Matthew Wild
The moon was high in the sky, casting a pale light over the landscape as Arney and I made our way back to Clive. The fortress loomed behind us, a dark reminder of the danger we'd just escaped. We moved swiftly through the dense forest, the only sounds being the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. The adrenaline from our close call hadn't worn off, but now it was laced with urgencyâwhat we had discovered needed to be shared, and quickly.
I broke the silence first. "You think Lord Gregory's really going to pull it off? Betray Kinsley like that?"
"Kinsley are fuckers," Arney muttered, kicking a loose stone as we walked. "Hate them for putting us, the people, in this situation. But I'd rather have them than the Valorians in power."
I glanced at him, my thoughts still racing. "If he's already in Valoria's inner circle, he might be closer than we think. It's possible he's been planning this for a long time. That letter... it's proof enough that something big is about to go down."
Arney's face was tense, but he nodded. "We've got to get this to Clive. He'll know what to do next."
We pushed forward, our pace quickening as the forest gave way to the outskirts of town. The familiar sights and sounds of the bustling streets greeted us, but we moved with purpose, keeping to the shadows. The tension that had gripped my chest began to ease as we neared our destinationâthe basement of an old tavern nestled in a quieter part of town.
The tavern above was unremarkable, a place where locals gathered to drink away their worries, unaware of the secret operations taking place beneath their feet. Arney led the way, weaving through the narrow alleys until we reached the back entrance. He gave a quick nod to the bartenderâa wiry old man who never asked questionsâas we slipped inside unnoticed.
We descended the creaky wooden stairs to the basement, the air growing cooler and mustier with each step. The dimly lit space was filled with crates, maps, and a few scattered weapons, but it was the people down here who made it what it was. Clive's crew. Our crew.
As we entered, we were greeted by Thorne, a burly figure with a scar running down the side of his face. He was one of Clive's most trusted men, and despite his intimidating appearance, he gave us a nod of recognition.
"Back already?" Thorne grunted, his deep voice rumbling through the room.
Arney smirked, the tension from the mission starting to fade. "Yeah, mission accomplished. Where's Clive?"
Thorne jerked his head toward a door at the far end of the room. "He's waiting for you. Looks like he's got something else cooking, too."
I exchanged a glance with Arney, then nodded. We'd barely made it back, and already there was more to do. Typical Clive. We made our way to the door, the familiar creaks and groans of the old floorboards echoing in the otherwise quiet basement.
Inside, Clive sat at a table cluttered with maps and documents, a half-empty bottle of whiskey by his side. He looked up as we entered, his sharp eyes immediately assessing our state.
"Well?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.
Arney reached into his tunic, pulling out the letter and the map we'd taken from the vault. "We've got something big, Clive. But it's more complicated than we thought."
Clive slammed the letter down on the table, his eyes blazing with anger. "That wretched excuse for a king thinks he can just sell us out, like cattle to the highest bidder. What kind of leader betrays his own people like that? A wimp. That's what he isâa coward hiding behind his throne while the rest of us pay the price."
Arney leaned forward, his expression serious. "It's not just the nobles who'll suffer if this deal goes through. The common folk, the ones who've already lost so much to this warâthey're the ones who'll be left in the cold. Lord Gregory's betrayal only makes it worse. He was supposed to be on the Kingdom's side, but now it looks like he's playing both ends against the middle."
I nodded, feeling the weight of our discovery settle in. "If Gregory is working with the Valorians, then he's feeding them everything they need to crush Kinsley from the inside out. It's not just the war that's the problem anymore. It's the rot in the heart of our own leadership. And that puts all of usâthe peopleâin even more danger."
Clive leaned back in his chair, the worn wood creaking under his weight. His eyes narrowed, and he began to absentmindedly spin the small, sharp knife between his fingers. The blade glinted in the dim light of the basement, catching the occasional flicker from the lanterns hanging overhead. His expression was unreadable, a mask of deep thought as he stared down at the letter on the table, the blade moving with a deliberate, almost hypnotic rhythm.
With a sudden, decisive motion, Clive stabbed the knife into the letter, pinning it to the table. The sound of the blade slicing through paper and wood echoed through the basement, breaking the tense silence.
"You've got shit with the Kingdom, right, Winston?" Clive's voice was low, carrying a weight that made my stomach twist.
I blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but there was no hiding the unease that crept in.
Clive didn't move, his hand still gripping the knife embedded in the letter. His eyes flicked up to meet mine, cold and probing. "You've pissed them off, didn't you?"
A nervous knot tightened in my chest. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the pressure of his gaze. "Erm... Kind of," I admitted, the words tumbling out clumsily. "Why do you ask?"
Clive's expression remained unchanged, but the intensity of his stare made it clear that this was no idle inquiry. The knife in his hand twisted slightly, the blade tearing the letter further as he awaited my explanation.
"Kind of?" he repeated, a slight edge to his voice. "You don't just kind of piss off the Kingdom, Winston. You either do or you don't."
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat, stuck somewhere between fear and uncertainty. My mind raced, searching for an explanation that might appease him, but all I could think of was the cold metal of the blade and the deadly seriousness in Clive's eyes. I didn't know what to say, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing moment.
"What did you do, Winston?" Clive asked, his voice cutting through the tension like the knife he wielded.
"Nothing," I blurted out, desperation creeping into my tone. The lie felt flimsy, but it was the only defense I had.
"You said he could stay if he doesn't bring trouble," Arney chimed in from the shadows, his voice a mix of concern and irritation. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the exchange unfold with a wary expression.
