Rattus Rex

Chapter 48 - Bait (1)

Cresting the final hill before his destination, Heston Regias looked down upon the town of Tremon, marveling at its growth. When he had left for the academy almost three years ago, there had been signs of change in the air, but coming back it almost seemed like a different settlement entirely.

Before, the river had marked the eastern border of the town, as it bend around the small palisade, however, now the town had spilled over onto the other riverbank, while a solid stone wall had replaced the rickety palisade.

The town center, which had been dominated by wooden buildings before, was now set with robust stone buildings, which rose higher than the old ones ever had. Ever inch of the town seemed to have grown more prosperous and elegant.

Looking at all of this change, Heston could not help but feel conflicted about what was about to happen in this place. “Bait, huh?” He mumbled to himself, pulling on the reins of his horse, an intelligent courser he had aptly named ‘Spot,’ because of its many markings of red upon white.

Spot shook its head, but halted its step, leaving Heston to gaze into the distance, as well as into the past. The discussion of the night before still echoed in his mind, like a bad dream that would not be dispelled.

“He’s our bait, you say?” Captain Merdo had leaned forward and studied Heston closer, “Does he have any particular value for the Undergrowth, then? Or is he one of them?”

Heston had straightened in his seat, swallowing the protest in his throat with visible effort. General Firande had seen this, his smile growing further. “No, he does not,” the general finally admitted, after enough time had passed that Heston could have attempted to bolt or defend himself, “And no, he is not.”

Seeing that his move to remain silent had paid off, Heston almost breathed a sigh of relief before the general continued, “The lieutenant has two qualities which makes him useful in our endeavor. First, he has only recently received his commission, and is therefore too green to have had any interaction with the Undergrowth, knowingly or otherwise. Second, he is from around these parts, providing a perfect excuse for him to enter town on, say, his way home for a visit to his family.”

I was right, Heston thought. He had indeed been chosen for this mission because of his family ties to this land.

“I can see that those things are useful,” Merdo agreed, “But I don’t see how it makes him bait. Why would the Undergrowth take any interest in an officer returning home for a visit?”

“Because he is exactly who we would send,” the general said, still smiling. At Merdo’s confused expression, the general elaborated. “Let me explain the situation in full, then all should become clear. While, as I said, we know next to nothing about the overall aim of the Undergrowth, we do know one very important fact: they are looking for something. Items, to be exact.”

“What kind of items?” Arlean said.

“The dangerous kind,” the general shook his head, “Very dangerous. We have seen them go to incredible lengths to acquire these objects from across the kingdom, and, indeed, from beyond. They’ve spared no expense either, making this the single most important piece of information we can use to bring them down.”

He looked around the table, as they all digested this information and nodded. “Thus, over the past year, we’ve been seeding the underground with information about a certain ingredient, the Hell Seed, which the Undergrowth has been looking very ardently for.”

“I presume you have the genuine article,” Arlean said, drumming the table, “The Hell Seed I know of is a highly toxic gemstone, said to curse anyone who touches it. I heard that the kingdom holds a sample for magical research, but I’ve never confirmed it.”

“We do,” the general admitted, “And with the Spider’s capabilities, we saw no other way than to present the genuine thing, or we would have been seen through before we even started.”

Clearing his throat, the general continued, “Six months ago, an agent of ours was contacted with an offer for the Seed, which we made sure to reject. Negotiations ensued, which contents I won’t bore you with; suffice it to say that they included as much threats as it did enticements. In the end, however, our agent agreed to an offer, upon the condition that he be offered the chance to hand the seed over to the Rat King himself.”

“And they agreed to this?” Arlean looked surprised, as did Merdo. Dorok looked bored.

“They did. That was almost three weeks ago. Our agent was bidden travel here, to Tremon, to meet the Rat King, at which time I assembled you all and left, trailing the caravan of our agent from a safe distance.”

“And leaving all of our forces back in the capitol, while scavenging troops on the way,” Merdo commented, sourly.

“A necessary precaution, I assure you,” the general said, nodding in understanding. “Had we left with a sizable force, the Spider would have been immediately alerted as to both our size and path of travel. The commissioning of men from the local garrisons on our path was also necessary, as a few men going missing here and there will leave no significant trail for the Spider to accurately gauge our numbers by.”

“You speak as if they know we’re here, regardless of all of our precautions,” Arlean noted, now as sourly as Merdo, “Then what was the bloody point of all this subterfuge?”

The general nodded and said, “I fully expect that they are aware they are entering into a trap, which makes it all the more important that we give off the impression that we don’t expect them to know.”

