Rhema I: Moss, Stone, and Blood

The Thirty-First Day of the Third Moon, 874 AD.

Faeford, Eastern Teleytaios, Klironomea.

Fucking finally.

It felt as though it had been far too long since he'd last been on the march. He'd come to quite enjoy life within a military encampment, what with the somewhat predictable and yet entertaining nature of each day. It also provided him with a good example to apply that which he had learned about armies on campaign in recent times and, hopefully, continue learning so as to become a better commander of men in service to his brother.

He had promised Lyk that he would be a reliable and dependable right hand should he only be asked to step into that position. He might still have had some ways to go where other subjects were concerned, but at the very least he could assist his brother in matters of war just as he had promised.

He intended to keep that promise, even if it ground him down into nothing more than a husk wearing a suit of armour with axe and blade in hand. He would not let Lyk down.

The last week or two they had been camped somewhere on the Riverroad just short of the border-regions between Nordicos and Teleytaios, a few miles behind any overlapping areas of influence to ensure that they were solidly within Teleytaian territory whilst they had waited for the Grand Duke to some and join with their forces. The man had been promised the vanguard after all, and as a result the war could not have begun until the man himself arrived.

He'd ridden pretty far from the camp some days, Seventh in tow. Well, really it was more like Seventh was riding out with him in tow; they were camped only a few miles from the southernmost trees that made up the Farwald, an area Rhema actually knew would hold some interest to his friend due to conversations he'd had with Lyk in the past about the ruins and strange runes in the area. That sort of thing was far more his brother's area of expertise, or at least it had been before he'd thrown himself into forging a new order out of the chaos that had defined the continent for so long. Nowadays his brother didn't seem to have the time for that sort of thing, or at least not like he used to.

Still, being camped so close to the Farwald had meant that Seventh had wanted to 'feel their energies', whatever it was that such a thing really meant, and Rhema had been more than happy to accompany them as they did so.

Seventh was... growing, he supposed was the right word. It wasn't just that they were learning more about their powers and abilities, but that they were feeling more confident in their use as well. Rhema had no intentions of claiming he knew a surefire way to quantify just how much their friend had learned, but just from what he had seen and experienced he knew that they had expanded not only the power of their magics but also the control which they exerted over them.

They wore their blindfold less now. Still most of the time, sure, but they were no longer deathly afraid of being caught without a piece of cloth tied around their eyes. It was a marked improvement in their confidence, and Rhema for one was most pleased to see such a change.

A side-effect of this growth was that, for one reason or another, it was seemingly impossible to get Seventh to stay away from 'wild' places for more than a week at a time. That's why the two of them were here now, actually.

"You know," he started, "despite everything that's happened, I'm glad we're back on the march again."

Seventh turned in the saddle of their palfrey, a young thing with a jet coat that Rhema understood to be something akin to a 'gift' from his brother to the seer. Well, as close to a gift as he thought Lykourgos was going to give a magical creature he barely understood anyway.

"What, felt too caged in when we were back at the palace did you?"

Rhema snorted a little. That wasn't what he had meant, though it was certainly true. He knew Seventh had felt the same way as well, after the first month or so that was.

"No, no. Well, a little bit. No, I'm glad 'cause it means the two of us get to spend plenty of time together without your mentor and my courtly duties getting in the way. Out here we get to be freer than we are back there."

Seventh smiled a little at them, seemed to think about something, then pushed their palfrey onwards a little more. It looked like a damn fine horse in all honesty, which made it all the more surprising that his brother had given it to Seventh; the seer wasn't exactly renowned for riding much. Still, a swift breed such as that definitely suited Seventh more than some massive warhorse like the one Grandmaster Romanos sat astride; the knight's horse was so tall that it would surely have dwarfed the one Seventh was riding twice over!

He pushed his own destrier into a trot and made to catch up with his friend.

"So what is it we're trying to find here? There's usually something you want to see on one of these trips, and I know from my brother that there's more than a few ruins scattered around the Farwald and the foothills of the southern Archic mountains."

Seventh flashed him a toothy grin.

"You're right! There's an old fort somewhere out here, built from unmortared stone and held together only by the thick ivy and moss that has grown all over it. Well, according to my mentor anyway."

That last part was said with a little bit of what almost tasted like venom from the young seer's lips, and Rhema stifled a smile at his friend's expense.

"Still giving you shit, is he?"

Seventh just nodded.

"Ever and always. I don't know how he hasn't gotten tired of being such a miserable old so-and-so yet, but I truly do wish he'd stop."

Rhema sucked in an exaggerated breath through his teeth.

"Didn't you use to refer to him as your 'god'? I'm not trying to pry or anything, I'm just curious how someone could see their god in the flesh and blaspheme."

That got a little chuckle out of Seventh.

