An Angel Called Eternity

To Bet On Losing Dogs - Lykourgos IV: The Trumpets Sound Once More

Lykourgos IV: The Trumpets Sound Once More

The Eighteenth Day of the Third Moon, 873 AD.
Anaria, Western Teleytaios, Klironomea.

He looked at the map on his table with a grimace, moving the little pieces around in accordance with the latest intelligence he'd received. There was no-one else in the room at the moment, for he wished to be left alone after his 'altercation' with the Grandmaster, but he knew he couldn't afford to put this off any longer. War was here, whether he wished to be friendly with his commanders or not. There was nothing left to do but summon them to him and tell them of his next move.

The only trouble was... what was his next move? He couldn't very well pull the lowborn back from their fields so soon after disbanding, for not only would that be detrimental to yet another harvest but it would also result in a sharp spike in unrest amongst the rural poor. That led him to his second issue, however; the forces of house Blackoak, though delayed in their advance thanks to the death of their commander courtesy of Eli, were nonetheless soon to cross the border. Not just soon, but very soon. He would be very surprised if the enemy was not encamped in the ruins of Ousdaal this time next week.

He brooded a little as he consulted the list of numbers next to him for the umpteenth time that day. He hadn't truly needed to look at them for hours now, since they were all burned into his mind, but it didn't hurt to check again. He could count on some ten-thousand professional soldiers loyal to the crown, since those knights and armsmen who had fallen in the succession crisis had more or less been replaced by those squires knighted for bravery in battle and veteran levies hoping to make a career of soldiery respectively, and so his own forces weren't too bad in terms of numbers, but they were still facing seventeen-thousand men, two thousand of which were professionals and eight-thousand semi-professional. If he could scrape together just a few thousand more men he would be able to sway things to his side, especially if Lord Aertax or whoever was now in command of the Blackoak forces ordered their forces split.

He felt his lips curl into a snarl as he read Isen's name on the paper. Angels damn the man to the lowliest hell that existed! He'd not be making the mistake of trusting anyone to be alone around him again, save a very select few people.

He wasn't even sure if his closest friends were on that list at the moment.

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He was being overly-dramatic. Romanos had said some very hurtful things, yes, but it was all in response to a miscommunication and an argument that had gotten out of hand. He'd make up with the man and forgive him, eventually. Probably.

He forced out an exhale and steadied his mind again. He would forgive Romanos, and he would do it soon. He couldn't afford to think otherwise.

"A one-man council of war then, little prince?"

Lykourgos looked up in surprise, the dark room previously lit only by tallow candles now seeming somehow brighter as the newcomer walked in.

"You."

The man smirked in amusement.
"Indeed, it is me. I thought you'd have sought me out by now, given our... previous interactions."

Lykourgos glared a little at the strange man.
"I'm uncertain if you've noticed, but I've been really rather busy these last few weeks. I was rather excited to speak with you and ask you some questions back when you were first uncovered and then again when the Seer woke you up, but I have other duties to see to now; there's nothing that could justify me spending my days with a man who hasn't even deigned to tell me his name yet."