“Which is why we’re sending in an officer who’s almost too perfect for the job. Exactly because his cover is so perfect, the Undergrowth will immediately take note of him,” Merdo rubbed his chin and grinned, “I can see where you’re going with this now, General. I must say it is most devious.”

“Indeed. If we are to catch this beast, we must be twice as cunning, twice as resourceful, and twice as ruthless.”

Heston had followed this conversation with both eyes and ears wide open. He knew most people thought him a bit daft, due to his obsession with the martial arts and strength, but he understood as well as anyone the importance of strategy and tactics in warfare, and perhaps even more so in unseen warfare.

Now that he was looking down upon Tremon, in bright daylight, he could not help but replay the conversation in his mind, as it was practically a field study in the intricacies he would one day need to master. The general could have just ordered him to go into Tremon and make contact with their agent, without allowing him the opportunity to witness the thought behind this action.

The fact that he had given Heston this chance was a double-edged sword. Knowing what he now knew, Heston fully appreciated the importance of his task, while also making him wary of anything and anyone in his path—a fact that could easily alert the enemy to his actual purpose.

As he pushed his heels into Spot’s flanks, ordering the march forward, he considered whether the general perhaps wanted the agents of the Undergrowth to be suspicious of him. The layers of deception in this scheme made Heston’s head hurt, a fact that even captain Merdo had commented on.

“Why go through such lengths for these… thieves, General? I understand that they are a nuisance, but what harm can they actually do, which requires a general of the king’s army to come personally and see to their end?”

General Firande had eyed Merdo; his ghastly blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Did I not just explain how they’ve spread their influence across the kingdom?”

“Yes, but there’s always been thieves and cut-throats in every part of the kingdom. Whether they organize or not, why should we go out of our way to root them out when they will all, eventually, face the chopping block of the king’s justice when they inevitably screw something up? Have crime suddenly spiked after their ascent, enough so to warrant this exercise?”

“No, as a matter of fact, quite the contrary,” Arlean said, after a brief pause where the general had said nothing. “I have worked with the magistrates for many years, and I’ve seen the numbers. Petty theft and violent crime has been on the decline for the past three years at least.”

“Well, there you go. The Undergrowth is actually performing us a service,” Merdo said, his insubordinate tone creeping into his voice once more, “If they’ve placed reins on the unruly rabble, and channeled their energy into something a bit more… sophisticated, shouldn’t we just live and let live, General?”

Once more, the general kept quiet, enough so that Arlean studied the man closely. Finally, the wizened old woman leaned forward and said, “It’s because they’re undermining royal authority, is it not?”

Merdo scoffed and said, “Surely royal authority isn’t as brittle as to be threatened by a few organized thugs…” He trailed off as he saw the expression on the general’s face, which was a mask of thinly veiled resignation.

“It is?” He asked, blinking.

“If what the general says is true,” Arlean chipped in again, seeing as the general was not being forthcoming, “Then this Undergrowth has practically established a kingdom of their own, inside His Majesty’s backyard, no less, with this Rat King as their own proclaimed monarch. The fact that petty crime has diminished only means that they have moved their targets higher up the food-chain, toward those who play a pivotal role in supporting the kingdom. If that is not a serious challenge to royal authority, then I do not know what is.”

Merdo looked from the old mage to the general a few times, before saying, “Is she speaking the truth, General?”

Looking from one interlocutor to the other, General Firande finally sighed and said, “I am not about to discuss kingdom politics with you. Suffice it to say that certain questions have been raised in recent times, as to how His Majesty is ensuring the protection of the realm. We are here to answer those questions, and to do that, we need to take out this threat. Failure is not an option. Is that clear?”

Heston’s thoughts snapped back into the present, as he arrived before the gates of Tremon; and they were actual gates, now. Not just a clobbered-together fence, as it had been in the past, but proper woodcraft, reinforced with iron and set onto solid hinges.

Once again, he found himself staring at this newfound sign of wealth, his mind still lingering on the discussion of the previous night. If this was where the Undergrowth was headquartered, could all of this newfound wealth be due to their influence? And if so, did that make the townsfolk culpable in the threat to the kingdom?

Furthermore, what of his family? Had they also grown wealthy in tune with the town, and if so, how much had they gained by associating, wittingly or not, with the hegemon of the criminal underworld?

Inside his mind, the words of the general echoed in his mind once more. The haunting sight of his blue eyes, burning with righteous fury as he spoke, “Failure is not an option.”