"I seem to recall you making a few comments about him, and he's the patron Angel of your homeland unless I'm mistaken. You're hardly free from guilt on that front."

Rhema made to chime in, probably just with a "touché", but all of a sudden Seventh's tone changed as they continued. Their voice was a little quieter, a little more forceful, a little less as though he were there in the moment.

"And he is still my god. For all his flaws and failings, for all I may deny it to his face, he is still my god. My lord, my king, and my god. I cannot change that, for he needs my worship. More than he realises, I think. He's been through a lot, and will only go through more as the years roll on by. He will need someone like me looking up to him, if for no other reason than to make sure he keeps holding himself to the standards he claims 'our kind' should live up to."

Rhema coughed awkwardly, then asked a question that had been on his mind for a little while now.

"Do you, uh... do you sometimes still look into the future? Behind your mentor's back, I mean?"

The way that Seventh turned slightly in the saddle and remained quiet told rhema all he needed to know.

"Neat. We haven't performed a scrying in a while, Sev. You fancy doing one of those soon? You know, given that you seem to want to stick it to your master a little at the moment?"

They smiled at him again, and Angels but it was a lovely sight.

"I think I might be down for that, yeah. Beats communing with him on an evening anyhow."

They said the word 'him' with enough emphasis that it was very clear who they were talking about, even if no name was uttered.

"Personal feelings about him aside, and the fact that we're gonna scry again soon aside, I will confess that he has spoken on a topic I have been worried about for some time recently. He did... he did give me some advice. Relating to your brother, I mean."

Rhema raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Seventh just nodded in response.

"He said that your brother's heart would be in the right place, but his mind will always win out. That if he feels my abilities might give him the advantage over his foes then he will push and push and push until he gets what he wants from me.

"My mentor told me that he'd push me too far and I'd grow more than a little displeased with him, not that I'd act against him of course!"

That last part was tacked on a little hastily, as though Seventh had just remembered that this was still Rhema's brother they were talking about.

"But you of all people understand how much these things can... well, affect me. It's rarely clean or nice to see when it goes wrong, and I don't like the idea of being used for those abilities and nothing else. I don't want to just be a tool in someone's hand, you understand?"

Rhema nodded, but he didn't understand, not really. How could he, when he was actively trying to mould himself into the perfect tool for his brother to use at a whim? There was a part of him that struggled to fathom anyone wishing not to be used as a tool by Lykourgos, but he knew such a part of him was even more blinded than the rest in matters such as this.

At the end of the day Seventh was in control of their own will, their own body, and their own abilities. No-one with a power and a heart so grand as Seventh's should be able to be forced to act if they did not want to.

"I can talk to him, if you like. My brother, I mean."

Seventh grimaced a little.

"The offer is kind, but I fear all you'd do is put the idea in his head that he might be able to get something out of my visions. If it's all the same I'd rather just... well, I'd rather have them when you're around so you can relay them to him. At least then there's no pushing or... or pressure, on me."

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He nodded at his friend. They were probably right, in all honesty. They usually were. Still, if this came about naturally anyway and his brother overstepped then he would step in to talk it over with him. Lyk would mean well, he always did, and apparently Seventh's mentor thought the same thing, but when he had his mind set on something he always saw it through to the end, for better or worse.

If nothing else then it was definitely something to consider whilst they looked for this strange fortification in the woods out here.

"Sorry for dragging you out here, by the way. I think people assume you're just my bodyguard at this point."

He huffed out a laugh in response. How could that possibly be a bad thing, to be the guardian of an angel?

"Nah, I'm happy with this sort of thing. You need to remember that I spent most of the last few years down at Castelos, meaning that all I saw were the Brokowa mountains and then a shitload of flatlands behind them. Trust me, I'd much rather be able to look around somewhere like this than somewhere as dull as that."

Seventh pulled a bit of a face at that.

"That was still strange to see, in all honesty. The lands behind the Brokowa Heights being flatlands, I mean."

"How so?" He inquired, genuinely curious.

"Well," his friend replied, "when I was born it was still a part of the Greatwald, the forest that now covers most of Owkrestos and western Triarios. It used to extend out far further than that, all the way to the coast where Brycgestow is today."

Rhema blinked a few times in surprise. He'd never known that.

"Its easy to forget that you've lived a lot longer than me. When was it cut back? I assume it was done by the early petty kings after the Year of Desolation, or else by one of the first Teleytaian kings in order to deny cover to any enemy forces in the region. That and to free up more land for farming as well as giving them a whole lot of timber to sell for a relatively quick profit."

Seventh nodded.

"I assume that's the reason for it, yeah, and if that's the case then I'd guess we're talking somewhere around the second or third centuries? The forth at a stretch. Regardless, a few hundred years ago but far after I'd fallen into my long sleep. Speaking of which, whilst I may have 'lived' a lot longer than you, it's important to remember that not only do I not age the same way you do, but that I also was unconscious for most of that time. In reality I've only been awake and not a baby in the cradle for around the same time you have."

