Lord Arutha waited on his throne, tensing and relaxing his muscles. He knew many things. He was no naive King. No, he knew the thick air between the two Realms. Civil war was about to occur, a bloody thing that would not help either side. No doubt the men from the North would strike down at them when they were weakest, re-sparking the war that had only been finished years before. Another Great War, but this time it would end quite differently: surely the Kingdom would fall.
It was by his suspicions that he had first planted spies into the Court of the East, governors of minor, and a few larger, areas. Sirs, minor nobles, placed in the right place was exactly what was needed to keep the tides of the bloodiest event that could happen to the Kingdom at bay. Spies; men of false identities. Arutha was certain that the East had spies of their own in his Court, but he was damned well sure that they weren't in any rank too high to bring peril to his Realm.
That was how he knew that he was to be attacked this night. First it had been his men reporting the absence of a Knight, a man who was shrouded in mystery. His past: unknown. No-one seemed to recall his knighting, or why he was knighted. There were a handful of people that had showed a second of recognition, but quickly covered there expressions, stammering out a few words explaining that they knew nothing of the man.
This information was not enough alone though. Arutha could not be certain off of this fact alone. It was possible that this Knight of the East - Sir Joshua - was a man who had turned from the Men of the North in the Great War.
Then, more dangerous word reached his ear. The King of the East, a close relative of Arutha, a man who Arutha thought for a long time he could call friend, had sent the call. He was mustering the Armies of the East, his call to arms being passed on from one province to the next.
There could only be one reason for this, and Arutha knew it. The only understandable reason for the call was to invade. The only logical way to invade the strong men of the West would be in confusion: and the only way to call such a confusion would be through the highest officer to be laid down, dead. Himself.
Arutha was expecting this noble to come to his castle any day. So, he had waited. He was a patient man, and had doubled his training. He had waited for the presumable assassin to reach his door. So he was ready for all of this. He knew as soon as he had not heard call of his guards at the nightly chime that they were dead. They would be missed greatly, as only the finest deserved the job to guard the King.
He arose from his throne, a smooth oaken thing, designs and banners flying across its head, the Armies of the West. He spoke in a calm voice, his eyes stern as they looked upon the man who had intruded his home. It was not his own wants that had brought him here, but the lusts of the true King, Lord of the East. It was not his fate to have come here today.
But nor was it his fate to die. Not here, in this room, not here in his castle, not here in his Realm! He would not let the East trample over the well-won soil, each metre of it earned with blood and bone during the Great War.
"So, my cousin sends his finest does he? Only the best could sneak past my men," Arutha said. He decided not to let the man think that he knew not of the doom of his watch, twenty brave souls. He silently spoke blessings upon them in his head. "That is no matter. You are here to kill me, then, Sir Joshua, Knight of the Eastern Realm? Do not think that you can win without a fight. No, I will not let you win. I slayed many men in the Great War, dozens of assassins sent by the Emperor of the North. I do not fear you."
He strayed as he spoke these words, and he pressed his hand against the wall. It slid clockwise, concealing him from the arrows of the assassin if he was to fire. He pulled a lever, an old and rusted piece of machinery, which immediately clogged the mechanisms in the wall that opened the 'door'. Inside was his most valued armour, worn by his father before his demise mid-way during the Great War.
It was said that these pieces were blessed by the Divines long ago, when the Kingdom settled in these great lands of pasture and mountains. He would wear it, and do it honour. He quickly changed, donning both chain and plate, and placed a sword of purest glimmer on his waist.
He was ready to fight the challenger of the East. It was tradition that they would fight blade to blade, man to man... but something told Arutha that Sir Joshua did not play by the rules of the Kingdom. So, neither would he.
A smile set in his face, his eyes starting to glint with what would turn into the burning depths of a dragon's chest, Arutha opened a locked trapdoor, sinking into the chambers below. It was time for him to find the assassin. His father often spoke to him of lines of mighty men from the past.
The mirth inside him forced a laugh, and he stammered out the lines that seemed to perfectly fit this situation, "Kill or be killed."