Delios
Delios rubbed his eyes, stumbling forward. The preparation for the great council and the Assanaten invasion had kept him awake until deep into the night. He must have hardly been asleep for an hour when the guard roused him. Still, the anax would find fault seeing Delios with sleep in his eyes while his beloved city was in danger. He is good at that, he thought, resigning himself.
He walked down the narrow road to the buildings that made up the lower palace. The guard that had come to fetch him followed behind with a torch, lighting their way. Morning was still an hour or more away and Delios asked himself if he would see any sleep before dawn. Probably not.
They made for a one-story side building that was used to house the palace’s sick and wounded. A dozen warriors were gathered in front of the entrance. All of them were grizzled veterans, wearing the best equipment the anax could afford.
Only one of them rose to great Delios.
“My father is with the first warrior?” he asked the leader of the group.
“Yes,” the man responded. “You can go inside.”
He was blunt. Others might have seen insult in the way he spoke to somebody of Delios’ standing but it was the way the anax liked it. Memnostis was a leader of warriors. The merchants, captains, and priests of Riadnos had grown rich under his rule but he made sure that his warriors were always respected and had coins in their pockets. They repaid him with their loyalty.
Delios nodded his thanks and stepped past the man. He entered an expensive room with cots running on both sides, a quarter of which was divided off with a curtain. The surgeon used that area for his consultations. And work.
A man was sitting next to the only occupied cot. Delios stopped a couple of steps away and waited silently to be addressed.
“Come closer and have a seat,” his father said, kicking a low stool in Delios’ direction.
Delios obeyed.
They sat there in the dark for a while. Several times Delios felt the urge to say something – anything- to break the silence. He fought it down every time.
He hated spending time alone with Memnostis. It wasn’t that they had a bad relationship as such. They just didn’t really have any at all. Delios had always been close with his late mother and his sister. He liked to work with the priests and scribes that administrated the city. His older brother Dorios had been the warrior. Brazen and loud.
“Tell me about that sage,” the anax said, finally interrupting the silence. There was no question which one he meant.
“Master Mar’Doug,” Delios said. “We couldn’t find anything about his background. No stories. No rumors. Nothing.” He shrugged. “We spoke to all the captains and merchant families. I sent men to the taverns. All to no avail thus far.”
Aware that his father valued results not effort he changed direction. “He has the appearance of a man in his thirties. Based on his skin tone he’s from the far north, but he speaks our language without accent. The servants say he practices exceptional grooming. He spent a lot of time with the tailor and the man that prepares the oils and herbs for the palace.”
“Hm.”
After waiting a short moment in case his father intended to say something more, Delios continued. “He hasn’t asked for anything nor stated another purpose other than delivering the warning.”
Here he made a pause.
His father just sat there listening, his scarred arms crossed. Memnostis’ stoic stature had always been unnerving to Delios. Today, he didn’t intend to show it.
“Mistress Bel’Sara asked me to support the men from the Half-Moon Valley who are here from the Drive. Apparently, they expect refugees to come through the mountain pass. I promised them food and weapons. I also ordered two of our warriors with experience in the mountains to go with them.”
Another drawn-out pause.
Memnostis leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees. He stared at his son with unreadable eyes. “Why?”
Delios had been ready for the question, yet he was still nervous. “I thought it wise to give a favor to the sage. The request might even have originated with master Mar’Doug. He seems close to the valley people.”
Again, Memnostis let the silence drag on for an unnervingly long time. “We only have a limited number of trained warriors. And a good number of them died with my son.”
Delios nodded. He had to tread carefully here. “The refugees will bring us news from the enemy’s movement. I ordered our men to stay behind and observe the pass. If the Assanaten want to attack us, that is the direction they must come.”
The anax studied him for another two heartbeats. Then he rose and turned to the door. Delios followed his father.
“I suggest that we send more scouts after them,” Delios said. “There is only one way up to the plateau on our side but there are several paths that lead there from the east and north-east.”
“I already gave the order,” his father said without looking back.
When they stepped through the door, the anax turned to the leader of the warriors. “The first warrior is dead. His funeral will be held tomorrow. Let it be known that I expect all of Riadnos to pay respect to him and his family.”
The man gave a sharp nod. “Yes, anax.”
His father turned and looked into the faces of the warriors surrounding him.
“The last words Ajaxos spoke was to watch out for the lake. Those southern cockroaches can’t swim for shit, but they are hard to drown!”
The words provoked grim laughter. The men knew they might have a hard fight ahead. And they had already lost their most experienced leader.
“Go now,” Memnostis said. “Fulfil your orders, then rest.” He waved them off and the group dispersed except for two that followed the anax as his bodyguard.
Memnostis turned to Delios, scrutinizing him from his feet to his head. “Walk with me.”
