Chapter 287: Eavesdropping

The Scouts began talking quietly. At first, Darion only caught fragments because of their distance and the low volume of their voices.

He used the bird’s vision to observe their mouths while simultaneously listening from his hiding position. Between the actual words he could hear and his ability to read their lips, the conversation slowly became understandable.

"The Baron is probably out," one of them said, his voice low and casual.

The other nodded, lowering his perspective glasses. "We’ve been watching all day. Haven’t seen him return yet."

Darion’s expression changed. He realized they had been there for hours. This wasn’t some random observation. They had specifically been watching his movements.

"They have a small force for sure," the first scout continued. "I’ve only seen a handful of guards. The walls are solid, but the castle itself doesn’t seem heavily defended."

The second scout shrugged. "That’s what the reports said. Percvale is still recovering. They’re not ready for a fight."

Darion’s blood ran cold. Reports. There were reports about Percvale. Someone had been gathering information about his territory for some time.

"What about the Baron?" the first scout asked. "We’ve seen him maybe twice. He seems young."

"He is young," the second scout replied. "But he’s supposed to be dangerous. You know the rumors say he has... abilities."

Darion’s jaw tightened. They knew about him. They had heard rumors, but they were dismissing them. They didn’t think he was a threat.

"We need to keep watching," the second scout said. "The war chief wants a full report before we move."

Darion’s eyes narrowed. Vrethka. He had never heard of that place before.

The scouts continued their conversation, their voices low but clear enough for Darion to catch most of their words.

They spoke of a war they had just won, a conflict that had left Vrethka stronger than before. They spoke of men and resources, of new territory and increased confidence.

"After what happened at Harrowhold," one scout said, "There’s no reason to hesitate anymore. Vrethka is stronger."

Darion’s eyes narrowed further. Harrowhold. Another name he didn’t recognize. But the context was clear, Vrethka had won a war, and now they felt powerful enough to turn their attention to other territories.

Like Percvale.

The scouts discussed the castle’s defenses, the number of guards they had seen, the layout of the farmland. They spoke of the walls, the gates, the entrance points. They were assessing Percvale’s vulnerabilities.

Darion’s stomach tightened. He realized this wasn’t simply a conversation about some distant war. They were talking about the consequences of that victory. They were discussing whether Percvale could be conquered.

"The Baron doesn’t appear to have a large conventional army," one scout observed. "The knights we’ve seen are well-trained, but there aren’t many of them."

The other agreed. "We could take them. If we hit fast and hard, they wouldn’t be able to mount a proper defense."

Darion’s blood ran cold. They were planning to attack. They were planning to conquer Percvale.

Darion remained completely motionless. He didn’t immediately react because doing so could expose him.

His first instinct was anger, a hot, furious anger that burned in his chest. His second was concern, a cold, calculating concern that made him think of his people, his knights, his territory. His third was calculation, a sharp, focused calculation that assessed the threat and weighed his options.

They’re planning to attack.

He slowly processed everything they had said. Vrethka had just won a war. That victory had apparently given them more soldiers, resources, and confidence. And now they were considering using that newfound strength against Percvale.

He thought about how close the scouts were to his castle. If these were only scouts, there must be people behind them. An army might already be preparing somewhere. Or perhaps the attack hadn’t begun yet.

How long do we have?

That was the question that mattered. He didn’t know. It could be days. It could be weeks. It could even be tomorrow.

He considered confronting the scouts, capturing them and interrogating them. The thought crossed his mind, tempting him with its simplicity.

But he decided against it. If they disappeared without reporting back, whoever sent them might become suspicious. Worse, if there were more scouts nearby, attacking these two could alert the others.

’If I kill them, I learn nothing.’

He needed to know who exactly they worked for, how large their army was, where it was located, and when they intended to attack. He needed to know how much they knew about Percvale, and whether Vrethka itself was involved. Killing the scouts would give him none of that.

So Darion remained hidden. He waited until he had heard enough.

Eventually, the scouts began preparing to leave. They packed their equipment, climbed down from the tree, and moved off through the forest. Darion didn’t follow them immediately. He hid well so they didn’t see him, letting them move first, maintaining his distance.

Once he was certain they hadn’t noticed him, Darion slowly withdrew. He moved back toward the road, his steps careful, his mind racing. He recalled the undead bird, its vision disappearing as it dissolved into green light. Before dismissing it, he had used its eyes one final time to check the surrounding forest. He saw no obvious additional scouts.

Still, he didn’t trust the area anymore.

He finally unsummoned the bird. Its vision disappeared. For a moment, he simply stood there, his mind processing everything he had learned.

Everything looked normal. The road, the forest, Percvale in the distance, people going about their business. But Darion now knew something they didn’t.

Someone was preparing for war.

Darion walked toward Percvale at a normal pace. Anyone watching him would think nothing was wrong. He didn’t run. He didn’t summon undead. He didn’t immediately call for the knights. He didn’t want to create panic before he understood the situation.

But internally, his thoughts were moving incredibly fast.

Vrethka. A war. They won. And now they’re coming for Percvale.

He thought about Garren. Garren needed to know. Seren needed to know. The knights needed to be prepared. Perhaps the castle’s defenses needed to be inspected immediately. Perhaps he needed to send scouts of his own.

He reached the castle gates.