Chapter 51 — Into the Camp
Dawn broke cold and gray, the kind of morning that made every sound carry further than it should, and the party set out from their camp with the same careful, deliberate pace they’d maintained the day before, moving toward the tree line where Corwin’s scouts had last reported activity.
"We scout first, full stop," Reya reminded everyone, checking her blade one final time before they entered the deeper forest. "Nobody engages without a signal. If we’re spotted before we’re ready, we fall back rather than improvise."
Yorin’s old lesson about widening attention rather than narrowing it stayed with Arlen as they moved, and he found himself, this time, actively practicing it — not just watching the ground immediately ahead, but the canopy above, the underbrush to either side, the subtle signs that something had passed through recently.
It was Sil who spotted the first perimeter marker, a crude arrangement of bent branches and strung twine positioned to snap loudly if disturbed.
"Alarm trip," he murmured, crouching beside it. "Corwin’s scouts must have caught one of these the hard way."
"There’ll be more," Reya said. "Spread out, watch for the pattern."
They found three more similar traps over the next hour, each one carefully noted and avoided, the party’s pace slowing to a careful crawl as the forest grew thicker and the goblins’ presence more evident — scattered bones, crude carvings on tree trunks, the acrid smell of poorly maintained cookfires drifting faintly on the wind.
Fennis, moving ahead on her own careful scout, returned just past midday with her expression tight and focused.
"Found the camp," she reported quietly, gathering the group close. "Larger than the fifteen estimate. I count at least twenty, maybe more I couldn’t see clearly. Rough palisade, crude but functional. And there’s a leader — bigger than the rest, carrying what looks like a proper weapon rather than scavenged junk. Matches a Rank 3 profile, easily."
"Twenty," Dorn repeated, exchanging a grim look with Doran’s old lessons clearly echoing in his memory. "That’s considerably more than what Lyra’s estimate suggested."
"Options," Reya said, turning to the group rather than dictating a decision outright.
"We could fall back, report the real numbers, request reinforcement," Cobb offered.
"We could," Reya agreed. "Costs us the reward, though, and gives them another few weeks to keep raiding the trade route while we wait for a second party to organize." She looked to Arlen. "You’ve got the most varied toolkit here. What’s your read?"
Arlen considered carefully, turning over what he actually knew — the terrain, the numbers, his own growing but still incompletely tested abilities, the very real danger of overextending the way Millbrook had punished carelessness so brutally.
"Twenty goblins with a Rank 3 leader is dangerous, but goblins fight in a specific way," he said slowly. "Guild bestiary notes describe them as disorganized without direct leadership — they scatter and panic if the leader falls or if their formation breaks early. If we can isolate the leader and remove it quickly, the rest becomes considerably more manageable."
"That’s a good theory," Fennis said. "Assumes we can actually reach the leader before the whole camp swarms us."
"It does," Arlen admitted. "I don’t have a perfect answer. Just the best one I can offer with what we know."
Reya studied the group for a long moment, weighing the risk with the same unhurried, deliberate focus she brought to every serious decision.. "We scout the palisade fully first. If there’s a weak point, an entrance we can exploit to reach the leader with speed rather than a straight assault, that changes the calculation considerably."
They spent the remainder of the afternoon completing a full careful circuit of the camp’s perimeter, Fennis and Sil handling the bulk of the reconnaissance while the others held a defensible position well back from the palisade’s alarm range. By evening, they’d identified exactly what Reya had hoped for — a poorly maintained section of the palisade’s rear, facing away from the camp’s main entrance, evidently used by the goblins themselves for waste disposal and therefore left carelessly unguarded.
"That’s our way in," Reya said, studying Fennis’s rough sketch of the camp’s layout by firelight that evening. "Small team moves through the rear breach, targets the leader directly while it’s still dark and disoriented. Rest of us create a diversion at the main entrance, drawing attention away from the real strike."
"Who goes through the breach?" Cobb asked.
"Needs to be fast, and needs to be capable of ending the leader quickly rather than dragging out an extended fight," Reya said, her gaze settling on Arlen. "You’ve got the most unpredictable toolkit. If things go wrong mid-strike, you’re the one most likely to improvise a way out."
Arlen felt the weight of the responsibility settle over him, along with a flicker of the same careful calculation he’d learned to apply to every serious decision since his very first quest. "I’ll need someone else with me. Two is safer than one, even moving fast."
"I’ll go," Fennis said immediately. "Already scouted the breach personally. Know the terrain better than anyone else here."
Reya nodded, the plan settling into place with the same brisk efficiency Arlen remembered from every expedition she’d led. "Rest of us hit the main entrance hard, loud, the moment we hear your engagement start. Goblins will scatter toward the noise if Arlen’s theory holds. That buys you both room to finish the leader before reinforcements arrive."
They finalized the details late into the evening, each person’s role settling clearly into place, and Arlen found himself, once the planning concluded and the others settled in for what rest they could manage before the pre-dawn strike, quietly turning over his own private preparations.
He wouldn’t use Ember Touch openly, not unless the fight against the leader demanded it and no other option remained — the ability still too conspicuous, too undeniably magical, to risk exposing in front of five people he genuinely liked and trusted, however much that trust had grown these past months. Enduring Vitality, at least, could operate quietly in the background, same as always, unremarkable and easily explained.
He wrote briefly in his journal by the last of the firelight, keeping the entry short given the early morning ahead.
Goblin camp, larger than expected. Twenty, possibly more, with a Rank 3 leader. Plan’s solid, I think — Fennis and I take the rear breach, aim to end the leader fast while the others create a diversion. Risky, but calculated, not reckless.
I keep thinking about Millbrook, about how badly preparation alone failed me there. This is different, though. This is a threat that fits within what the guild actually understands — dangerous, yes, but not incomprehensible the way that other thing was. I trust this plan. I trust the people executing it alongside me.
Tomorrow, we’ll see if that trust is well placed.
He closed the journal, banked what remained of the fire according to Reya’s careful watch rotation, and settled in for what few hours of rest remained before dawn — his mind already turning over every angle of the coming fight, the same patient, methodical preparation that had carried him through every serious danger so far, now aimed squarely at the breach waiting for him in the dark hours ahead.