Damon sat down in his leather chair. He rested his hands on the desk. He rembered a small, crucial detail from his earlier conversation at the palace courtyard.
Isabel Ryde had been there. She had congratulated him on winning his father’s land back from General Howe. Her father, Lord Ryde, had been standing nearby. Damon rembered how the Earl looked at his daughter when she congratulated him.
"Kade," Damon spoke. His voice was quiet and very serious.
"Yes, General?"
"I want you to look into the Ryde’s relationship with my father’s land," Damon commanded.
Kade blinked in surprise. He tilted his head slightly. "Your father’s land, My Lord?"
"Yes," Damon replied, his eyes narrowing. "The Eastern Valley. The one I just got back from General Howe in the death match."
Damon leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk.
"Isabel Ryde was at the palace today," Damon explained. "She was far too eager to congratulate on winning that land. And her father, Lord Ryde, has always been very suspicious to . I want you to find out if the Ryde family had any secret hand in helping Howe take that valley from . And most importantly, find out what happened in the past between my father and that land. There must be a reason why my father fought so hard to keep it."
Kade’s face turned serious. He understood the gravity of the command. If a noble family like the Rydes was secretly helping a rival General steal land from the Benson estate, it was a major betrayal.
Kade bowed his head deeply. "As you wish, my lord. I will set my best spies to work imdiately. We will uncover their history."
Kade looked toward the tent entrance.
Outside, the sky was growing very dark, and the first stars were shining brightly. The soldiers were starting to light the campfires.
"Will you be staying in the camp tonight, My Lord?" Kade asked politely. "The wind is getting cold, and you have a very early eting with the unit commanders tomorrow."
Damon stood up, walked over to the wooden stand and picked up his military coat. He pulled it over his broad shoulders, buttoning it quickly.
"No," Damon replied. His voice was calm, but he spoke without hesitation. "I am going ho to et my wife... I an, the lady."
He quickly corrected himself, his face turning a very light shade of pink in the dim light. He did not want Kade to think he was rushing ho because he missed her, even though that was the absolute, embarrassing truth. He just wanted to see her face. He wanted to hear her thoughts.
Kade nodded his head. A very small, secret smile touched the corner of his lips, but he kept his head bowed so the General would not see his amusent. He was glad to see the General finally caring for his wife, even if Damon was too proud to admit it.
"Okay, My Lord," Kade said respectfully. "I will get your horse ready imdiately."
Kade turned around and walked out of the tent to prepare the animal.
anwhile, across the vast, cold sea, in another kingdom, the night was dark and stormy. Heavy waves crashed violently against the tall, black stone cliffs of the shore.
Inside a dimly lit castle, the air was freezing cold. The walls were made of rough, dark stones, and a large fireplace burned with a pale green fire that did not provide much warmth.
Sitting on a massive carved wooden armchair at the end of the bedroom was the ruler of the enemy kingdom. He wore a dark purple velvet robe trimd with black fur. He held a golden cup filled with dark red wine.
A guard, wearing black iron armor, rushed into the quiet throne room. He walked quickly across the stone floor, his tal boots making loud, echoing sounds.
The guard reached the foot of the throne. He went down on one knee, bowing his head in absolute submission.
"Your Majesty," the guard spoke. His voice was shaking slightly with fear. "I bring urgent news from the Kingdom of Daril."
The monarch took a slow sip of his red wine. He did not look at the guard. He kept his cold eyes fixed on the fire.
"Speak," the monarch ordered. His voice was deep, raspy, and carried a chilling authority.
The guard swallowed hard, keeping his head bowed low.
"One of our spies is dead, Your Majesty," the guard reported. "He was caught by a royal patrol near the northern ridge of Daril. He was captured alive, but we were inford that he died in the deep cells under the palace."
The monarch did not move. He kept his glass steady. "And the weapon? The musket?"
"The guards captured the weapon, Your Majesty," the guard explained nervously. "The palace already knows about the musket. The King of Daril, King Leonel, personally inspected the iron pipe. I was inford by our hidden sources that the King was highly terrified. He has already started working on a complete lockdown of the Kingdom of Daril. They are doubling the guards at every gate, checking every wagon, and requiring royal passes for everyone."
The monarch’s face turned incredibly dark. His eyes flashed with fury.
He moved his right hand with sudden, explosive speed.
BANG!
The monarch angrily hit the flat of his hand against the armrest of his chair. The force of the blow was so imnse that the old wood actually cracked slightly. The wine in his golden cup splashed over the edge, dripping onto his purple robe like fresh blood.
The kneeling guard flinched violently, pressing his face closer to the cold stone floor, terrified of the monarch’s rage.
"Idiots!" the monarch growled. His voice was like a hissing snake. "How could they let themselves get caught so easily? The musket was our ultimate weapon of surprise! We spent years developing that black powder and forging those iron pipes! It was supposed to destroy Daril’s cavalry before they even knew we were coming!"
He stood up from his chair. His long purple robe swished angrily against the stone floor. He began to pace back and forth in front of the fire, his hands clenched into tight fists.
"If King Leonel locks down the borders," the monarch thought to himself, his mind filled with dark plans. "Our smuggling routes will be completely ruined. We cannot send the weapons across the sea if the guards are checking every single rchant cart. This will delay our invasion by months, maybe even years."
He stopped pacing. He turned his sharp, angry gaze back to the kneeling guard.
"What about the other spies?" the monarch demanded fiercely. "What about the supply of black powder we have already hidden inside Daril’s borders?"
"They are currently staying hidden, Your Majesty," the guard replied quickly, his voice shaking. "They have not been caught. But they cannot move the weapons without being searched at the checkpoints. And...."
"And what?" The king shouted.
The guard shook in fear, "We still haven’t found another source and the gunpowder supply is not enough."
The monarch clenched his teeth. He looked at the fire, his mind calculating. He needed a new way. He needed a loophole in all of this.
"How long will it take to find another source?" the monarch asked, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper. "And how long to find another path into the kingdom? We must find a way to smuggle the muskets inside Daril before their guards can prepare a proper defense."
"I... I do not know, Your Majesty," the guard stamred. "The borders are heavily guarded now. It will take ti to bribe the new officers."
The monarch glared at the guard. "Then find that ti," he commanded coldly. "I do not care how much gold it takes. Bribe the guards, find the hidden mountain paths, or use the sea routes. But we must deliver those weapons. Daril must fall."
The King went back to his seat. He stared at the fire. "Find a way to make Howe see ."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the guard saluted quickly, relieved to be dismissed. He stood up and hurried out of the room.
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