The next morning I again reported at Brutus’s office.
“Greetings, young Antonius. How are we this splendid, sunny morning?”
“Fairly well,” I answered while trying to suppress a yawn.
“Good. Go to your room to the Temple or wherever you dwell these days and pack your traveler’s bag. Tomorrow you and I leave for Attica. We must feel out their king, to see where his allegiances lie.”
Attica was a small port city state located south of the Dwarvenlands, at the mouth of the river Calanea. The old king had been a great friend of Vetulonia, but he died a year ago from a mysterious illness. Some whispered he was poisoned by his son, an ambitious young man of dubious nature. Otho and I learned of this when they were preparing us for the expedition.
“Tomorrow?” I frowned.
“Yes, tomorrow at dawn! Don’t be late. We’ll travel with horses to the town of Sentinum, there we’ll board the ship and sail to Attica.”
“What about Pompeya?”
“Pompeya has other business. It’ll be just the two of us. We’ll return in approximately two weeks, I suspect.”
The thought of another journey reminded me of the expedition and the Orc attack and Julia’s demise. My stomach began to hurt and I became hot, to the point of sweating. This Brutus noticed and frowned.
“Are you unwell, Antonius?”
Uncertain with that to say I decided to speak the truth:
“Being back on the road so soon makes me a bit nervous. With everything that happened. But I’ll be fine! It’s merely a…” I took a deep breath and continued: “With time I’ll get these unsorted feelings under command. I’m quite sure of that.”
Brutus remained quiet for some time, staring at me with his green piercing eyes. Finally he spoke:
“Remember the words of our sages, Antonius. Everything flows. There is no control, no command! Do the best you can, be calm and let things play out. Don’t try to force or suppress your emotions. That’s not possible. You’d only be pretending. With time this mindset of forcefulness would deform you. And the day would come you wouldn’t be able to recognize yourself. Nor understand where exactly your life turned to worse. Do my words make sense to you?”
I remained quiet, thought about what he’d said and then nodded without saying anything.
“Good. Cry it out, acknowledge it, meditate and be present in the moment. You’re not surrounded by Orcs, Julia isn’t at your feet, dying. You’re in Lux, Vetulonia, in a small, dingy and warm room, talking to your knighted superior. Yes?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Report here at dawn. And if you feel the need to talk, we’ll have plenty of time. Yes?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
I returned to the tavern. I packed my bag and wrote a note for Nicola which I intended to leave with the tavern’s owner Lucius. Then I remembered it wouldn't be the worst idea to write another letter to mother, explaining my absence. That I did, and later in the afternoon I walked to the post office and mailed it. In the evening I relaxed under a downpour and went to bed early. Morning came all too swiftly.
I was restless all night and didn’t get much sleep. So when I got up from bed I was tired and grumpy. I grabbed my already packed traveler's bag and locked the door behind me. I descended the pitch-black stairs. Lucius always got up hours before dawn and was already sweeping the floor when I appeared in the tavern. He then prepared breakfast for me. Bread, eggs, beans and vegetables. I then said goodbye to him and left a note for Nicola. I felt an odd relief when I stepped outside the tavern. It was early and still dark. The streets were illuminated by lamps and completely empty. The snow made everything even more peaceful. By the time I reached the Cohort Temple I was in a better mood. Brutus was already waiting, outside, mounted on a black horse. Next to him stood a white stallion intended for me. The sun was just about to rise.
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“I’m not late, am I?” I asked worried.
“Not at all. It is me who is early. Come on now, let’s be on our way.”
I mounted the horse, and off we were. We rode slowly through the streets, but once we left the city gates behind we quickened the pace. During the ride we didn’t talk much. We traveled on dirt roads, covered with a finger or two of snow. When the sun came up and bathed the world with light, I felt good. Doing something purposeful again, at last, made me not think of the expedition.
At noon we reached a small village, where we found a tavern with stables. There they took care of our horses, while we went inside to eat. We were served a meat stew with vegetables, bread and a cup of beer. Again, we didn’t talk much, which I admit didn’t bother me at all. Sometimes I preferred silence, especially when tired and hungry. But after we had filled our bellies, Brutus finally spoke:
“We’ll continue our journey for another three hours, until we reach the town of Lorium. There we’ll find a tavern and finish up for the day. With this pace we’ll be in Sentinum by tomorrow evening and in the morning we’ll board the ship waiting for us.”
“That sounds good.”
“Are you feeling better, Antonius?”
“I do. It feels good being on the road. Doing something. What exactly is our purpose in Attica?”
“As I told you already, to feel out the new king.”
“Did he truly poison his father?”
“Yes, the Cohort believes he did.”
“He can’t be trusted then.”
“He can’t.”
“So what are we trying to do then?” I frowned and shook my head.
Brutus lowered his head and answered with a whisper:
“I intended to reveal everything to you once we board the ship, but might as well tell you know. Our mission is a show, theatrics. The king is probably already dead, murdered. By our Wolves. Of course they’ll stage it as an accident.”
I got confused.
“Then why are we traveling all the way to Attica then?”
“Well, to cast away any suspicion of Vetulonian involvement. Why would Vetulonia send two diplomats to negotiate with the young king, if they intended to have him killed. Doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“It… It feels wrong. Killing a man in such way,” I again shook my head.
“This is politics, Antonius. Besides, the deed wasn’t planned with passion, lust or narrow minded goals.”
“Still doesn’t feel right.”
“Killing never does. But sometimes it’s necessary. Better for one man to die than countless others.”
“What about the Flow? Let everything play out,” I kept pushing.
“If you saw a girl getting attacked by scoundrels, would you let it be? In the name of so-called holiness? Life is a lot more complicated than we’d like it to be. Nobody makes these decisions lightly. Attica is important. It controls what comes out of Dwarvenlands and the Futania Hill Folks are right next to it. And anyone who controls Attica holds the potential of disrupting sea trade to Northern Vetulonia.”
“I understand all of this. But… I guess it reminds me of what happened to Lord Cronos. I spoke of him before…”
“Lord Cronos was a good man. This new boy-king wasn’t.”
“It’s mighty dangerous to be a judge and an executioner at the same time. Don’t you think so?”
“Perhaps. In most cases most definitely. But we are facing Alec and the League. And unfortunately we must resort to the same methods he uses, or we will lose. This is our curse. Our sacrifice.”
“But it doesn’t feel like we’re sacrificing anything. We tell ourselves we are, so we can justify our deeds and make pretend we’re different from the League’s chancellor. But are we? What makes us different if we are applying the very same principles to decisions he does?”
“You make fine points, my young Antonius… Tell me, if Vetulonia gets invaded, will you fight?”
“I will.”
“Well, consider these schemes a form of battle and skirmishes then. Because they are. War is already here and these ill deeds are merely logistics and preparations. I wish I had a more honorable, idealistic answer for you to justify our deeds, but I don’t. War isn't battles and skirmishes. Politics and schemes are more important than clashing bloody swords against each other. Do you realize how many wars were prevented by assassins? Countless! I must now stop talking of this, because the more I talk, the less convincing I am to myself, hah! Think about my words and think hard. There’s truth in them.”
I knew he had a point, yet still I felt disgusted.