The background characters may not be of utter importance but if you want to refresh your memories a little, please check here. Some of them will be around more often - the world Penny and her tribe members live in is secluded and small 😅 “It must have been the caravan’s guards. The attackers came from the trade route.” Faidra pointed at the hoof prints of several horses that had crossed the entire thieves’ camp. “Around fifty people in total, I'd guess. The confrontation must have taken place in the early morning. He hasn't been lying here for long.” Hippolyta bit her lip. “Dareios must have hired some mercenaries after the raid attempts last summer.” She looked around. Her companions were watching the body closely, still swinging their now useless weapons in their hands. Charon had been keeping the same relaxed posture since they had arrived. Leo of Burton shifted from one leg to the other. Cass stared at the ground. Never before had people died in the attacks. Of course, injuries had occurred and occasionally, they had taken prisoners. The prisoners had been sold into slavery to make up for the losses they had caused. Alexander had declared the rest of the raiders outlawed. However, they had stayed in the mountains, avoiding the tribes' settlements. No one was content with that, but everyone could tolerate it. This time… it was different. Sweat ran down Hippolyta's back despite the rather cool morning. The air became heavier the longer they stayed in the deserted camp. Masa, Alexander’s bodyguard, broke the silence. “I’m certain that we cannot be of any more use to him.” He nodded in the body’s direction. “So, what should we do now, princess Hippolyta?” Lyta closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “We will send someone to bury them later. Let’s get the horses. We’re going to ask Dareios if he knows anything about this incident. If it was indeed the caravan’s guard, he must be able to provide us with more information.” Since the caravan seemed to have arrived at the market only shortly ago, the princess knew where to head. Dareios would be claiming his usual spot. It was easy to find him. His flamboyant skirt outshone all the dull colors of the old market. The merchant turned around at the sound of so many feet and the clattering of metal. His eyes lit at her sight. “Aaah, the daughter of my very best customer and trading partner! Welcome, welcome, luck and health to you!” “Yes, yes, luck and health to you as well.” Lyta gestured the young man to follow her inside the small courtyard but stopped Faidra and Masa who were trying to come after them. “Stay outside, I’ll handle this alone.” Faidra was clearly not amused but the two warriors took up their posts in front of the yard. Dareios clapped and a slave who had already waited stepped up. “May I offer you a cup of spiced wine? An exquisite vintage, with a fine taste. An import from my very own home island, Porphyreia.” “No wine, just answers.” “Answers?” He indicated the slave to leave. “Most revered lady, I hope this is not about the goods your father acquired last summer? If there has been anything wrong with them, sickness or injury, I will gladly compensate him. After all, I pride myself to sell only the best slaves this side of the sea.” “I doubt that.” With a sigh, Lyta strolled toward the seat. It had been set up as a resting place for the merchant at times when no customer would find their way to the stall. “Last I heard of him, he was not unhappy with his latest purchase. Although you would have to ask him yourself. No, I am just worried about the security of this area. Say, during your way here, have you noticed any signs of raiders preparing for an attack on your caravan?” “Indeed, our mercenaries’ scout has repeatedly discovered traces of armed groups during our arduous travel.” Lyta frowned. “You didn’t have mercenaries the last time you came by.” “Ah, yes, how very attentive you are. Naturally, you also remember the two cartloads of goods my fellow tradesmen lost to the ambushes. I myself was only spared because driving stolen slaves away would have slowed the thieves down too much. So- when the opportunity for additional protection presented itself so willingly, I could not help but grasp it. Commander Teukros and his men sought work, and I had found the answer to a question I had not even asked yet.” “You know well enough that you could have protection for free. Alexander sent us to gather informations on the raiders’ activities. If need be, we can always scatter them by a surprise attack.” “A surprise attack? Please pardon my bluntness if you most graciously would, but are the men I saw the entire troop? You would not have stood a chance.” “Oh, I know. We were but the scouting party.” That was a blatant lie. Still, it was better than Dareios figuring out that they had, in fact, been the entire fighting party. “So, how many were they?” “More than last time, although I am not the best person to assess the situation. I merely know but a few details from commander Teukros’ report. Maybe you will be pleased to hear his evaluation.” He gestured toward the entrance, to her warriors. Lyta leant forward. “Faidra, Masa, if there's a man named Teukros out there, let him pass!” A few moments later, Faidra’s red thatch appeared behind the walls. “He’s armed!” “My lady, if you allow- I can help with that.” Dareios strode toward the entrance. “Ah, my most valiant commander, what a pleasure to see you back! We have a high-ranking visitor and avid admirer of your military expertise. She requires-” Lyta groaned. “Oh goddess, give me patience with that man...” At least his persuasion seemed to work. A little while later, a black-haired man appeared. The princess examined him closely while he stood still before her. “You must be that Teukros, leader of the mercenaries. I hope you are not a talkative Porphyreian with little self-discipline as well.” The man seemed to return the examination. When he opened the mouth to speak, he