Chapter 3

The Council House was located in the Highward. Not far from Arios’s home but a tiring climb for those unused to its elevation. The Acropolis was as opulent as it was isolated. The roads here were of flagstone. Polished and smooth, lined with marble. Below one had to take great care in the streets lest they trip and fall. Here Arios thought he could even walk bare foot. The people wore exotic colors, amaranth and golden saffron. There was no fear of dirtying such lavish robes. The district was too pure, too well maintained for these concerns. Of course, all were welcome. One only needed to give reason upon entry. However, the suspicious stares and icy demeanor of its residents betrayed a hostile stance towards those of the lower wards. Arios felt their eyes following him and was glad the Council House was just ahead.

Constructed from immense slabs of marble, the seat of the Council was a marvel of engineering advancement and artistic vision. A brilliant pearl with rivers of pale blue dancing along the surface. An ode to Kallidrios in the colors of the King.

Arios stepped through its golden doors into the Great Hall. He saw his father, already seated at the council table. At its head sat Lord Kalydor, Steward of Kenosia. There sat four other men who were unknown to him but the largest one was snoring.

On the benches behind father sat Doros, Erykos and Dametros. Architects in his father’s employ. He took a seat next to them and they nodded, unsurprised at his presence. Father must have already informed them of his intentions.

“Welcome to Kenosia Lord Pyragos. It has been far too long.” The Steward had a deep and drawling voice. Noble but aloof. “Tell us, what news from the north? How goes the fighting?”

“It goes well, Lord Steward,” replied Pyragos. “Our King is made for such adversity. He stamps out the heretics wherever they may arise.”

So, the rumors were true. Pyragos did lead this army. He was a tall man. Even seated he was a head above all the other Lords. He had the look of a King. A strong jaw and handsome nose. He was young, almost too young, his hair cut short in golden curls. Arios had never seen King Thalorian but if he looked anything like his cousin then what a visage he must strike.

Pyragos continued, “We have just come from the front. We are meant to be on leave and had planned to return to the Capital. This however, is no longer possible.”

The crowd began to murmur and Arios sat up straight. This was why they were here.

“Oh?” inquired Kalydor. “Do tell us.”

“My scouts encountered a large Kyrithon force a fortnights march from here” — Gasps broke out in the crowd as Arios leaned forward — “Somehow, they slipped through our lines undetected. I have sent word to the King but we cannot expect aid before they reach Kenosia.”

At this one of the unknown men rose up. He was an older man with salted hair and a greying beard. He cleared his throat. “Lord Pyragos when will you ride out to smash these apostates? My men would be honored to join you.”

Pyragos observed the man calmly then replied, “I do not believe we have met. Lord…?”

“Lord Theron,” interjected Kalydor. “Apologies Sir, my councilman may be blunt but I assure you he has the best interests of Kenosia at heart and we are ready to provide any support needed in routing the followers of Arram.”

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“There is nothing I desire more than to ride out and face this host in the name of King Thalorian. But my men are weary and their army far too large to meet in the open fields. No, we must prepare Kenosia for an extended siege.”

The room exploded. Shouted words melted into each other making it impossible for Arios to make out a single one. He watched as Lord Pyragos’s guard encircled the table, separating the noblemen from the crowd. Several agitated spectators attempted to push their way through but were sent crashing to the marble floor in the same way Arios had been disposed of this morning. He winced, rubbing his temple.

Amongst the guard Arios spotted the captain from earlier. He was pushing back a couple of drunk men with ease and seemed utterly unconcerned with all the commotion. Arios rose to get a better look. He would need to find an opportunity to speak with the man again. Stepping forward excitedly he suddenly felt someone grab his arm and pull him back down to his seat.

“They’ve just gotten a little excited is all,” Erykos yelled over the noise. “Too much wine, best to wait until they’ve calmed down a bit.”

Arios turned to argue but as he did Lord Kalydor slammed the table!

“Silence!” Kalydor did not have the Kingly look of Lord Pyragos, he was shorter with dark curls, but he was known in Kenosia and respected by all in the Great Hall. His word was law and the crowd reluctantly returned to their seats. “This is no way to treat an honored guest and envoy of our beloved King. I have known Lord Pyragos since he was boy. If he says we must prepare to be besieged then believe me, this is our best and only course.” Then turning to Lord Pyragos, “Let me introduce you to my Master of Coin Lord Demarcus and my Master of Commerce Lord Argyros. You have already met my Master of War Lord Theron.”

Lord Demarcus was a spindly man whose emerald robes hung from his frame in an unnatural manner. He stood pursing his thin lips. “How may I serve you General?” He had a whispery voice, nasal, and he was very annoyed. “I suppose you will be looking for coin to pay your men?”

“Just so,” replied Pyragos coldly. “I will have the proper documents sent to your office this evening.”

“Please do not delay,” whined Demarcus and he sank back into his seat.

On the other hand, Lord Argyros was short and fat. His face was red and he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes having just been awakened by all the commotion.

“Lord Argyros?” questioned Pyragos. “Tell me the state of the city’s stores? Are they well maintained?”

“Indeed, they are,” chuckled Argyros. “Sure, things might get a little tight but there’s plenty of wheat and salted meats. Even enough wine to go around! Of course, You may use my personal stores, perhaps to share with your officers or…” — He winked at Pyragos — “perhaps they could be lost on the way! Moreover, it would be my honor to host a great feast tonight welcoming you to the city and celebrating the beginning of the rains! All here would be welcome” ¬— This elicited many drunken cheers from the crowd — “even you Demarcus, you old bat!” He punctuated this invitation by slamming his elbow into Lord Demarcus’s chest causing him to choke on his wine.

“A generous invitation and one I will gladly accept. But you have reminded me of a final pressing matter. The rains. Is the city prepared to prevent flooding? It is a tactic that our enemy may press.”

“You will wish to speak to my Master Architect,” Kalydor answered. “When he took over our city was on the brink of ruin but he has completely restored our river walls and the city drainage. Daidal.” He nodded towards Father.

Father stood slowly. Bowing as he rose. “Milord the river-wall is ten meters high and we test our drainage throughout the year digging newer and deeper aqueducts as failsafe’s. There has never been a season of rain that caused the Kallidra to rise even half as high as our walls. In regards to siege tactics the river-wall is completely contained by our outer-wall. The city itself would fall before it flooded.”

Pyragos nodded. Then paused frowning, “On our journey here we saw many sluicegates upstream of the city. Tell me of them.”

“The sluicegates were used in times when the city was in disrepair. We keep them maintained now as a preventative measure but if the Kyrithon attempt to raise the waters with them all they would achieve is the flooding their own armies. We should pray to Kallidrios that they do so.”

“Thank you Daidal. That was most comprehensive.” Pyragos turned to Kalydor, “That will be all, we may end this council session.”

“Excellent. We shall begin preparations tomorrow, but tonight, we feast!”

The hall rang with cheers as the crowd began to file out. Arios scrambled up looking for the captain but they had already formed ranks marching around Lord Pyragos. A second chance wasted. He would wait for Father he did not wish to walk home alone.