Rhema sighed with more than a slight hint of amusement in his voice.

"I'm not sure that makes the slightest hint of sense whatsoever, Sev. Still, I'll take your word for it. Anyway, just trust me when I say I'd rather be somewhere like this than somewhere like the Brokowa heights. I don't like mountains."

His friend laughed.

"Well, unfortunately you'll be seeing a lot of them soon; Nordicos isn't exactly known for its forests or flats, after all."

"Oh joy of joys. What fun."

----------------------------------------

He entered his brother's tent to find him already deep in conversation with the Grand Duke, though it seemed less like a conversation and more like Lykourgos was arguing with himself whilst the Grand Duke watched on with a mildly amused and more than a little bemused countenance.

"-but he's not that stupid! Whether or not I respect the man, whether or not he is a good person, his primary concerns will be the same as mine! They will be the same as any in our positions of power, anywhere in the world: keep your neighbours in check, your subjects loyal, and your coffers full. Even someone as headstrong and foolhardy as him can understand that, surely?"

The Grand Duke bowed to Rhema as he turned and saw him, which Rhema returned with perhaps a little less sincerity than was customary. His brother turned, saw he was there, and sighed with what was almost relief.

"Thank the Angels, it's you. Brother, please tell me I've not gone mad. Tell me this is definitely too good to be true?"

Rhema glanced at the Grand Duke, then looked back to his brother. The older man still looked amused, though perhaps less confused than he had before.

"Okay," he started, "I'll bite. What the hell has happened that's got you worked up like this?"

His brother wiped a hand on his own face, using the other to gesture to the Grand Duke.

"Tell him. I feel like I'm going mad."

He turned to the Grand Duke and waited for the response.

"Your Grace," Thrytas started, "you are aware of the concerns we held that the remaining kingdoms of the Heptarchy might form some form of alliance, league, or coalition, in order to attempt to defeat this, I beg your pardon, your brother's realm?"

He nodded. Though diplomacy bored him a great deal he had tried to take in as much as he could from his brother and those around him, so as to keep up to date on happenings and be of more use in that field.

"I recall, yes. Has such an eventuality come to pass?"

That would certainly explain his brother's state, but not his words. Who was it that should surely have known better?

"It has not, no. Something a bit more... unexpected, shall we say, has happened."

"Unexpected?" His brother cut in. "That's certainly one way of putting it. I don't know whether to laugh with joy at this turn of events or brood for a week on what it might all mean."

He turned back to the Grand Duke, wanting to know what had happened even more now than he had before. The man, with a small amount of what almost seemed to be disbelief, continued.

"It seems that... well, it seems that most of the advisors of the Kortheran king drowned in a freak accident whilst crossing the river Talana, in Dathan. They were speaking with the Confederation of Falcons, sometimes referred to by name of its central city of 'Kannagrios', over some sort of alliance relating to the chaos that seems to have engulphed Aegos as of late.

"On their return a freak wave seems to have capsized the craft they were using to cross, and many drowned. Some say it was the will of Hydran himself."

The man looked at his brother as he said those last words. Lyk muttered something that sounded suspiciously like '-having words with him later', but none of them said anything else on that topic.

"Okay," he replied, nodding slowly, "so most of the Kortheran king's advisors are dead. Why's that so ground-breaking?"

"Because," his brother continued, "those advisors were the only thing stopping the king's triplet bastard brothers from deposing him. The nobility of Korthera already don't like their king, given how his injuries have stopped him from riding his horse. A man who cannot lead them in battle is not a man the Kortheran lords will willingly follow."

He nodded again.

"So now the Blackpit triplets will take control of the kingdom?"

"Indeed," finished the Grand Duke, "and instead of forming an alliance with the other eastern kingdoms to stymie our advance, the Kortherans have declared war against the Licotemans. I don't know what they hope to gain, but the armies of our two strongest remaining opponents will now surely be spent fighting one another. Our wars should continue in a few days, and if Anawroth is good to us then I cannot foresee the Licotemans being able to interfere in our conflict with the Nordicans.

"Their peasant levies are numerous enough that they will surely have the manpower to fight both the Kortherans and us at the same time, but such a mobilisation of forces will take time. Too much time for them to assist their allies by marriage in Nordicos, at least. And of course, with the bulk of Licotemos' professional fighters busy in Kortheros, we'd be fighting their massed hordes of peasants and mounted squires.

"They will be many in number, but lacking in discipline, equipment, and decent commanders. Licotemos arms its levies better than most kingdoms, that is true, but they don't have enough boiled leather cuirasses and castle-forged spears to arm two separate fielded armies at the same time.

