1/20/15
King Rafin of Maetlin stood on the balcony looking down at his realm spreading into the distance. Although small, his kingdom was prosperous due to being centrally located in the region and containing the main crossroads to the surrounding kingdoms. The rustle and snap of the flags above punctuated the bustle of the market below. Usually this view swelled his heart, but today his face was clouded. Recent events in the outlying realm of Lintz were ominous.
Despite being far more populous, Lintz had never been a threat to its neighbors. The previous ruler had been pacifistic, and more interested in social functions than affairs of state. But he had died and left no heir, so the throne went to a different branch of the royal family. The new king was politically minded and showed signs of expansionist aims. He could disrupt the stability of the entire region.
General Tresk, head of the Maetlin army, had word from other kingdoms that spies from Lintz had been gathering information on their defenses. It was also said that Lintz was enlarging its army.
Since the region had been at peace for a hundred years, each kingdom kept just minimal standing armies of about a thousand troops each. They had also signed mutual assistance pacts against the possibility of invaders from outside the area. This status had held for generations.
King Rafin worried that if the peace were broken and the old pacts nullified, the most he could do was call on the farmers and tradesmen of fighting age. This would reinforce his regular army with perhaps another 4000 men, but they would be untrained and ill-equipped. If the rumors were true, the situation for Maetlin was grim indeed. Hearing a sound behind him King Rafin turned from the balcony and saw General Tresk entering.
“Good morning, your highness,” said the general. “A spy from Lintz has been captured by one of our patrols. He’s in the dungeon if you’d like to see him.”
A short time later they entered a dank, stone-lined chamber and saw an obvious foreigner chained to an iron ring in the wall and guarded by two soldiers. King Rafin observed that he was well dressed and well groomed, apart from some recent bruising. The man turned to the king as best he could against the restraints and spoke.
“King Rafin, I presume,” he said. “I am not a spy, as your men say. I am an envoy on a peaceful embassage from King Valke of Lintz. I ask you to release me that I may complete my mission.”
King Rafin turned and exited without responding. Once outside the cell he asked the general’s opinion.
“I haven’t yet found anything to support his story,” said the general. “But I’ll have the captain who brought him in look into it further.”
“Let me know if there is anything,” said the king. “But I expect he’s just trying to avoid a spy’s fate.”
General Tresk returned after a couple of weeks to give the king more details on the prisoner.
“There were four of them when they were discovered in Maetlin,” he said. “Two were killed, one was captured, and one was wounded but got away.”
“One escaped?” asked the king.
“Yes, your majesty.”
“That’s unfortunate. Now Lintz may learn we’re aware of their plot. Were they carrying anything of interest?”
“No, sire. But the squad involved probably searched for whatever personal valuables there might be. That’s customary. I’m waiting to question the sergeant who led the squad, but he’s been on leave since that day. Some sort of family emergency.”
“General, I’m convinced that was a team of spies sent to scout our weaknesses in advance of an attack. So you know what to do with that prisoner now. Ready your men for battle and order daily reports from the border posts.”
Two weeks later King Rafin was again on his balcony deep in contemplation when General Tresk rushed in behind him.
“Your majesty, they’re coming!” said the general.
“Who? What is it?”
“A large army is approaching along North Road.”
The color drained from the king’s face. “How large?”
“The captain estimates at least ten thousand.”
“The captain? You didn’t see them?”
“No, sire. I was checking on South Road. And that’s more news. A second army is approaching from that direction as well. It is also ten thousand strong. I believe it’s part of the same force.”
“We’re lost! We can’t resist that many. Why are they doing this?”
“I sent out a messenger and asked that. The only reply they gave was, ‘Return our emissary’.”
“Emissary? Then that prisoner wasn’t a spy?!”
“It appears not.”
“But then why didn’t he have any identification as such?”
“I’ve brought the sergeant that captured him. Shall I bring him in?”
“Yes. Quickly.”
A few minutes later a terrified sergeant was relating his story. “There were three of us concealed on the edge of Blackwood Forest watching North Road when we saw four riders coming. It was clear they were foreigners so we didn’t want to call out and risk them running. When they got in range we fired a volley of arrows. Two fell at once, and one was wounded but fled before we could fire again. The fourth we caught.”
“Did you search them?” asked the king. “What did you find?”
“My men each took a dead man to spoil and I took the live one. They only had a few coins and a ring or two.”
“Any papers?”
“He kept saying something about a Letter of Passport, but I don’t know nothing about what that means. I looked at it but it was just weird words like ‘Emisry’ and ‘Embraserage’. And there was a part that said ‘a gift to acknowledge your monarchy’.”
“What was the gift?”
“I didn’t see no gift! Honest. I’d tell you if I did.”
The general interrupted. “Your captain says you’ve bought a lot of
expensive things recently. A new horse, a team of oxen, and a new
field.”
“I came into some money. Um, from a relative.”
“The purchases were made with gold coins stamped with the mark of Lintz.”
“I, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. It was more gold than I’d ever seen before.”
“Take him away!” yelled the king. “He’s doomed us. Send another messenger asking for their terms.”
The next morning when King Rafin went to the balcony he saw his city completely besieged. He quickly shut the doors and staggered backwards a few steps, then grabbed the edge of a table for support. He was about to send a servant for General Tresk when he heard a knock and the general entered. He took a deep breath and stood up straight so the general wouldn’t see any weakness.
“Well?” said the king. “What terms do they want?”
“Just one, sire,” said General Tresk. “The return of their emissary.”
“We’ll have to think of some explanation, how he had an accident.”
“It won’t be that easy. Their wounded man made it home and told of being attacked without warning.”
“I’ll kill that stupid sergeant!”
“It’s even worse, sire. The emissary they sent — he was King Valke’s son.”
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