Soter sat in council beside his father. He was discussing some military matter with a man who had arrived at the city only a few days ago. His skin was as brown as wood from the years he had spent under that Eastern sun.

“Consul” the general said, bowing.

“Yes Lamachus, I heard that you had made the hard road back here.”

“Oh, the road back here is easy. It’s the road there that is hard.”

“Well” said Alexander, “Why is it that you made the journey here? If it was to enjoy the more agreeable climate here I shall have you hanged a deserter.”

Lamachus chuckled nervously, “No, no. I made the journey to deliver to you the direst news and request your immediate assistance. The Infidel has made an assault on us. Coordinated, all at once. Every one of our camps and our city barracks and the palaces where our governors rule from were attacked by multitudes of Infidel, mostly rabble, but strikingly well-commanded. Some of our more remote camps we still haven’t received messengers from. We are forced to assume that these camps were overwhelmed in their entirety. Our other strongholds beat them back, but not without significant casualties. We require more men and more arms - for the local blacksmiths are vastly inferior to our own and unable to maintain our arms.”

“This is grave news Lamachus. Why is it, I wonder, that you left your command to deliver this news where a messenger boy would have sufficed?”

“Consul. I am obligated to deliver this news so as to ensure that you understand just how desperate our situation is. I could not possibly trust some boy with the army’s very survival dependent upon aid from the capital.”

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“I shall consider it.”

“With greatest respect, may I ask you to recall your father and forefathers who originally took up the banner of God and marched East to slay the Infidel? Will you risk losing all that they gained, disgracing their very legacy? And how will you look, one of the only Consuls who shied away from command and let the armies disintegrate?”

“I am not a craven, Lamachus! I’ll not march east to die in some waterhole like all the men before me. But I’ll not abandon my father’s legacy. I shall give the orders, when I see fit, to gather a new army and march it east under the trusted command of a Senator. Until then, enjoy your short stay here General.”

Lamachus’ face tightened to an expression of utter contempt. Any respect for the Consul was no longer there, “What of the thousands who have died in the east, why should they die while you sit here on your fine throne trying to convince yourself that you are not a craven when your actions speak far louder than the hisses that come out of your fanged mouth?”

Soter accidentally let out an exclamation of shock.

“Seize him!” screamed the Consul.

The doors burst open and two guards, fully armoured, grabbed the General by either arm.

“For your treasonous words I strip you of your command.” Said Alexander, “Let him rot in a cell.”

The guards marched him out.

--

Later, Isaura came into the room sweeping the floor with a broom. Her short chiton was becoming brown on the edges with dirt and dust. She was managing her chores remarkably well considering her blindness. Soter remembered when he was a child and he first saw her after the blinding. He had been glad that she was still alive – then he saw her. He could not bear to look at her face, and he had been grateful to God that she could not see what must have been the undisguised disgust and fear on his face.

“Soter, I’m so sorry your father made you watch that. I hope you’re alright – where are you?”

She had reached out to try to hug him but he couldn’t bear to go any closer to that face - to those black, expressionless sockets. He had not known what he should have said so he said nothing and snuck as quietly as he could out of the room.

Now he looked at her sweeping the stony floor.