anwhile.
Tybalt Region.
Lord Tybalt sat in his study, the latest intelligence report spread across his desk.
"You’re certain they’ve begun moving troops?"he asked, voice low.
"Yes, my lord." His captain stood at attention, expression grim. "Our scouts and intelligence units confirm it. Both Turka and Garka are shifting large numbers of soldiers toward the bases near our borders. Turka to the north, Garka to the east."
Tybalt looked at the map again, his expression grim.
"Are you sure they’re preparing for an actual operation, and not just conducting military drills?"
"Drills are typically held well within one’s own territory, my lord. Stationing forces this close to a neighbor’s border... it suggests more than training. I believe they are positioning for an incursion."
Tybalt turned to his captain. "We should report this to His Majesty Kimar. He can order them to stand down."
"My lord," his butler interjected with a slight bow. "Pardon my bluntness, but as you well know, both lords are favored at court. Even if we send a formal protest, there is no guarantee the king will intervene. He may simply... overlook it."
Tybalt gritted his teeth. "So Turka and Garka are moving against because they know we’re stretched thin, our troops under-equipped, our coffers low, our borders vulnerable."
"What should we do, my lord?" the captain asked.
Tybalt stood and approached the map. "How many troops do we have?"
"Approximately eight thousand, my lord. Five hundred are stationed at each border outpost, with another three hundred held in reserve here at the estate."
Tybalt’s jaw tightened as he studied the report again. "And this report says Turka is mobilizing more than fifteen thousand? Garka around twenty?"
"Those are preliminary estimates, my lord. The full numbers are still unclear."
"Which ans the real count could be higher." Tybalt exhaled heavily. "Turka’s standing army exceeds fifty thousand. Garka’s is near sixty. Their equipnt is superior, their regions are richer in resources and tax revenue. They can afford to field more, and better ard, troops."
Tybalt fell silent, his gaze drifting to the Armand wedding invitation that had arrived a week ago.
He turned back to the map, his expression grim.
"Even if we split our forces between both borders, we’re still outnumbered five to one. We might hold them off for a ti, fortify the passes, set up choke points. But with our treasury running low, we can’t afford to sustain a prolonged war. We’ll run low on arrows, armor repairs, fresh horses... and morale, it all costs coin we don’t have. Sooner or later, they’ll break through." He paused, voice lowering. "Perhaps I should..."
"My lord," the captain cut in carefully, "You cannot simply let these two take Tybalt land. Our people won’t stand for it. Many have family here, farms, hos."
Tybalt’s tone was weary. "We can’t feed eight thousand soldiers on empty granaries. We can’t pay for reinforcents or supply lines. Once our food stores run out and our weapons break, what’s left? A slow retreat, then collapse. We can’t outlast them in a siege, and we can’t et them in open field with those numbers. What other choice do we have?"
"My lord!" the butler’s voice rose slightly. "If we surrender, our people will suffer under those greedy lords. And worst of all... they may end your family line!"
The captain stepped forward. "We cannot allow that, my lord. Even against impossible odds, we must defend our land and our people. To fight is to honor them."
Lord Tybalt exhaled slowly. "What choice is left? For a month now, they’ve barred our rchants, taxed our caravans into the ground, refused our goods. They let our grain spoil and our markets starve." He looked between them, his voice low. "They planned this. They’ve been strangling us until we have nothing left to fight with. Surrender might at least..."
Before he could finish, the main door swung open.
His wife entered, her posture graceful but her eyes sharp. "We still have a choice, dear husband. I will not stand by while my father’s lands are handed to those vultures."
"Kayra... this isn’t the ti for..." Tybalt tried to continue.
"No! I will not let you surrender again," she cut him off, her voice firm. "You already gave Garka that stretch of land, the main road to Arjam, because he threatened you over our rchants trading with Armand. Just for the sake of peace, you handed it over."
She stepped closer, eyes unwavering. "Even if it was a small patch, it was our people’s lifeline to Arjam and beyond."
Tybalt fell silent.
"And now? They’re trying to force us into a fight we didn’t start!"
"But, honey..." Tybalt tried to persuade her.
"No more ’buts’! We still have a choice. Stop clinging to old grievances. You’ve been avoiding any tie to Armand because of pride and past slights, but that hasn’t protected us. It’s only made us weaker."
"Kayra..."
"Send a ssenger to Armand. Or to Arjam. Ask for their help. If Garius truly held a grudge, he wouldn’t have sent you this invitation, and from what I hear, you and Rolland were the only ones outside his alliance to receive one."
"But... I didn’t support his decision during Princess Kliatana’s situation before..."
"That’s the past! And look at her now! She’s beco the Ruler of Arjam under Armand, and she’s about to marry his son. The past isn’t holding them back. Why should it hold you?"
Kayra looked at her silent husband, then turned to the butler.
"Cliff."
"Yes, my lady?" The butler bowed politely.
"How long would it take our fastest rider to reach Arjam using the main roads?"
"Around three days if we use the main road. But with tensions escalating toward war, we’d have to take the forest path. The problem is monsters, possibly bandits... and worst of all, Garka’s army."
"Is there any ship that could cross to Armand’s port from here?"
"Pardon , my lady. We don’t have any passenger ships. Most are fishing vessels, and only one is large enough, but it’s old, hardly fit for a long voyage."
"How long to the nearest Arjam port? I heard they’ve finished their new harbor. Surely soone has a boat that can make the crossing."
"If the winds are favorable and the seas calm... perhaps two days."
"Then ready that boat. Tell the owner Lady Kayra will charter it and reward him handsoly if he gets there safely."
"But Kayra..." Tybalt started.
"Enough!" she cut him off sharply. "If you refuse to ask Armand for help because of your pride, then I will go. I’ll beg on my knees if I must, for our people, for our ho."
( End Of Chapter )
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