Father and son moved side by side, climbing the road to the higher palace that housed their family. Delios kept quiet. Thus far, his father hadn’t criticized or revoked any of his actions. Was that a good sign?
“I want you to get close to that new sage,” Memnostis said. “Learn what he wants, what his purpose for being here is. Take your sister with you.”
Delios couldn’t hide the surprise that flashed across his face. His sister rarely left the higher palace for other reasons than religious occasions. Wanting to use her Gift showed how serious Memnostis took the situation.
“Do you think the sage might be a threat?” Delios asked, hoping his father would share at least some of his thoughts with him.
“If you want to be anax one day, you should learn paranoia,” his father said. “Many of the legends, in which one of Nemki’s seven sages appears, involve great change. Mistress Bel’Sara was here, advising us when we broke the siege fifteen years ago. To this day, I don’t know why she came to help us back then.”
Delios just stared at his father. “This…I thought she was friendly with our family? She visited us several times over the years. She even taught lessons to Delia and me.” The lessons had been meant for all three of the anax’s children, but Dorios had always snuck away or skipped them outright.
He always preferred arms training over spending time with the scholars and philosophers Memnostis paid to teach his children. Most of their teachers had given up on forcing Dorios to learn fairly quickly. One had only learned that lesson after a broken arm.
Now that he thought about it, mistress Bel’Sara had been completely indifferent about him.
“You called for a great council,” the anax said.
There it was.
Delios set his jaw. “Yes, I decided it was prudent not to wait. I couldn’t be sure how long it would take the messengers to find you. Some of our retainers and allies are a long journey away.”
Only his father had the right to call in the council. It was the privilege of the anax. The call would bring leaders and their warriors from as far as the Helcenaean mainland to Riadnos to deliberate. Not all of them were friends.
Delios almost jumped when he felt his father’s heavy hand on his shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have to say this”, Memnostis said, looking into his son’s eyes, “but I will do so anyway. You are my oldest son now. But that alone doesn’t make you the next anax. You need the warriors, the basileis, and the gods on your side. Or at least enough of them.” He took his hand away and continued to walk.
His meaning was clear. They will all be watching me now, Delios thought. Every step I take, every decision I make. Walking next to his father, he felt very alone.
Was that how his father felt? At least he had Ajaxos by his side. There was nobody Memnostis had relied on more.
“I am glad you were able to speak with Ajaxos before he passed,” Delios said. “He’s with the gods now.”
“He was already dead when I arrived,” Memnostis said.
Delios
Delios rubbed his eyes, stumbling forward. The preparation for the great council and the Assanaten invasion had kept him awake until deep into the night. He must have hardly been asleep for an hour when the guard roused him. Still, the anax would find fault seeing Delios with sleep in his eyes while his beloved city was in danger. He is good at that, he thought, resigning himself.
He walked down the narrow road to the buildings that made up the lower palace. The guard that had come to fetch him followed behind with a torch, lighting their way. Morning was still an hour or more away and Delios asked himself if he would see any sleep before dawn. Probably not.
They made for a one-story side building that was used to house the palace’s sick and wounded. A dozen warriors were gathered in front of the entrance. All of them were grizzled veterans, wearing the best equipment the anax could afford.
Only one of them rose to great Delios.
“My father is with the first warrior?” he asked the leader of the group.
“Yes,” the man responded. “You can go inside.”
He was blunt. Others might have seen insult in the way he spoke to somebody of Delios’ standing but it was the way the anax liked it. Memnostis was a leader of warriors. The merchants, captains, and priests of Riadnos had grown rich under his rule but he made sure that his warriors were always respected and had coins in their pockets. They repaid him with their loyalty.
Delios nodded his thanks and stepped past the man. He entered an expensive room with cots running on both sides, a quarter of which was divided off with a curtain. The surgeon used that area for his consultations. And work.
A man was sitting next to the only occupied cot. Delios stopped a couple of steps away and waited silently to be addressed.
“Come closer and have a seat,” his father said, kicking a low stool in Delios’ direction.
Delios obeyed.
They sat there in the dark for a while. Several times Delios felt the urge to say something – anything- to break the silence. He fought it down every time.
He hated spending time alone with Memnostis. It wasn’t that they had a bad relationship as such. They just didn’t really have any at all. Delios had always been close with his late mother and his sister. He liked to work with the priests and scribes that administrated the city. His older brother Dorios had been the warrior. Brazen and loud.
“Tell me about that sage,” the anax said, finally interrupting the silence. There was no question which one he meant.
“Master Mar’Doug,” Delios said. “We couldn’t find anything about his background. No stories. No rumors. Nothing.” He shrugged. “We spoke to all the captains and merchant families. I sent men to the taverns. All to no avail thus far.”
Aware that his father valued results not effort he changed direction. “He has the appearance of a man in his thirties. Based on his skin tone he’s from the far north, but he speaks our language without accent. The servants say he practices exceptional grooming. He spent a lot of time with the tailor and the man that prepares the oils and herbs for the palace.”
