The return trip to Danustica was a mix of victory and tiredness. Long shadows were created over the road as the morning sun rose above the horizon. The fresh breeze carried the subtle aroma of the wildflowers that bordered the walk and the damp earth.
I sat in the back of one of the carts, the wooden planks rough against my hands as I steadied myself. Beside me was Silvana, her expression as unreadable as ever. She gazed at the passing scenery, her hair catching the golden light. It was only when we hit a particularly bumpy stretch of road that she turned to me, breaking the silence.
“So, Augustus,” she began, her tone tinged with curiosity, “was it worth it?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Worth what?”
“Taking on the Embers of Flame for a sum so small it barely covers our expenses,” she clarified, her gaze locking with mine. “We lost good people. Was it the right call?”
Her words cut through the morning peace, forcing me to confront the consequences of my decisions. I let out a slow breath, considering my reply. “It wasn’t just about the gold, Silvana. The Embers of Flame was a threat—to that village, to others nearby, and perhaps even to us if left unchecked. Stopping them was necessary.”
She nodded thoughtfully, her expression softening. “True, the villagers were grateful. Their smiles made it easier to bear the losses. And whatever your true goal was with securing that smithy in Epicrotea, I’ll trust your judgment… as long as I’m getting paid.”
I chuckled softly at her honesty. “You will be, Silvana. I’ll make sure of it.”
The conversation lingered in the air, neither of us feeling the need to say more. The rest of the journey passed in relative silence, punctuated only by the occasional chatter among the troops or the distant calls of birds overhead.
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As we approached the gates of Danustica, the towering walls came into view. The scent of the city reached us even before the gates came into full view—a mix of baked bread, roasted meat and spices.
A pair of guards stationed at the gates stepped forward as we came close. Their polished armour gleamed in the sunlight, though their expressions were more relaxed than intimidating. One of them, a bearded man with sharp eyes, raised a hand to halt us.
After we informed him who we were he replied “You are Augustus of Nova?” he said, his tone formal but not unfriendly. “We’ve been instructed to inform you that someone from the governor’s office is expecting your group. You are to be escorted directly to the chamber.”
I exchanged a glance with Nathanos, who rode up beside me. His face was as stoic as ever, though I caught the faintest flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “Lead the way,” I replied to the guard, nodding.
While Nathanos and I dismounted, the rest of the group decided to make their way to a nearby inn to rest and regroup. I gave Silvana and Sora quick instructions to ensure everyone had food and a place to sleep before turning my attention back to the guards.
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The path to the governor’s hall wound through the city, a maze of narrow streets and wide plazas filled with the hum of activity. Merchants shouted out their wares, the clink of coins mingling with the laughter of children playing in the alleys.
When we arrived at the governor’s residence, we were not directed to the grand hall where I had expected to meet Ira, the governor herself. Instead, the guards led us to a smaller chamber situated in a quieter corner of the building. The room was modest but tastefully decorated, with tapestries depicting scenes of past battles and a heavy wooden table at its centre.
Seated at the table was a young man with dark-blond hair that fell just below his ears. He looked up as we entered, his sharp features breaking into a confident smile. “Ah, Augustus and Nathanos of Nova,” he greeted, rising to his feet. “It wouldn’t be wrong if I say that I was mesmerized by your performance in the Arena. I am Eutropios Pethros an aide to Governor Ira Pethros”
I studied him carefully, noting the fine embroidery on his tunic and the signet ring on his finger. The name Pethros was etched into my memory, a name tied to the ruling clan of the Southern Empire. This man—Eutropios Pethros—was no ordinary official.
“It’s an honour to meet you,” I replied cautiously, my tone calculated. “To what do we owe this summons?”
He chuckled, motioning for us to sit. “Straight to business, I see. I admire that. First, let me say I witnessed your performance in the tournament. Marvelous, truly. Nathanos, you’ve become quite the sensation in this city. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to say every girl here dreams of you—and perhaps a few men too.” He laughed heartily at his jest, though Nathanos’s expression remained impassive.
“We’re flattered,” I said dryly, steering the conversation back on course. “But I assume you didn’t call us here to discuss tournaments.”
Eutropios’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. “Indeed. I have a contract specifically requested for your group. As you know, our nation is surrounded by enemies on all fronts—the Western Empire, Aserai, Khuzait, and Northern Empire. But the most pressing threat is the Khuzait to the east.”
He leaned forward, his fingers steepled. “Their horse archers are unmatched, and we’ve suffered many humiliating defeats even during the height of the Empire. Our defences rely heavily on two factors: the sea, which they cannot traverse on horses, and the mountains, guarded by the Eleftheroi people.”
The mention of the Eleftheroi piqued my interest. These were fierce, independent mountain folk with a deep-seated hatred for the Khuzait, born of generations of conflict.
“The Eleftheroi are technically under the Southern Empire’s domain,” Eutropios continued, “but they operate independently. Their lands are barren, unable to sustain much agriculture, so we send them aid regularly. This time, their leader specifically requested your group to deliver the supplies.”
I frowned slightly. “Why us?”
“Perhaps your reputation precedes you,” he said with a sly grin. “Regardless, the task is simple. Escort the supplies to the Eleftheroi. You will be compensated handsomely—4,000 denars. But be warned, the laws of the Empire do not apply in their territory. It’s a land ruled by their customs.”
The terms were straightforward, and the pay was generous. Escorting supplies was far from the most dangerous job we’d undertaken. “I’ll need to discuss this with my team,” I replied, mindful of the need for consensus after the last mission.
Eutropios nodded. “Understandable. The supplies will be ready by the day after tomorrow. Let me know your decision by evening.”
With that, we took our leave. As we made our way back through the city, I discussed the proposal with Nathanos, weighing the risks and rewards. The shadow of our losses still hung over us, but the prospect of steady work and significant pay was hard to ignore.
By the time we reached the inn, the setting sun had bathed the city in hues of orange and gold. It was a moment of calm before the next storm, a chance to regroup and decide the path forward. For now, though, the weight of leadership pressed heavily on my shoulders, a constant reminder of the lives entrusted to my command.