did so fluently but with a heavy, harsh accent. “I am Teukros, leader of the mercenaries that accompany the merchant Dareios. I am not his countryman, I am Tìreach.” “Tìreach? Where is that?” “It is not a place, although my homeland lies further to the west. In my tongue, Tìreach* means-” He struggled for the right words. “So- you’re a Westerner.” That explained the strange legwear. She had seen Westerners before: traders, slaves, not least Haimon, but… none of their warriors yet. All of a sudden, something in Teukros' bright eyes seemed to fade. “Some people of your lands call us that.” “Tell me, the robbers in the mountains. Was it your mercenaries that routed them out?” “Our scout discovered their traces. They gathered for an attack. We struck before they were ready. Less enemies, less casualties.” “Basic strategy.” “Yes, basic strategy.” “How many were there? And how many are you?” “Jove saw around 30. My own group are 26 men.” Thirty! That was almost twice the size of the groups they had encountered the last summers. So far, they had always kept to themselves. It had been nothing more but small bands targeting the slowest carts of the caravan. They had burst forth from bushes and rocks, grabbing whatever they could carry before they had vanished into the wilderness of the mountains. It hadn’t been dangerous for the traders but sure enough troublesome. Since Dareios had first arrived, no summer had passed without complaints from caravan members and demands of compensation. Thirty thieves on one spot. That also meant that small patrols would indeed no longer be enough to keep them at bay. A group of ten, maybe fifteen people would flee when suddenly confronted by an equal amount of more experienced warriors. Thirty, on the other hand... They might believe to have good chances and actually stand their ground. The patrols would have to be larger, making it harder to cover the entire area of the trade route. They would have to muster more men and leave the tribes without sufficient protection. Who would guarantee the villages' safety if the warriors were out in the mountains? Lyta rubbed her forehead. There was a lot to be discussed with Alexander. “26 against 30? Are there any dead on your side, any injured ones?” Teukros shook his head. “No dead. Few injuries. They didn’t expect us and ran off.” “Do you have horses? Archers? How good are your men?” “Experienced fighters, all of them. Twelve horses. Some archers, most of them capable to switch weapons to close-range fight.” Teukros' gaze sought hers. “Are we in trouble for fulfilling our duty? We came here to protect, not to cause a stir.” Hippolyta crossed her arms. “It isn't my duty to decide that. I just want to get to know your group. What will you be doing while the merchants sell their goods? Where will you stay?” “We plan to ask around for work. Maybe someone can use one more weapon or just a strong arm. We're not only fighters, we can also help with farm work or herding cattle.” He stretched out one arm. “You seem to hold some power. Where can I ask for permission to set up a camp while we’re here?” “I can lead you to the highest king of these lands if you wish. I enjoy the trust to come and go in his palace as I please.” Lyta was pretty sure that Alexander wouldn’t welcome strangers to meddle with his affairs but he would also want to see them. To make sure they wouldn’t be a threat. The commander hinted a bow of his head. “That is good. I don’t want to act against his will.” “Great!” Hippolyta propped herself up and rose. “Let’s go, then. My warriors will be our escort. We need to return and report to the high king anyway.” With that, she strode past him and stepped outside of the yard. “Faidra, Cassiopeia, Masaru, we’re going to Arythion with-” The rest of the sentence got stuck in her throat. Two more armed men, probably part of the mercenaries, were waiting in front of the local warriors. That very moment, they turned their heads toward the newcomer. One of them… She was staring at a brown-haired, youthful version of a well-known face. And the face looked back, evidently confused by her fierce reaction. “My lady?,” Masa asked. “Is everything alright?” Lyta shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Yes, everything is alright. I just remembered one more thing I need to do before setting out to Arythion. Faidra, step aside with me for a moment.” The warrior followed her without question. When she closed up, she inquired: “What is it? Shall I take these men into custody, my princess?” Lyta kept her voice hushed. “No need to do that. I'd rather you got your horse. Go to my mother as fast as you can and tell her to ride to Arythion. There’s someone here she needs to see. It’s urgent. If she arrives before we do, she can just wait. I’ll bring him right to her if she stays in close proximity of Alexander.” “Tell her- oooh, Goddess! I don't know, tell her I have everything under control. She doesn't have to worry, she should just come to see for herself.” Faidra bowed her head. “Understood.” Lyta watched her leave. Thoughts spun around in her head when she returned to her other warriors and the three strangers. “We’re going to the high king. Commander Teukros wants to ask for permission to camp here. This one,” she pointed at the brown-haired Westerner, “is also coming with us. Take their weapons but treat them respectfully. They’re not enemies.” Not yet. She was almost sure that as soon as her mother laid eye upon the young man, Penthesilea would not rest until she had removed him somehow. * Tìreach: The official translation is simply "countryman" and describes the Westerners. For them, that term means much more though. It's a way to distance themselves from the surrounding, rather unfriendly people. They would rather think of it as "fellow child of this country" This chapter has extra screenshots in the gallery
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May 2023
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