“Hm.”
After waiting a short moment in case his father intended to say something more, Delios continued. “He hasn’t asked for anything nor stated another purpose other than delivering the warning.”
Here he made a pause.
His father just sat there listening, his scarred arms crossed. Memnostis’ stoic stature had always been unnerving to Delios. Today, he didn’t intend to show it.
“Mistress Bel’Sara asked me to support the men from the Half-Moon Valley who are here from the Drive. Apparently, they expect refugees to come through the mountain pass. I promised them food and weapons. I also ordered two of our warriors with experience in the mountains to go with them.”
Another drawn-out pause.
Memnostis leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees. He stared at his son with unreadable eyes. “Why?”
Delios had been ready for the question, yet he was still nervous. “I thought it wise to give a favor to the sage. The request might even have originated with master Mar’Doug. He seems close to the valley people.”
Again, Memnostis let the silence drag on for an unnervingly long time. “We only have a limited number of trained warriors. And a good number of them died with my son.”
Delios nodded. He had to tread carefully here. “The refugees will bring us news from the enemy’s movement. I ordered our men to stay behind and observe the pass. If the Assanaten want to attack us, that is the direction they must come.”
The anax studied him for another two heartbeats. Then he rose and turned to the door. Delios followed his father.
“I suggest that we send more scouts after them,” Delios said. “There is only one way up to the plateau on our side but there are several paths that lead there from the east and north-east.”
“I already gave the order,” his father said without looking back.
When they stepped through the door, the anax turned to the leader of the warriors. “The first warrior is dead. His funeral will be held tomorrow. Let it be known that I expect all of Riadnos to pay respect to him and his family.”
The man gave a sharp nod. “Yes, anax.”
His father turned and looked into the faces of the warriors surrounding him.
“The last words Ajaxos spoke was to watch out for the lake. Those southern cockroaches can’t swim for shit, but they are hard to drown!”
The words provoked grim laughter. The men knew they might have a hard fight ahead. And they had already lost their most experienced leader.
“Go now,” Memnostis said. “Fulfil your orders, then rest.” He waved them off and the group dispersed except for two that followed the anax as his bodyguard.
Memnostis turned to Delios, scrutinizing him from his feet to his head. “Walk with me.”
Father and son moved side by side, climbing the road to the higher palace that housed their family. Delios kept quiet. Thus far, his father hadn’t criticized or revoked any of his actions. Was that a good sign?
“I want you to get close to that new sage,” Memnostis said. “Learn what he wants, what his purpose for being here is. Take your sister with you.”
Delios couldn’t hide the surprise that flashed across his face. His sister rarely left the higher palace for other reasons than religious occasions. Wanting to use her Gift showed how serious Memnostis took the situation.
“Do you think the sage might be a threat?” Delios asked, hoping his father would share at least some of his thoughts with him.
“If you want to be anax one day, you should learn paranoia,” his father said. “Many of the legends, in which one of Nemki’s seven sages appears, involve great change. Mistress Bel’Sara was here, advising us when we broke the siege fifteen years ago. To this day, I don’t know why she came to help us back then.”
Delios just stared at his father. “This…I thought she was friendly with our family? She visited us several times over the years. She even taught lessons to Delia and me.” The lessons had been meant for all three of the anax’s children, but Dorios had always snuck away or skipped them outright.
He always preferred arms training over spending time with the scholars and philosophers Memnostis paid to teach his children. Most of their teachers had given up on forcing Dorios to learn fairly quickly. One had only learned that lesson after a broken arm.
Now that he thought about it, mistress Bel’Sara had been completely indifferent about him.
“You called for a great council,” the anax said.
There it was.
Delios set his jaw. “Yes, I decided it was prudent not to wait. I couldn’t be sure how long it would take the messengers to find you. Some of our retainers and allies are a long journey away.”
Only his father had the right to call in the council. It was the privilege of the anax. The call would bring leaders and their warriors from as far as the Helcenaean mainland to Riadnos to deliberate. Not all of them were friends.
Delios almost jumped when he felt his father’s heavy hand on his shoulder.
“I shouldn’t have to say this”, Memnostis said, looking into his son’s eyes, “but I will do so anyway. You are my oldest son now. But that alone doesn’t make you the next anax. You need the warriors, the basileis, and the gods on your side. Or at least enough of them.” He took his hand away and continued to walk.
His meaning was clear. They will all be watching me now, Delios thought. Every step I take, every decision I make. Walking next to his father, he felt very alone.
Was that how his father felt? At least he had Ajaxos by his side. There was nobody Memnostis had relied on more.
“I am glad you were able to speak with Ajaxos before he passed,” Delios said. “He’s with the gods now.”
“He was already dead when I arrived,” Memnostis said.
