The King's Guard

Chapter 26

The squad was already halfway through the outer valley before anyone spoke.

Boots sank into damp soil, the air thick with a mild drizzle that clung to their skins rather than fell. The ridge to the north blocked the morning light, keeping the path in shadow.

Kyna, who had been transferred from her squad to Kael’s for this particular mission, broke the silence first.

“You know this isn’t exactly rebel territory, right?”

Kael glanced at her. “The orders say neutral village. Our job’s to intercept before the courier leaves.”

“Orders can leave things out,” she said.

Reyna, walking ahead, didn’t turn. “We’ll deal with whatever’s there. Same as always.”

Jared gave a short laugh. “Same as always. Meaning you make the call, and we do the work.”

“No,” Reyna said flatly, “meaning you follow the plan, and no one ends up carried back.”

They rounded the bend where the path widened into a cart track.

Kael kept his voice low. “What’s bothering you, Kyna?”

She adjusted the strap across her chest. “Just a feeling. My mother used to trade through this region. Stormhaven patrols kept it clear of rebel cells. Now suddenly there’s a rebel courier here?”

Jared smirked. “Maybe your mother’s network isn’t as sharp as she thinks.”

Kyna’s eyes narrowed. “Her network doesn’t make mistakes. Which means either the rebels are lying low in plain sight… or someone wants us to think they are.”

“Or,” Jared said, “you’re chasing shadows because you can’t stand the thought of your family missing something.”

Kael shot him a warning look. “Ease up, Jared. This is not the time and here’s not the place for your silly tantrums.”

Jared shrugged. “I’m just saying… sometimes a rebel courier is just a rebel courier.”

“Not when Stormhaven markings show up in a neutral village,” Kyna murmured.

That made Reyna glance back over her shoulder for the first time. “Markings?”

Kyna nodded. “Old trade sigils. My mother used them when she wanted goods moved quietly. If I’m right, someone from her side’s involved here.”

“Then this just became more complicated,” Reyna said.

“Complicated,” Jared muttered, “is one word for it. Messy is another.”

Kael’s eyes flicked toward the track ahead. “Messy or not, we still have to find the courier.”

Reyna’s tone sharpened. “And we will. But if Kyna’s right, we may be walking into a game none of us were invited to play.”

The drizzle thickened slightly, beading on their cloaks. No one spoke for a few moments, each watching the grey distance where the track vanished between the hills.

“Still think it’s just a routine intercept?” Kyna asked quietly.

Jared didn’t answer.

“Enough,” Reyna cut in. “Eyes forward. Kael… take point for the next turn.”

They reached the village just after midday. It was small: maybe thirty structures, most of them stone and timber, with low slate roofs. The streets were narrow and quiet, the kind of quiet that didn’t mean peace.

Two children paused in their game to watch them pass. An old woman swept the edge of her doorway, never lifting her head.

Kael scanned each window. “No signs of guards. No sign of the courier either.”

“Or they’re good at hiding,” Kyna said, her gaze tracking the rooftops. “Places like this… everyone sees, no one talks.”

Reyna motioned them toward the well at the centre of the square. “We hold here. Kyna, with me. Jared, check the southern lane. Kael—north.”

Jared tilted his head. “You’re splitting us? In a place like this?”

“It’s not the place that worries me,” Kyna muttered. “It’s the way everyone’s pretending not to notice us.”

Reyna’s voice was firm. “You want the courier slipping past while we stand in a circle?”

Jared raised an eyebrow. “I also don’t want to get knifed in some back alley while you two ‘hold here.’”

Kael stepped closer. “Stick to the main lanes, keep your eyes open. No heroics.”

Jared smirked. “When have I ever…”

“Don’t finish that,” Kyna cut in. “We all remember the mill in Arvenholt.”

“That was different,” Jared said quickly.

“Different how?” Kael asked.

“Because I survived.” Jared shot back, before giving a shrug and walking off.

Kael’s route took him past the small trading stalls on the northern edge. Most were closed. A single stall selling dried herbs remained open, the smell of sage and bitterroot drifting through the damp air.

The shopkeeper, a thin man with long fingers, eyed him warily. “You’re not from here.”

Kael didn’t slow. “Looking for a traveller. Passed through in the last hour.”

“Many travellers pass through.”

“This one would be carrying sealed packets. Riding alone.”

The man gave a slow shrug. “Could be anyone. Could be no one.”

Kael stopped in front of the stall. “You’ve seen him.”

“I’ve seen plenty.”

“This one isn’t plenty,” Kael said, lowering his voice. “Tall, rides like he’s done it all his life. Doesn’t speak unless spoken to. You’d remember him.”

The shopkeeper’s jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t know.”

Kael took another step closer, close enough for the scent of herbs to mingle with the damp leather of his gloves. “Wouldn’t know, or don’t want to say?”

The man’s gaze flicked toward the woods beyond the stall: quick, and almost nervous. “I wouldn’t know.” he repeated, the words stiffer this time.

Kael lingered a moment longer, then turned away.

By the time Kael returned to the square, Kyna was crouched near the well, tracing something on the stone with her finger.

“What is it?” he asked.

She moved aside just enough for him to see.

Scratched into the stone faintly was a small spiral flanked by two angled lines.

Kael frowned. “That’s not rebel.”

Kyna’s voice was quiet. “No. It’s Stormhaven. And not just any unit—my mother’s traders use this to mark safe routes.”

Reyna looked over. “Are you certain?”

“Completely.”

Jared returned from the south lane, brushing dirt from his gloves. “Found a fresh set of tracks: light horse, headed west. Might be our courier.”

Reyna’s eyes shifted to Kyna. “You ready to move?”

Kyna stood. “Let’s finish this.”

They followed the tracks out of the village and into the narrow pass beyond. The rain had eased, leaving the path slick but manageable.

Jared kept his pace just ahead of Kael. “So if these markings mean what she says, then what? Orders are still orders.”

Kael replied without looking at him. “It means the story we were told isn’t the whole one.”

“And you care because?”

Kael kept walking. “Because lies have a habit of showing up again when you least want them.”

Jared snorted. “Spoken like someone who keeps score.”

“Better than pretending the board’s empty,” Kael said.

Behind them, Kyna called quietly, “Less talking, more moving, guys—the tracks are getting harder to read.”

They spotted the courier at the far end of the pass. It was a lean man in dark leathers, the satchel at his side bound tight.

Reyna’s voice was low. “On my mark—Jared, left flank. Kael, right. Kyna, cut off the rear.”

Jared grinned faintly. “Finally, something straightforward.”

The man glanced back just as they moved. He kicked his horse forward, but the pass narrowed too much for speed. Jared reached him first, grabbing at the reins, while Kael closed from the other side.

The courier tried to draw a blade. “Bad idea,” Kael warned.

Kyna was already behind him, boot to his stirrup, pulling him down into the mud.

The fight was brief. Reyna pulled the satchel free, checking the seal. “Still intact.”

The courier groaned, spitting dirt. “Hope you like what you find.”

Kael crouched. “Who sent you?”

The man laughed, low and tired. “Doesn’t matter. You already have it.”

Reyna started to reply, but then stopped.

A sound echoed from the ridge above: the metallic clatter of weapons, boots scraping stone.

Jared’s hand went to his hilt. “We’re not alone.”

Reyna’s gaze snapped to Kael. “Move. Now!”

The courier shifted suddenly, his hand flashing toward his belt…