Chapter 5 -The Men Hidden Between the Trees

Morning settled slowly over the forest, though the deeper parts beneath the canopy still clung to darkness.

Mist drifted low between the roots like pale smoke, curling around fallen branches and damp stone. Somewhere far above, unseen birds called to one another through the trees, while the distant sound of rushing water echoed faintly through the woods.

Grover crouched beside one of his traps with narrowed eyes.

“It’s empty again,” he muttered.

Irene stood several feet away, a bundle of firewood tied neatly against her back. Her attention was elsewhere. One hand rested lightly against the bark of an old cedar tree while her gaze remained fixed ahead, deeper into the forest.

Grover noticed immediately.

“You’re doing it again.”

Silence.

“Irene.”

She tilted her head slightly.

“There are people here.”

Grover straightened.

“Hunters?”

“No.”

That single word sharpened the air between them.

Grover stepped away from the trap and moved quietly toward her. Years of hunting together had made their movements instinctive. Neither needed to explain themselves anymore.

Irene crouched slowly, fingers brushing against disturbed soil.

Boot marks.

Several.

Heavy.

Not villagers.

Not travelers.

She studied the impressions for a moment before glancing upward toward the trees.

“They’re hiding,” she said quietly.

The moment the words left her mouth, movement rippled overhead.

Steel flashed between the branches.

Grover reacted instantly, placing himself beside Irene as several cloaked figures descended from the trees in near-perfect silence.

Church soldiers.

Not priests.

Not ordinary guards.

Real soldiers.

Their silver insignias gleamed faintly beneath dark green cloaks embroidered with the symbol of the Church. Each carried weapons designed for fighting creatures far more dangerous than wolves.

One of them was bleeding heavily from the shoulder.

Irene noticed before anyone spoke.

“You’re wounded.”

The soldier stiffened slightly, clearly surprised.

Another stepped forward, hand resting cautiously near his blade.

“How did you know?”

Irene’s eyes drifted briefly toward the blood hidden beneath the man’s cloak.

“The smell.”

Grover tried very hard not to look impressed.

The soldiers exchanged glances amongst themselves.

Before the tension could rise further, another presence emerged quietly from between the trees.

Unlike the others, he wore no armor.

Dark robes hung loosely over his shoulders, their edges embroidered with thin golden patterns that almost resembled scales beneath the morning light. His black hair shifted softly with the wind, and though he appeared young, there was something unsettlingly composed about him.

Not dangerous.

Worse.

Controlled.

His amber eyes settled first on Irene.

Then Grover.

Then the firewood tied behind Irene’s back.

“You noticed them long before they descended,” he said calmly.

His voice carried no arrogance.

Just observation.

Irene studied him carefully.

“And you noticed I noticed.”

For the first time, amusement flickered faintly across the stranger’s face.

Grover immediately disliked how naturally the two were reading each other.

One of the church soldiers bowed his head slightly toward the man.

“Mage Grim.”

Ah.

So this was him.

The royal mage.

Or at least the man rumored to advise the royal family directly.

Grover had heard stories.

Most people had.

Some claimed Grim could level mountains with fire.

Others believed he could speak to spirits.

A few insisted he never aged at all.

Irene simply thought he looked tired.

Grim’s gaze shifted toward the deeper forest behind them.

“It seems our presence disturbed your morning.”

Grover crossed his arms. “You think?”

One of the soldiers looked offended.

Grim ignored him entirely.

“We’re searching for someone,” he said.

“Grover’s father,” Irene replied immediately.

This time, even Grim looked mildly surprised.

Grover blinked. “How did you—”

“The king would not send church soldiers and the royal mage into these woods for anything insignificant,” Irene said plainly. “And they would not search for Grandmother. Which leaves your father.”

Grover stared at her for a moment before sighing.

“Sometimes you scare me.”

A faint chuckle escaped one of the wounded soldiers before he quickly straightened himself again.

Grim studied Irene with growing interest.

Most people became nervous around royal authority.

She had simply solved the situation like a puzzle.

“We carry a decree from the Crown,” Grim confirmed. “The Hunter’s Guild has requested experienced trackers for an upcoming royal expedition.”

Grover frowned slightly.

“A royal expedition?”

“The Fourteen Week Trial,” said Grim.

Even the forest itself seemed quieter after those words.

Grover’s expression darkened.