Chapter 3.
Five figures stood upon a raised granite walkway on which a small stone structure rested. Amongst them the Egyptian emissary, a male of great proportions, his stomach near extended as much as his height. A fire burned brightly inside the simple stone home shedding light upon the individuals who discussed a matter with great tension. They spoke softly in the depths of the night, as though to be concealing some great conspiracy, their voices enclosed by an infinity of chirping crickets whose sounds echoed across the ancient Hellenic hills.
“I risk my life to be here, warlord, and you doubt my words?” The high priest of Sais spoke to Arbephest, who paced back and forth across the granite floor confused and frustrated. “Our scouts have reported villages in the eastern most regions of Libya falling to humans unlike any who reside within the Pillars. They say their numbers were overwhelming.” The Egyptian’s accent was strange, still, he spoke the Hellenic tongue with masterful fluency.
“How is it that these people have just become known to us, priest?” The warlord gazed back and forth between his guests through rampant eyes, noticing on a number of occasions the emissary’s young assistant staring at his wife uncontrollably. He did not notice or expect his own guard captain to be partaking in much the same pleasure, Theleos was cunning in his actions.
“It is likely they have just discovered the skill of boat crafting from the trees which they crawled down from, warlord. Men who live without roofs above their heads, running into battle wielding clubs. They are nothing but savages who are flooding from their overcrowded territories and know nothing better than the primitive acts of war.”
“Watch your words, priest, my nation is prided upon its abilities in war.” He glared once more at the young dark skinned assistant, “do you wish to lay with my wife, boy? Perhaps she would like an Egyptian inside her womb!” The male could not understand Arbephest’s words though he evidently understood his anger, he looked shamefully down at the floor away from the little skin Anna displayed.
The first lady of Rhoma looked over slowly at Arbephest, as the deep hazel beauty of her enormous capturing eyes pierced him he felt a sudden moment of shame himself for the words he had uttered. For some time he felt her stare resting upon him, he did not maintain eye contact however, “if he were capable then it would prove him to be more of a man than you.” With those scolding words she turned quietly away and retired into the fire lit house.
Somewhat flustered by the awkward exchange, Tuth went on. “I am not here to dispute your nation’s power, Arbephest, I am merely a messenger, our armies must be prepared if we are to avoid being caught off guard. If the Athenians should fall –”
“Then the free world will be no longer, some free world that is, one that requires an overseer to keep it free. Since the dawns of our time we Athenians have succeeded in war where all those around us failed, Tuth, Greece will not fall.” The high priest nodded his head respectfully. Arbephest turned his back on his guests and stared out into the darkness beyond the granite paving. Tuth went on as the warlord fell silent. He spoke this time in a whisper.
“Apep constricts Egypt with each passing sunset, warlord, he dismisses these warnings and refuses to have our army investigate the rumours. You Athenians may be the only hope we living have.” The priest sighed deeply through heavy breaths before his voice returned. “Our scouts say these, raids, were committed by men in their thousands, mere villages, swarmed, leaderless barbarians that flock to our shores in such great numbers that they could not be combated. I pray Athena gives us strength in these times of darkness.” Arbephest appeared in deep thought as the priest spoke. “Some whisper they are children of the brothers and sisters of our creators, those that were cast out when the world was young. They have come back to claim what they believe to be theirs, by bringing war to our shores.”
“Let them try, we are the sons of Hephaestus, we are war, no travellers from beyond the Pillars could possibly rival us, men from the trees. Pah!”
“They have already come from beyond the Pillars, Arbephest, the haste of their advance is unknown. There is much we must discuss though the night is late, it should benefit us all when we are joined by king Peremes and warlord Arbicos.” King, at the sound of his name Arbephest had an immediate desire to spit upon the ground, though he knew better, he breathed heavily nodding his head to acknowledge the high priest. Tuth was to be escorted to Athenia at first light to discuss the grave matter and give formal warning to the king of the Athenians.
“Very well, Theleos escort these men to their sleeping quarters within the temple, ensure a watch is kept over them throughout the night.” He looked at his trusted guard captain who met his glance with a nod. The warlord himself nodded repeatedly at the captain, appearing to confirm something of great value to himself in secret.
