[Castle Belleverde - Silas’ office]

-- He’s escaping!

In his hand, the northern commander waved a small piece of parchment. 

It was another report swiftly delivered by his large messenger bird. 

Visibly agitated by the news, he stormed forward, leaving his winged messenger perched upon the windowsill where the bird quietly preened itself. 

In handing the parchment over to Sir Rícard, he immediately questioned 

N. Commander: How do I command the men?

With calm and ease, Chief Commander Rícard eyed the words written. He then slowly stated,

C. Commander Rícard: The occupants..Who were they? How many? There’s no mention of such. Only  the carriages.

N. Commander: No. But…it certainly has to be the duke

Sir Rícard, considering the simple report in his hand, his eyes seemingly squinted in thought 

[Riverside positioned. Multiple carriages spotted leaving. Requesting permission to pursue] 

Before him, all looked on expectantly his way. Especially so was the northern commander.

Comm. Jenkins: ..Commander?

The interior was of emerald greens and warm honey brown armchairs and sofas. 

Plants accented corners, lending their natural warmth to the room. Walls with its wide towering windows, one-of-a-kind paintings and spines of many books. 

These observed as they sat in silence. 

On the first floor, in a large fine looking library office, they awaited the duke. 

Some officers stood, others sat. Even so, only a handful of the small military force arriving in Noresta were allowed entry into the eastern lord’s residence.  

On the outskirts, the remaining men waited- alert, their eyes set upon the front gates, weapons ready if need be.

It had been some time since they were received rather nervously by the help. 

That was to be expected. Their arrival was sudden. So with patience they milled around the room in expectation.

But the day’s light now waned. Lamps were being lit, and the castle’s master was yet to present himself to his guests.

In spite of Sir Rícard’s initial concerns, full trust was had towards everyone under his command. 

Yet, something was afoot. 

He knew it. He felt it. As to what it was..

There was a throbbing inside his head. It felt as if someone impatiently knocked upon a door there.

Charlotte: Uhm..Commander?

Returning to the moment, he rapidly blinked and dismissed the tense pain with a quick shake of his head and replied

C. Commander Rícard: We need to identify the occupants. It could have been a delivery of supplies returning into town, but at this hour, it’s most unlikely.. 

N. Commander: …

C. Commander Rícard: ..Also, I’m concerned that it could possibly be a diversion or even a trap

N. Commander: A trap?

Commander Rícard gently nodded and concluded

C. Commander Rícard: Yes. Yet if it is not, it was solely done to draw the men away, to aid in his escape from here. 

Words blurred as again he considered the report, before warning

C. Commander Rícard: Cautiously, Commander.. 

With a stern set jaw, the northern commander nodded, acknowledging the instruction 

C. Commander Rícard: ..Send word to follow and identify the occupants. They must take rest somewhere during their journey. Let them report after such. 

Yet again, he gave a sharp nod and with a sly smile, acknowledged

N. Commander: At once, Commander.

And with that, he marched toward a nearby table with an inkwell and writing material upon it. 

Tense the air drifting in. 

At the windows, Ava received her orders and flew away into the evening sky.  

With that, officers began to speculate. Their voices, though hushed, carried out the open doors and into the hallway where someone then called at said doors. 

With a jovial greeting, he entered

**

**

Henri: M’lord?…

[Earlier that afternoon]

*

[Duke’s Private Chambers]

Henri called again. 

This time in a sharp whisper just loud enough to be heard over gentle music. 

Remaining at the doors, he ensured to first have them shut before he next spoke. 

And in rushing up to Silas; seated with legs crossed in his armchair, he repeated

Henri: M’lord!

Momentarily, Silas drew his eyes away from the newsprint in hand and distractedly replied 

Silas: Mm? What did the doctor say?

Henri: M’lord, the southern messenger- he’s here..and, erm…

Silas: Then, have him wait in the office as usual, Henri.

Henri: Yes, M’lord. He’s there but- erm..

To and fro, back and forth, the servant constantly shifted his stance. Repeatedly glancing toward the closed doors, all while twisting his hands together.

All of this nervous fidgeting at the corner of his eye, distracted his reading. 

And so Silas, folding and putting the newsprint article aside, tapped his foot impatiently upon the rug and asked with evident restraint 

Silas: What is it, Henri?

Henri: Sire…there is also- there is the small delegation from Avlinton. The Duke- 

Stuck in his dry throat, were the remainder of his words which his master concluded

Silas: He’s finally here.

For weeks now, the western military traversed toward his province. And all along the way, his scouts kept close eye on the group’s advancement. 

They were in the midst of war. And as such, military units moving between territories were not unusual. 

In fact, from noblemen to common folk, all were comforted by their presence. Southerners threatened the border and this gave reassurance. 

Defending and holding that line however, began to prove difficult almost to the point of impossible, especially so for the east.

The southerners pushed northward. 

What wasn’t occupied, was burned flat. They freely tore apart villages and violated the women and spilled blood everywhere they ventured. 

Everyone, even the children. All suffered and died. 

And despite His Majesty's finest officers' self sacrificing and valiant efforts, eventually, the savages crossed and invaded both west and east provinces.  

Burnt crops could be replanted. Houses and business’ rebuilt. But the people..

To assist with and discuss these urgent matters, Duke Rícard sent word that he himself would soon arrive with much needed aid.

And now his saviour was finally here. Yet he knew better. 

Everything his master planned seemed to be failing. 

So Henri, growing steadily restless by the lingering silence, couldn’t hold his tongue any longer and hurriedly asked in a hushed tone

Henri: M- M’lord..do you truly believe we’ve been figured-?

Getting ahead of himself, Silas shot him a warning glance before calmly questioning

Silas: Where are they?

Henri: I- in the parlour

After their little standoff, it had been some time since he last met with the messenger. 

All parted ways that evening with their lives, yet it seemed the understanding he had with the south was lost. 

Alliances were fickle like that.

The southern king became wary of him and no further updates of his war efforts were given. 

And so, the once allied southerners who were allowed to freely enter and pass through his territory under secrecy, did much more. 

Admittedly, things had gotten quite..challenging.

Silas: Have our southern friend moved to the small reading room, far from the newly arrived guests.

Henri: Yes, M’lord 

And at once, he made to do just that.  

Silas: And Henri…

Henri: ..!?

Silas: How is Oliver? Is he any better?

In his anxious state, his original task was almost forgot, the servant cowered and then regrettably informed him

Henri: Ah- apologies, M’lord! Young master is still quite poorly- he’s very much unwell.. 

Silas: …

Henri: ..M’lady is very concerned 

With graceful ease, he ordered as he stood.

Silas: See to the southerner first then attend to the Duke.

Henri: Yes, Sire

Silas: Also, Henri…

Henri: …? Y- yes, Sire?

Silas: ..have a few of your personal belongings packed and find me at the service entrance when you’ve done so.