In his black tunic and long untidy hair, the hermit looked uneasy, unprepared for the meeting. Phyllis had not been informed. Hence, the sight of the hermit flanked by the guards surprised her.

“Oh dear, what made you drag the physician to the court?” Phyllis asked Eumoplus sitting in his throne next to her.

“I think he did not disclose everything to us that day, Phyllis. I am certain, he knows more about Ismarus and his mother. He’s not telling us.”

Albeit Eumoplus’ insistence annoyed Phyllis, she kept her temper under a lid. She said to her husband, “Tell me what you want to know, dear. I think I have the answers.”

Eumoplus presented a pretentious smile, and said, “My sweet queen, do not tell me Ismarus has been conveying to you his plans for the future.”

“Your informers have already told you where they were heading, haven’t they? Use your brain dear, they are on their way to Sarmizagetusa. They are going to seek shelter from my father-in-law.”

“Your father-in-law!” Eumoplus protested.

“Well, once he used to be,” Phyllis giggled while she said this. And then added, “If he provides shelter, most likely he will, Ismarus and his mother will try to set him up against us. What more do you want to know?”

“Actually, I need to know something else,” upon saying this, Eumoplus whispered something to Phyllis.

Immediately, exploding into a laughter, Phyllis said, “Ismarus knows this from the very beginning. Does it matter what the hermit said to him? He cannot prove anything, and that’s what really counts, my dear husband.”

“Let me talk to him,” Eumoplus said, turning away from Phyllis.

“How long did Ismarus stay at your rat hole old man?” Eumoplus was deliberately rude.

“I have already told you everything, your majesty.”

“No, you have not.”

“Are you going to force the truth out of me, your majesty?”

“Yes, I will. Whether you’re going to tell me willingly or unwillingly, that’s the question. In the dungeon, I have the tools to make you talk like a parrot. I also have Vlad, who just loves playing with those tools. I’m afraid, he’s a bit sick. Nothing pleases him more than the screams of his victims. Now, it’s up to you. You can either choose to visit my dungeon, or tell me everything you know, right here.”

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In a feeble tone, the hermit pleaded, “Your majesty, I have already told you everything. I hardly had any conversation with them. We spoke of foods, medicines and my place.”

“You fed them, provided shelter to them, spoke of foods, medicine and your slimy rat hole, and then you claim, you hardly spoke with them!” Eumoplus exclaimed. Soon afterwards, he beckoned to the guards to take the hermit to the dungeon.

Again and again, the hermit pleaded with Eumoplus to let him go. As soon as the guards disappeared with the hermit, Phyllis told the rest of the courtiers to leave. She was furious. She turned to Eumoplus, and said, “Eumoplus, if you carry on with your stupidity, I am going to leave you. You are truly a genius in the art of turning everyone against you. If you continue like this, soon we will be left with no one but our enemies. Even a king needs allies, friends. The sooner you realize this, the better for all of us.”

Phyllis did not wait to see the outcome of her chastisement. She just stood from her seat, and headed straight for her private quarters with Eumoplus scurrying after his beloved.

“Alright, alright, I will let him go after a brief session of interrogation,” Eumoplus reassured his queen.

Phyllis stopped. It was time to reward her king for the behavior she had expected from him. She allowed him to embrace her from the rear. And then in a seductive tone, she said to him, “I just had my bleeding yesterday, sweetheart. He’s a good physician. Hence, I do not want to lose him.”

The day was unusually hot. Perhaps it was the last heat wave of the summer. The jester had been drenched in sweat when he finally found a farmer with one extra horse. It was a red mare with a white strip on her forehead, reaching down to her nose and mouth. The hard bargain went on for a while, the farmer refusing to accept the jester’s offer. At last, the middle-aged farmer with long dirty blond hair, agreed to sell the horse for three bronze drachmas.

Ismarus had been an expert in the field of raising horses. Hence, when the jester brought the mare to his residence, he did not wait to check the teeth for her age.

“She has eight to ten years left. A bit old, don’t you think so?” Ismarus asked.

“That’s all I could find. I scoured the whole area,” the jester informed.

Then Ismarus checked the eyes and the hooves. They appeared in good condition. “The farmer must have taken good care of the animal. I could find no cracks or erosion in the hooves,” Ismarus remarked. He further checked her muscles, and added, “For the time being, she will do just fine. Just don’t put too much burden on her.”

As soon as Ismarus had finished examining the mare, Calysto appeared from the rear, taking interest in the animal. “Oh, such a beauty!” she remarked, stroking its forehead. “Tegrios loved horses. He would have loved this one.” Then she turned to the jester, and asked, “Where did you get her, Azov?”

“A farmer, living a couple of miles to the north. I had to bargain hard for her.”

“How much did you pay?” Calysto inquired.

“Three bronze drachmas.”

“I would be willing to pay much more for such a beautiful animal,” Calysto remarked. Then, turning to Ismarus, she asked, “Can I have the rein?”

With the rein in her hand, the two trotted away like two close friends. Ismarus and the jester followed them to the outskirt of the village. The moment Calysto had taken the rein, the mare accepted her as its new master, chewing her garb to express her delight. It was the way of the mare to convey her love for her new master. The horse shook its head as Calysto whispered something into its ear. Obediently, the mare trotted alongside Calysto, the rest of the afternoon.