Jerusalem did not sleep that night.
The city was quiet — yes — but not peaceful.
The silence felt like a blade resting on the edge of a throat.
Roland stood in the palace courtyard just before dawn, dressed in full armor, his cloak pulled tight against the cold desert wind. Lucien stood beside him, sharpening a dagger.
"This is it," Lucien said. "No more shadows. No more whispers."
Roland nodded. "Today we cut their network apart."
From the far gate, Sir Aldred approached with twenty knights — all hand-picked, all loyal.
The bishop arrived moments later, hood drawn low.
Everything was in motion.
Operation: Sever the Roots
Roland gathered the group around a large, unlit brazier.
"Eberhardt and his allies plan to destabilize the city the moment the Saracen army strikes," Roland said. "We end that today — before their first move."
He divided the teams.
Lucien would intercept one conspirator at the noble quarter.
Sir Aldred would detain another near the old armory.
Roland himself would confront Eberhardt.
The bishop would ensure all arrests appeared legal under church authority.
Everything needed to be swift. Silent. Clean.
"Take them alive," Roland ordered. "We need information. We need proof. We need legitimacy."
Lucien laughed. "Alive? You ask for difficult things."
Roland smirked. "For you, it should be easy."
Then the teams split.
The Arrests Begin
By sunrise, two conspirators were in custody — disarmed, terrified, and struggling uselessly against Aldred's and Lucien's men.
The arrests were quick, near-bloodless, and quiet.
Roland was proud of that.
Unnecessary chaos could fracture the city further.
Only one target remained.
Lord Eberhardt.
The Confrontation in the Marble Hall
Roland found him in the marble council hall, standing alone by the long table, sunlight glinting off the polished stone.
Eberhardt didn't flinch when Roland entered.
"So," he said, "you've come to play king."
Roland stopped five paces away. "I've come to end your betrayal."
Eberhardt scoffed. "Jerusalem belongs to nobles, not to some foreign-born knight with tricks and ideas."
Roland's voice was steady. "You conspired to weaken the city while an enemy army marches toward us. How do you justify that?"
"Because a weak city," Eberhardt hissed, "cannot tolerate a rising tyrant."
Roland's jaw tightened. "I am no tyrant."
"You will be!" Eberhardt shouted. "You gain followers, shape the army, influence the bishop — you think I don't see? You're building a throne beneath our noses."
Roland's silence confirmed it more clearly than words ever could.
Eberhardt laughed bitterly. "Then kill me and be done with it."
Roland shook his head. "No. Your trial will be public. Your crimes will be exposed. The city will see your betrayal for what it is."
That shook Eberhardt.
Real fear flashed in his eyes.
"Then I die disgraced," he whispered.
Roland approached slowly. "I take no pleasure in this. But your actions endangered thousands. You forced this."
Just then, footsteps echoed behind Roland — Lucien, Aldred, and the bishop arrived with guards.
"Lord Eberhardt," the bishop declared, "you are under arrest for treason against the Kingdom of Jerusalem."
Eberhardt sagged, defeated.
But as the guards approached…
He smirked.
And that expression chilled Roland's blood.
"Your reforms," Eberhardt said softly, "your influence… you think you've won. But you know nothing."
Roland stepped closer. "What have you done?"
Eberhardt leaned in.
"There is another traitor," he whispered. "Closer than you think."
Then he fell silent.
And refused to speak again.
The Betrayal
Two hours later, Roland's inner circle gathered in a secure chamber. The mood was tense. Lucien paced. Sir Aldred slammed his palm against the stone table.
"There's another conspirator?" Aldred growled. "Who? How many more?"
Roland didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth struck him the moment he heard Eberhardt's words.
Someone close.
Someone with access.
Someone who had avoided suspicion.
Marcus — the servant boy — stood quietly near the door carrying a tray.
Aldred saw Roland staring and frowned. "What is it?"
Roland approached the boy slowly.
"Marcus," he said, "you told me everything you heard. But you left one thing out."
Marcus froze.
"You didn't tell me who delivered messages between the conspirators."
Marcus trembled. "I… I didn't know if I should—"
Roland locked eyes with him. "Who was it?"
Marcus swallowed hard.
"It was… a scribe, sir. One of the palace scribes."
Roland stepped back.
A scribe.
Someone with access to letters, council documents, maps — all the kingdom's strategies.
The bishop's eyes widened. "One of my own staff."
Lucien swore violently.
Aldred gripped his sword. "We need to find him now."
But Roland raised a hand.
"Too late."
He turned toward the small window.
Black smoke rose from the eastern quarter.
The scribes' archive room — on fire.
A man fleeing on horseback down the main market road.
The last conspirator.
Burning evidence.
Running for the Saracen lines.
Roland's voice went cold.
"He's going to deliver everything. Our troop numbers. Our supply routes. Our weak points."
Lucien grabbed his horse reins. "Then we ride."
"No." Roland stepped forward. "I ride."
Lucien frowned. "Roland—"
"If I let him reach the enemy," Roland said, "Jerusalem will fall before the war even begins."
He pulled his helmet over his head, tightening the strap.
Sir Aldred placed a fist to his chest. "Then God be with you."
Roland mounted his horse.
And with a kick of his heels, he charged through the palace gates.
The Race to the Desert
Jerusalem blurred behind him — stone walls, merchant stalls, shouting guards — until only the open desert stretched ahead.
The fleeing scribe was just a distant figure riding hard toward the valley path.
Roland leaned forward, pushing his horse faster.
The desert wind roared.
Sand tore at his eyes.
His pulse thundered.
He couldn't fail.
He would not allow Jerusalem to fall because of this one coward.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer—
The scribe turned, eyes wide with panic.
Roland drew his sword.
The chase had begun.
The Chapter Ends on a Cliffhanger
Because this moment — this race — is a turning point in the story.
Jerusalem's fate rides on one runaway traitor.
Roland's authority depends on catching him.
And the war with the Saracens is about to begin.