"When Nordicos is knocked out of the war, following the plan of your Grace the king, then we should move straight into Licotemos across the Riverroad without stopping until we encounter a massed force to fight. This will be the best time to see your visions enacted, my king. We cannot overlook this opportunity."

His brother exhaled a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"You're right. This just- it all feels too good to be true, at times. All of this because the waters of the Talana swelled and drowned a few Kortheran advisors?"

The Grand Duke shrugged, still smiling amiably.

"Stranger things have happened, your Grace. I believe we should take these gifts of fate as they come, rather than dwell on them overmuch. We haven't too much time to dally and waste, after all."

Lykourgos nodded. The motion seemed heavy, as though his brother were still wrestling with some sort of emotions or thoughts. Rhema didn't really understand why he seemed so apprehensive, after all, this was all just a positive for them, surely? Still, Lyk had more experience than him on these matters. Besides, even to him it did seem a little too good to be true. Their two strongest enemies tacking each other, preventing any sort of united front from forming? That was lucky, definitely.

Well, not to the kingdoms of eastern Klironomea. But it was certainly lucky to those lands under his brother's crown.

"Is that everything, Grand Duke?"

The man nodded, and Rhema nodded back.

"Then I would ask you for a quiet moment with my brother, if it please you?"

The Grand Duke smiled back at him and, upon the acknowledging gesture from Lyk, turned to leave.

"As you command, your Grace, your Grace."

He bowed to Lykourgos and then to Rhema himself in turn, acknowledging them both as 'Grace', which was something Rhema still hadn't gotten used to since his position had been reinstated by his brother.

The two brothers sat there for a little while in silence. It looked to him that Lyk was staring off into nothing at the moment, thinking deeply as he rubbed his chin with a hand.

Rhema had thought his brother must surely run out of patience soon, what with his constant pacing and muttering from the last few days and now this state of deep thought. He knew, practically, that they still needed to wait a few more days to allow the rearguard of Thrytas' forces to catch up with them and rest for a day or two before continuing the march. What he also knew was that, upon hearing this news, Lyk was going to want to try and march through Nordicos and into Licotemos before anyone had a chance to react.

But of course, that wasn't the only reason his brother would have been on-edge recently. Though Rhema might not always have been the most observant of people, he had noticed a few things recently. Chief amongst which was that, well, Ilias had been sent away.

Yes, his brother's favourite little one had been sent away recently, the cupbearer that was. Ilias had seemed a pretty good cupbearer, if a bit too forwards with Lykourgos and too skittish around Rhema himself, but good nonetheless. It seemed a shame that he had been sent away, and Lyk didn't seem to want to talk about why, but Rhema knew that his brother would have his reasons. He always did, after all.

"So, we're gonna win this one as well then?"

His brother smiled at him, some of the tension leaking from his frame.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course we are. We would of anyway."

He rolled his eyes.

"I know that, obviously. But it's gonna be a hell of a lot easier now than it was before, right?"

"In Nordicos?" His brother questioned, and continued at the nod from Rhema. "Definitely. In Licotemos though? Perhaps not. A dying man will fight with all he had in him, and both the royals and lords of Licotemos will surely know that they're as good as dead if they lose the coming war. They're likely to throw everything they have at us, whether they can truly afford to do so or not. When they realise that they can't win, they'll want to make our victory as painful as possible. It won't be like Owkrestos, where we were able to cut the head off of the snake before staking claim to its den.

"No, this is a conflict that's likely to last years, and continue long after the castles have been seized and armies shattered. The remnants will harry us, just as the old rulers of this land harried them after being deposed decades after the fact. This will be a long war, brother. It's going to test us both greatly."

Rhema nodded, a slight grimace on his face.

"And you worry for him, don't you? Your cupbearer, I mean."

His brother stilled a little at that before continuing.

"Of course I do. But it was for the good of the realm. It was my duty to see him sent away. Believe me, I wish there was something else I could have done, but there wasn't. Not that I could see, nor that anyone offered me anyway.

"Still, no use worrying about that now. The boy will be fine, hopefully. I trust him still and wish him the best for the future."

"Just not a future here working for you?"

His brother turned to him and huffed.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves yet. I may... change my mind, soon. Well, soonish anyway."

Rhema huffed out a laugh of his own.

"You, changing your mind? Well, there's a first time for everything I suppose.

"Don't brood here for too long, brother. Your presence will definitely be missed in the camp if you hole up in here for the rest of the day. I'll see you for a spar later?"

He asked the question a little hopefully, and he knew that his face must have lit up at the answer he received.

"Well, who would I be to decline that offer? I'll see you in a few hours, brother. Try not to beat too many others to paste before I get there."

He grinned back at his brother and clapped him on the shoulder before turning to leave the tent.

"No promises. No promises at all."