Nothing more was said between the men, Tuth was escorted from the stone building with his assistant and Arbephest watched them disappear into the night, his battle worn face hiding the anxiety that gripped him. His skin told a history of violence that could trace back fifteen harvests of Athenian victories at war. His face and muscular body bared the scars of an un-recollectable number of combat wounds. Most distinctly two that bore deep into his face. The first, his split upper lip, a scar lead from the right side of it up to his nose. The other began just below the bottom of his right eye running inches up onto his forehead.
His hair was black, alike to most Hellenes, though even upon his head blade wounds revealed bare skin marks where the hair had failed to grow back over the scar tissue. He allowed a layer of stubble to cover his aging features, for vanity, and hatred of what the lapse of time had done to him.
In harvests past Arbephest’s distinct face had been very different, he had a hugely broad chin and deep brown eyes, between them resting the perked nose of a once handsome man desired by any woman upon whom he rested his wild gaze. Not long past his thirtieth harvest, the endless erosion of war upon his body had taken its toll. His resilience to death was unbelievable, not another warrior upon the earth stood with so many scars upon him, each one a tale of war and victory. He had seen more combat than any number of men could gather and share stories of.
Turning to retreat inside his home Arbephest extinguished the firelight making his way through the simple stone house, into his resting chamber. Inside the dimly lit room he removed the belt of his makers and soldier garbs, resting upon the bed where his beautiful wife already lay. Raising the linen sheets to warm himself he looked over Anna’s naked body, he watched the dark peaks of her perfectly matured breasts rise and fall with each inhale and exhale of her slow quiet breathing. She whimpered quietly at the disturbance as he slid over the surface to embrace her. Arbephest kissed her lightly upon the cheek and slowly slid his hand across her leg to caress her inner thigh, though as he did she turned away.
Accustomed to this behaviour the warlord sighed heavily and rested upon his back looking up at the grey stone of his home. The flickers of firelight caused all kinds of peculiar shadows to race across the ceiling preventing the tormenting thoughts of what Tuth had said from fleeing his mind.
Giving in to the images he thought deeply about the possibility of Greece being overcome by an army that was grander in scale than his imagination could even attempt to envisage. Tuth’s words remained upon his thoughts constantly causing him to toss and turn. With no relief, the warlord upped from his bed and made haste down amongst the houses of Rhoma.
The streets of his home were similar to that of any town found upon Hellenic territory, simple clay houses and firm street ways made for easily accessible routes about town. Rhoma was completely surrounded by towering wooden blockades cut into pikes, though the aged settlement had never come under siege and its walls were all but derelict with little urgency to see them reconstructed. Rhoma was the closest town to the northern shores of Greece, his army was first protocol to defend the country against invaders from the ocean, however the Hellenes, along with the Egyptians, controlled the waters within t
he Pillars and no such invasion had ever occurred.
The warlord was greeted by each guard he paced past in a most respectful manner. It was a peaceful night and the stars shone bright high above to which he paid no heed. The veteran walked amongst the streets of his home for much time, simply taking in the air, attempting to be rid of the thoughts Tuth had put into his mind. A mild smell of horse manure and hay hung on the air as it often did in the warmer months of the year. He thought about his brothers in arms and wondered how his country faired in Arillia. The battle was likely over by now, still he imagined his kinsmen upon the field of battle upholding the virtues of Greece. It brought some comfort to his heart and calmed him.
He took a detour through Rhoma towards his parent’s house. His father, Phesten, often remained awake deep into the early hours and his company during this moment of trouble was dearly sought after by the battle scarred warrior.
Up a small walkway that lead away from Rhoma’s stable the house rested. It stood alone near the very heart of the town. As Arbephest made his way around the structure’s clay walls he realised that no firelight burned behind the reed doorway. His parents were asleep. For some time he rested against the sturdy walls of the abode lost in daydream. Each time he cleared his mind of the troubles of Tuth they simply fell to that of his wife’s disdain towards him, when the latter too was cleared however it returned to the former.
Little caused turmoil to the man’s nerve, he was rarely affected by emotion and any moment he was quickly passed. All be it lightly relieved of his thoughts, Arbephest made his way back up the granite walkway towards his abode. Laying down he thought upon some questions he wished to ask the high priest. Why had the Athenians not heard anything of this power until now? And to what extent did the Egyptians have knowledge of this expansion? After a short duration his conscience faded to darkness as sleep overcame him, momentarily.