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Arbephest hoped his king would grant him utility of the Athenian army upon hearing the news that was likely already spreading across Greece like wildfire. He avoided built up areas of dense vegetation once past the confounds of Rhoma for he was all too familiar of the dangers that lurked amidst the flora of the Hellenic countryside.
The golden palomino had been his first mount, born and bred within the stable of Rhoma. He recalled watching her mother bring life into the world in an eruption of blood and snorted neighing. A strange pleasure he had taken in watching that moment as he stood with Anna, newlywed, their excitement so young and passionate. Arbephest named the mare after her, though merely to tease at the time, his bond had grown so strong with the horse that riding her was one of the few activities he found pleasurable in these most recent harvests. Annabelle had become a symbol of his wife to the veteran, an imaginary link that no matter how distanced his love became he would have this animal to bring back thoughts of better times.
The ten mile journey to Athenia took Anabelle a little less than an hour of steady cantering, she breathed deeply as Arbephest urged her onwards though she had much strength left in her yet. The time had passed hastily without trouble whilst the warlord continued to turn over the words of Tuth in his thoughts. He had no doubt his king would grant him permission to prepare his country for war, he lusted for it, he had not seen action in some months and frustration above all else consumed him.
Approaching the heavily fortified gates Arbephest stroked a hand through the mare’s silvery yellow mane and patted her heavily upon her powerful neck. Easy girl, he whispered to her softly, with the same loving tone he had once so often took pleasure in expressing to his wife.
Athenia was built upon risen grounds, it was enclosed by a vast wooden wall fortified three levels thick all about its premises. There was one route in and one out. The town’s entry gates were guarded by ten Athenian soldiers, why such numbers were necessary was unknown, the most southern stretches of Athenian territory had not been invaded in over a hundred harvests. The king of the Hellenes was a bizarre individual, one whom Arbephest gave no regard to, however for the pride he held over his country he abided by its ancient codes without question.
King Peremes took no place in war, in times past however legends had been passed down by word of mouth about the kings of the Athenians. The warlord revelled in these stories of the ancient kings of Greece, said to have once lead the Hellenes alongside the warlords as equals in war. Three commanders, against armies far more volatile than anything known in recent times.
Athenia bared little difference to Rhoma, bar the walls of Athenia constantly being reinforced and aging woodwork replaced, the lay out itself was near identical. Rows of clay housing, large simple passageways separating them, and a small number of stone buildings.
Arbephest trotted Annabelle slowly through his capital nodding at various people whom recognised him. Approaching the barrier entrance of his king’s fort Arbephest dismounted, he did not tie Annabelle’s reign, he knew she would wait for his return. The troops at the gates of Peremes’ domain each stood to attention as Arbephest walked amongst them giving a slight nod of acknowledgement.
The fort was constructed upon a solid base of granite, three feet thick. The walls of the construct were made partly of clay, partly of wood and partly of stone, they had been merged together to strengthen the fortifications. It had always been a structure that struck Arbephest as impressive. The story of its creation had been in his ears since he was a child, when the strongholds of the Athenian armies were built, many hundreds of harvests back in time.
As Arbephest stepped into the fort entrance a cool breeze hit him relieving his body from the humidity of the day. He was escorted by a single male through the wooden clay interior, through a passageway that opened out into king Peremes’ throne room.
There he sat, with his timid chin resting upon a closed childlike fist. He was a small man, his build unimpressive. His hair was black and his face oily. His features threw a look of adolescence upon his face that gave Arbephest an overwhelming lust to strike him merely at the sight. The king had always appeared weary and fidgety when in the presence of a warlord, as if he was conscious of their greatness, of their qualities he was aware he lacked himself.
“Arbephest? What brings you here? I am yet to hear word from Arillia, I will be sure to pass on notice if I do.”
“My king, I come to speak of a grave matter.” His dark rampant spheres locked onto the flustering male, a glare that time had only made more menacing for the wounds that scored his face.
“Speak.” The king said making a wilted hand gesture, his light voice matched his unimposing frame.
