The Unknown Enemy.Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

 

Disappearing Watchmen.

 

Captain Smike left the palace before dawn. The frost still clung to the cobbles and the streetlamps flickered in the early wind. He travelled with only six Foresters, men he trusted to move like shadows. They wore plain cloaks over their uniforms. No banners, no bright colours. Just the steady, silent pace of men who knew the mountains better than anyone.

Smike rode at the front. The King’s words echoed in his mind: Let whoever is moving in the mountains believe we sleep. But Smike knew the mountains weren't sleeping.

They reached the first village two days later. Even before they entered the square, Smike felt the tension. Shutters twitched as they passed. Conversations died. Even the dogs stayed close to their owners’ doors.

The village leader met them with a stiff bow. “Captain. We… weren’t expecting anyone so soon.”

“You sent a message. Messages need answers,” Smike replied. “Tell me what happened.”

“The watchman vanished, sir. Four nights ago. We heard a cry from the tower, just one. By the time we reached the door, he was gone.”

“No signs of a struggle. No blood. No tracks. Just… gone.”

Smike looked at his men. “Show me.”

The tower door had been barred from the outside to keep people out. Smike lifted the heavy wooden beam and stepped into the cold, empty tower. Everything looked normal. The only thing out of place was the ladder to the upper floor, it was knocked sideways, as if someone had fallen or been dragged.

Smike climbed up, his senses sharp. The fire-pot was cold. The signalling shutters were half-open.

“It looks as if the guard just walked out,” one of the Foresters said. “But the only way up here is the ladder. If an enemy climbed up, the guard could have just knocked them down before they reached the top.”

Smike nodded. “These watchmen are well-trained. He wouldn't just leave his post. He must have gone down the ladder for a reason. Perhaps he had a visitor.”

“He would only go down if he knew the person,” the Forester added.

Smike didn't answer. He looked down the dark ladder shaft. Nothing moved. He went back down to the base. The door had been barred from the outside. No footprints in the frost. No sign of a fight. His soldier's instinct told him something was very wrong.

The next village was even worse. People were trying to act normal, but their eyes kept flicking toward the mountains. No smoke rose from the tower. No guard stood at the top.

“Where are your watchmen?” Smike asked the leader.

“Gone, Captain. Both of them.”

Smike’s face hardened. “Tell me everything.”

“The night watchman went on duty as usual,” the leader explained. “Later that night, the day watchman went up to check on him. His wife heard him climb the ladder. In the morning, the tower was empty. Both men were gone. No blood. No struggle.”

A farmer stepped forward. “We heard movement in the night. Boots on stone. Then nothing.”

“And my dog barked at the sheep pens,” another villager added. “The next morning, we found a wooden post snapped sideways, clean through, like someone hit it with a heavy iron bar.”

The leader reached into his coat and pulled out a scrap of dark cloth. It was stiff with mud and marked with a jagged smear of crimson and black.

Smike took it carefully. “Where did you find this?”

“Caught on a thorn bush near the sheep,” the leader said. “Looked like it had been torn out when someone walked too close to the thorns.”

“Pity you did not leave it where it was,” said Smike. “You can tell a lot from the way a piece of cloth hangs on a bush.”

The man looked downcast. “Sorry, but I thought someone would want to see it.”

Smike clapped him on the shoulder. “No matter, you did right in bringing it to me.” He tucked the cloth into his coat. “Good. I’m leaving two of my men here. No one goes up the tower alone, and no one goes near it after dark.”

The village at Tower Thirty-Seven felt different. It was steadier. Someone had kept the people from panicking.

Nemon stood at the base of the tower, his back straight even though he looked exhausted.

Nemon saluted. “Good to see you, sir.”

Smike returned the salute. He could tell Nemon was an old soldier. “Report.”

“I saw a green light in the mountains, then a lot of men. I lit the beacon like I was supposed to. There was no answer from the other towers, so I warned the village,” Nemon said.

“You did well,” Smike said. He saw Nemon’s shoulders relax just a little.

Inside, Nemon’s tower was perfect. The fire burned bright, and the stone floor was scrubbed clean. Raxon was stood inside the doorway. He saluted.

“You’ve kept it in good order,” Smike noted.

“Didn’t want to give the enemy any excuse to think we panicked,” Nemon replied.

Smike looked out the window at the dark mountains. Something out there wanted these towers dark. He turned back to Nemon and Raxon.

“You two stay on duty. I’ll leave two of my men to help you. Never be alone. Keep the beacon lit at dusk and dawn. If you see that green light again, sound the horn immediately.”

Smike stepped outside to his team. “You two stay here. I am going into the mountains to see what is happening.”

“On your own, sir?” Sergeant Block protested.

“Why, Sergeant, I didn’t know you cared,” Smike grinned.

Sergeant Block huffed. “I just don’t want to be the one who has to tell the King we let you wander off into the mountains by yourself.”

“I’ll be careful,” Smike said. “One man is harder to spot than three. I'll see more if I'm alone.”

Sergeant Block saluted. “Yes, sir. Good luck.”