uprising,” the King finished. “Yes.”

The Lord Marshal leaned forward. “Do we mobilise the Border Guards?”

“Not yet,” the King said. “We will not panic the people, but we will not sit still. Captain Smike is moving to the North. Our scouts are sweeping the passes. If this is nothing, we lose nothing. But if it is something… we will be ready.”

The council bowed their heads.

The King dismissed them one by one, until only Smike remained.

“Go,” the King said softly. “And keep your eyes open.”

Smike bowed once more and left the chamber, already mentally choosing the men he would take with him.