“Last night I was visited by the Egyptian high priest, Tuth, who spoke to me of a matter that requires immediate attention. We were to ride to Athenia this dawn to discuss the knowledge he held, however the priest has since been murdered within the temple of Rhoma.” The king’s eyes lit up, he burst to life and pulled a face to yell but his voice was restrained to a high pitch, most likely by fear.
“What? You allowed the death of an Egyptian high priest in my territory? What will the Egyptians think of us? Allowing a priest? - A priest! To be slain within our residence?” The king squawked, flustering, his cheeks turned rosy red.
If Arbephest knew anything about Peremes, it was that he strived to make his country appear perfect when in the presence of other leaders, anything that might disgrace it was most unacceptable, even though he had done nothing to attain its glory.
“My king, there is more at stake than our reputation with the Egyptians. The high priest spoke of a nation, a nation with a vast army, that have come from beyond the Pillars of Heracles.”
“People come from beyond the Pillars of Heracles… and what of it?” Why did I mention his death? Still, I’m surprised he doesn’t already know.
“The priest spoke of a race that have began spreading across Libya, possibly Europa, they are enslaving the lands we Hellenes have fought to keep free. People speak in Rhoma of a vessel that flew through the air when Tuth was slain.” Aloud the words truly sounded ridiculous.
“The air… Arbephest, what are such tales you are telling me?”
“This is no joke, my king. If the priest’s words are true then we must assemble the Athenian army, all of Europa is in danger of these people, we can’t take chances.”
“And you truly believe that an army from the sky is descending upon all of Europa and Libya, Arbephest? You must be crazy to believe such stories.” The king’s dismissive attitude only angered the warlord.
“Athenian troops must be assembled, allow me command of them, we must at least patrol the coasts of Greece. If they’re landing upon the shores of our neighbours to the east then that is where we must march.”
“You think I’d let you take the entire Athenian army for a march along the coasts of Europa because you’ve heard stories of people that come from the sky, Arbephest? You have allowed the death of an Egyptian Priest in Rhoma! That is more important to me than rumours of an army that comes from the sky.”
“My king,” the warlord stopped to choose his words, he imagined ripping the male’s head from his body before speaking in a calmed tone. “The Egyptians are regarded for their knowledge upon all things in our world. Why would such a story be made up by someone so highly regarded?”
“I don’t know, Arbephest why would someone so highly regarded make up a story that would grant them the power of the entire Athenian army?” He believes I wish to march on Greece? The very hint of his words fuelled Arbephest’s hatred of the man, a sudden fury erupted within the battle scarred veteran, his burning gaze alone was enough to cause Peremes to quiver, though the warlord kept his composure.
“Let us assume the high priest spoke the truth, we could be on the dawn of a large scale war that cannot simply be ignored!” Raising his voice, Arbephest stared at Peremes who struggled to maintain eye contact for any long p
eriods, sweat beads began to appear on his red forehead. After a few moments fidgeting the king at last spoke up, his voice hollow and uneasy.
“You may take every sixth man of Rhoma’s army on an expedition along the northern shores of Greece,” five hundred men, “and if there are any signs of these things you describe to me then I’ll grant you and warlord Arbicos full command over all the armies of the Hellenes. Have a messenger sent immediately to inform Apep of your mistakes, ignore me Arbephest and you shall be exiled! Heleon, escort him from my domain. That will be all.” The king clapped his hands limply and again rested his chin on a trembling fist. Arbephest stared at him for a short while longer, his anger seethed as he turned to leave.
He knew little else of what to do, it was early in the day, exiting Peremes’ fort he walked quickly back to Annabelle, she snorted lightly at the sight of him and he stroked her with a heavy hand down her neck before grasping at the leather straps to heave himself up onto the saddle. His next destination was Cele, go, he whispered lightly, and once more the great golden palomino burst to life, her powerful legs erupting the sound of clattering hooves into the quiet streets of Athenia.
The warlord hoped his brother in arms might have returned from Arillia by this sun. He knew not where else to turn for in the death of Tuth all the answers of this most abrupt dilemma dissipated, and one lone thought troubled his mind above all else. What if the priest’s words had been true? What if a nation of unfathomable power was coming from beyond the Pillars? His king’s dismissal fuelled his anger. He whipped lightly on the palomino’s reigns urging her onwards towards Cele.