Clive's jaw tightened, his patience clearly wearing thin. "He's trouble right now, Arney. I've got people looking for him, knocking on my door and everything. I can't have fucking royal arses sticking their noses in my business." The frustration in his voice was palpable, echoing off the cold, damp walls of the basement.
The flickering lantern light cast ominous shadows on Clive's face, emphasising the furrow of his brow and the clench of his fists.
Panic surged within me, making my heart race. I was acutely aware of the irony of my predicament: the Kingdom had been searching for me for five long years. I couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't moved on. Given the current turmoil with Valoria, surely they had more pressing matters to deal with than a single fugitive.
I shifted uneasily in my seat, my thoughts racing as I tried to piece together why they would still be after me after all this time. The uncertainty gnawed at my insides. "How do you know it's me they are looking for?" I asked, my voice edged with anxiety.
Arney shrugged, his expression oddly reassuring despite the gravity of the situation. "It's fine. They won't even find you. Your name is Winston now," he said, attempting to lighten the mood.
"But your face is the same," Clive added, his tone flat, as if stating the obvious. He leaned forward, the knife still resting on the table, its blade reflecting the dim light like a silent threat.
I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. "So, what am I supposed to do? Walk around with a mask on? Change my appearance?" The absurdity of the situation struck me, but the reality was far more dangerous than any joke.
Arney raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You could try dyeing your hair or something. Change it up a bit. Besides, people forget faces. Especially in times of war; they're too busy worrying about the battlefront to bother with someone who's been hiding for years."
Clive shot him a warning glance, his demeanor unyielding. "This isn't a game, Arney. They're not just looking for someone who resembles Winston; they're looking for Matthew. And they won't stop until they find what they want."
The weight of Clive's words pressed heavily on my chest. My heart raced as I imagined the soldiers combing the streets, faces etched with determination, searching for the man I had once been. The tension in the room thickened, and I felt the urgency of my predicament settle in like a lead weight.
"It's been years! Surely they've moved on." I protested, my voice rising in pitch.
"Maybe," Clive said, his expression inscrutable. "But the Kingdom has a long memory. They don't forget easily, especially not when it comes to traitors or secrets. You might think you're off their radar, but trust me, they're still keeping an eye out."
"Who was it, guards?" I asked, a sense of dread creeping into my voice.
Clive leaned back slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Two ladies. They didn't say their names."
"Ladies?" I repeated, my confusion evident. The idea of two women being sent to track me down felt absurd and disconcerting. "What could they possibly want with me? Are they really part of the Kingdom's security?"
Arney chuckled softly, though it lacked humor. "Don't underestimate them, Winston. The Kingdom has its share of skilled operatives, and not all of them fit the typical mold. Women can be just as ruthless and capable as any man, especially when they're sent on a mission."
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "But why two women? Isn't that unusual? Why not send more experienced guards or soldiers?"
Clive shrugged, his demeanor unyielding. "Perhaps they wanted to catch you off guard. Or maybe they thought you wouldn't recognize them. Sometimes the most effective hunters don't look the part."
The weight of his words settled heavily on me. The thought of two women, skilled and resourceful, hot on my trail sent chills down my spine. "What do I do if they find me?" I asked, anxiety creeping into my voice.
Arney exchanged a glance with Clive before answering. "You need to stay one step ahead of them. Don't make any sudden movements, and for the love of all that's holy, don't draw attention to yourself. If they're already here, it means they're getting close."
Clive leaned in, his voice low and firm. "I want you to stay away from here. I don't want you to draw in the wrong attention. I'll get Throne and the others to keep an eye on them until they leave. They didn't look like they were staying long."
"What do you want me to do then? What about the letter?" I asked, the urgency of our situation weighing heavily on my mind.
"I'll deal with that from now on," Clive replied, his expression unyielding. "You and Arney need to make a trip to Cowgate. The Valorians have been spotted on the outskirts of town. Infiltrate their base and find out information about their general. Rumour has it that he's the King's pet, and he must have more information about their next target."
I blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in focus. "Cowgate? That's a pretty small town, what if we get caught?"
Clive held my gaze, his eyes intense and unwavering. "That's why you'll need to be smart about it. Use disguises, blend in. Get the lay of the land and gather whatever intel you can. If we know their next move, we can counter it before they strike."
Arney nodded, his expression serious. "We can make it work. We've done it before. Just stick to the plan and keep your eyes open. If we can get even a hint of their strategy, it could give us an edge."
I felt a mix of anxiety and determination at the prospect. "Alright," I said slowly, weighing the risks. "But how do we get there without attracting attention? If they're already searching for me, I can't just stroll through town."
Clive leaned back, contemplating for a moment. "Take the back roads. There are plenty of hidden paths that lead to Cowgate without going through the main gates. Avoid the patrols, and don't linger too long in one place. You'll have to be swift and discreet."
Arney chimed in, "We can gather supplies and gear that'll help us blend in. I know a few people in Cowgate who owe me favors; they might have intel or disguises we can use."
"Good," Clive replied, a hint of approval in his voice. "Just remember, the Valorians are not to be underestimated. They're desperate, and that makes them dangerous. Get what you need, find out what you can, and I'll send word once you can come back and the ladies looking for you have left."
As I nodded, I felt the weight of the task ahead. The urgency of the mission was palpable, but the thought of facing the Valorians filled me with dread. "Understood. We'll get it done," I said, determination settling in as I prepared for what lay ahead.