THE FLAP FLUNG forward as an armored figure entered the canvas, installed as the central structure upon the multitude of tents and earthworks, that for the last few weeks served as the humble lodgings for the venerable Duke of Regalia, yet the man himself was nowhere inside the temporary residence to be found. In his stead, the man that greeted the visitor was a stout figure of a man in his late forties, garbed in a tunic and trousers common at the officers of the Regalian military, who was nursing a goblet of wine upon the soldier's arrival. Lord General Balmeister, high commander of the Regalian Standing Army, regarded the knight before him, bearing a seemingly irascible demeanor upon the attempt on his leisure time.
"Has the Duke returned?" Balmeister inquired in an impassive tone, lifting the goblet towards his mouth.
"Not yet, milord," the soldier answered. "But I came to report the arrival of a messenger from Regalia. He said he bears news of grave importance."
"I wonder, what could it be? Let him come, I will see to him."
Upon the signal of the knight, the guard stationed at the front motioned the visitor forward. The sheet that covered the entrance of the tent was once again flung open, emerging from the outside was the said messenger, weary and pale faced who reeked of sweat from days of travel. He offered a bow with a kneel, his right shin touching the ground, and a soldier's salute to boot. "Hail, Lord General Balmeister. I bid you salutations."
"Skip the pleasantries, I have not the time all day," Balmeister stated in an unimpressed voice, happy to skip the tedious, formal greetings from those of lower station.
"I deliver a letter from the commander of the City Watch."
"What is the letter about?"
"It's the city, milord. Regalia is under attack!"
The messenger pulled out a sealed letter from his pouch, bearing a sigil the general recognized belonging indeed from the City Watch. Without moments to spare, Balmeister reached for the man's extended arm to retrieve the envelope, hastily tearing the waxed seal in order to extract the letter, revealing a parchment with the handwriting he acknowledged quite well as Kursoe's. It read:
Your Grace, Duke Gaverone Walruse of Regalia,
It is of utmost severity that I wrote to you, my liege. If you may forgive my insolence, I hope you would not take offense upon my lack of etiquette for I will be straightforward and make this message short, as demanded by my current predicament. I shall assume that several days has already passed when this letter should arrived at Your Grace's camp at Kurlon. The intention behind this letter is to inform you that Regalia is currently under siege by a sizeable host, estimated to be about ten thousand strong. One of Lord Velmund's retainers, a knight by the name of Renkou Shumenham, perceived the attack to be concocted by Marquis Quillton of Ruggleford, vassal of yours which domain lies north of the Duchy. I assure you that the insights of Sir Renkou can be trusted, and if I have not seen the banners bearing the twin sword crest, I would have not scribed this letter myself otherwise. I believe that Marquis Quillton has long denounced his allegiance to you, and this act of rebellion shall be suppressed immediately.
I also regret to be the deliverer of the sour news, Your Grace, that a group of cutthroats have managed to infiltrate the castle to abduct your son, Lord Varus. Likely this is one of the ploys of the Marquis to further undermine your rule. We expect your victory over the barbarians and your immediate return to the city. We shall persevere and await for you to put the Marquis at the end of your sword, and stoke the flames of his treacherous rebellion.
Commander of the City Watch of Regalia,
Sir Kursoe Baldwin
After reading the contents of the epistle, the messenger could not help but be puzzled upon the look the general wore. He might have noticed the change in a mere blink of an eye, but was certain that the bored expression he saw had turned into elation, oddly for a man receiving a news of an attack on his lord's holdings. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me, the messenger thought.
"I would deliver the message to the Duke myself once he has returned from the hunt," the general finally said, offering a seemingly pretentious smile. By 'hunt' he meant not the casual chase-and-trail of a game nobles were fond of as a sport, rather it was a skirmish between a small contingent of the Duke's army and the foreign invaders, with the former employing ambushes and hit-and-run tactics to slow down his enemy's advance. "You have done a great job delivering this message. You may rest now at the camp, or might you be anywhere else to be at this point?"
"I am to alert the Count of Rondelle about the Marquis's rebellion once I accomplished the task given to me, or otherwise the Duke himself subject me to another mission. I am to also confirm that the other messengers reach their destination or deliver the news myself if they happen to fail as a contingency plan to important people like Lord Velmund who is fighting in the southeastern border near the River Dalewood."
"How have you managed to pass through the lands of the Marquis as you made your way here without detection? I presume that Marquis Quillton would have been smart enough as to place blockades to main roads of his Marquisate to avoid alarming the Duke, like you yourself did."
"Milord, I simply did not. I was instructed by Sir Night Owl to use patrol routes outside the Kingdom's borders, traveling through Norsmundi lands."
"I know those routes you speak off. Though that one is extremely dangerous and were only used by veterans and knights who were competent enough not to be caught."
"Yes, but I am part of the elite Scout Corps of the Twelfth Division and specifically trained for these sort of missions."
"Then, why are you not with the army within this moment? What squadron are you in?"
"I am part of the fifth squadron of the third regiment, and a sergeant-at-arms."
"Your squadron were left at Regalia? Why have I not known this?"
"Sir Night Owl has been specific of discretion so I am not allowed to divulge any of the details. Forgive me, milord."
"I am Lord General of the Standing Army, and you would dare speak discretion at my presence?! Have you no knowledge of my authority?"
"I was told not to, by Lord Velmund through the briefing of Sir Night Owl."
Anger flushed visibly at Balmeister's visage, his lip curled up, brows frowned and eyes blazing. The lack of recognition for his authority sparked fury and strained his nerve, making his judgement call for an immediate flogging for the man's insolence. Yet, doing so at the eyes of many in the camp could take its toll upon the army's morale. Not to mention, if he was to act against the interest of a noble, the Duke's third son no less, amidst the eyes of spectators, he doubted that his liege would even recognize such punishment necessary.
"Fine, suit yourself. You are free to go, be gone to depart for Rondelle to inform Count Roswalt."
The messenger had swiftly withdrawn his presence from the tent after another bow. Upon the dismissal of the messenger, Balmeister looked at the knight who remained standing by the entrance. Sitting upon a chair on one side of the elongated table centering the room, he raised his goblet and drank wine until it was empty, shutting his eyes for several seconds. He then stared at his knight once more, trying to address him. "You know what to do, I want it done with 'discretion,' understood?"
"Yes, my lord," the knight nodded. "It shall be done."
Left alone by his own devices, Balmeister pondered his thoughts at the recent episodes following their departure from Regalia. First, there was the thing about an entire squadron, or possibly more, being left out at the Duchy without his awareness, much less a permission. Second, the sergeant-at-arms of the said squadron had managed to pass through the rebel's detection altogether, making it all the way to the camp to deliver the letter of an attack to the Duke. And the epitome of his worries was the involvement of a knight in service of the Duke's son, as well the knight's lord himself.
"'Night Owl' must have been an alias of the same knight mentioned on Kursoe's letter," he muttered to himself. "Yes, he must have been one of the Raven Knights. But how did he and his lord manage to get involved in this matter? The last time I checked, Lord Velmund was off to a border town. He must have had a good foresight seeing how he seemingly caught a wind of the Marquis's plot. Perhaps the squadron and a Raven Knight remaining at a city were mere coincidence, though it is almost certainly unlikely. Regardless, I was lucky the Duke was not here to receive the message himself…"