As he walked next to Jenos Delios wondered about master Mar’Doug’s words. The sage had been clear about not wanting to reveal all the details of his plan until he was sure that it was doable. If he says we’re close, he must be convinced, Delios thought.

Upon master Mar’Doug’s suggestion, he’d moved his work to the room that was now known as the Office. He’d coordinated the preparation of the city’s defense from there, as well as the errands the sage needed to be done. Sending scouts to the mountains to talk to the locals and survey the terrain. Sending a rider to the foot of Rehala’s Mount to collect ash and volcanic stone. And many more the purpose of which hadn’t always been clear to him. Despite working side by side every day, he still wasn’t able to see the complete picture.

Jenos lead them down the palace corridors in the direction of Memnostis’s private quarters.

Delios realized that he hadn’t seen or heard much of the anax in the past couple of days. In addition to his work with the sage, he’d been busy preparing supply and weapons storages while senior warriors like Jenos organized the men of fighting age. What have you been doing all this time? He thought. Rumors said he was meeting with the priests every day. A constant stream of sacrifices had been going to the altar but so far to no avail. If the gods knew what was to come, they were apparently reluctant to share their wisdom.

“The master seemed to be in good spirits,” Jenos said suddenly.

He’d said it conversationally, but Delios heard the question behind it. As a seasoned warrior, Jenos was one of the people who understood the realities of the coming conflict. “Yes, he is quite happy with the progress we are making.” While he spoke, Delios carefully observed the older man.

“That’s good,” Jenos said, nodding to himself.

He is looking to the sage for hope.

It was a sudden realization. Was Jenos the only one? That was unlikely. Delios mind went through the past days. Master Mar’Doug and he had spoken to many people. Warriors, priests and scribes, craftsmen, merchants, and even laborers. At this point, all of Riadnos would know that they were working on something to defend the city.

Jenos wasn’t asking him for details. Was it enough for him to know that his leaders had a plan?

At that moment, Delios understood something about ruling. In a crisis, people looked to their leaders for hope. The term Office, a word unknown until a week ago, had spread throughout the palace and maybe beyond that in less than a week because that was where people were looking. Delia was right, he thought.

“Delios?”

He looked up. They’d arrived at the door to the anax’s quarters. Jenos was waiting for him with a questioning expression on his face. On a nod from him, he knocked at the door. It was opened from the inside by another warrior a heartbeat later.

There was a total of five veterans standing guard in the room. Adding Jenos that meant that Memnostis kept a personal guard of six men even when he was alone in his chambers. Delios had memories of the anax scoffing at Ajaxos' insistence to take guards on a ride in the countryside.

“Have a seat.”

The anax was laying in front of him, stretched out on a massage table. Two naked boys who could barely be older than twelve were rubbing oil into his shoulders and back.

Following Memnostis’ order, Delios crossed the room, aiming for the small table next to the window. It was a nice spot, overlooking the lake.

The table held a pitcher of wine, and Delios took his time filling a cup. When he couldn’t delay turning around any longer, he took a seat, to wait for the anax to address him.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for long. Memnostis soon had enough. On his wave, the boys quickly climbed off him and the anax rose with a satisfied grunt. The expression of contentment froze when his eyes fell on his son. “Leave us.”

The warriors filed out of the room, while the two boys disappeared to the other room. The anax’s bed chambers.

Memnostis waited until they’d left before he wrapped a cloth around his waist and joined his son.

Delios quickly filled a cup and handed it to his father, who received it wordlessly. For a long moment, Memnostis just stood there, towering over him. Taller than Delios, he’d never neglected his training and muscles bulged under his oil glistening skin.

Forced to look up, Delios felt a surge of insecurity. The feeling of being the lesser man was very familiar to him.

The anax’s mouth formed something close to a half-smile. He took a step back and dropped into the wide chair opposite his son.

“We have not spoken in a while,” Memnostis said, his face unreadable to Delios.

“Yes.”

Memnostis took a sip from his cup, observing Delios over the rim. He took his time.

“You are working from master Mar’Doug’s rooms now,” the anax said after a while.

Not a question, Delios thought. “Yes.”

“You also follow him around a lot. Or run around on errands he orders.”

Again, not a question. Delios mind raced, trying to figure out where Memnostis was going. What was he looking for? For now, he just nodded and put his lips to the cup.

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The anax didn’t say anything for a while. He just sat there, observing.

Delios understood the challenge. Years ago, he would have wilted right away. He would have looked down or started babbling under the pressure of the silence. Was it really that long ago?

Surprisingly, it was the anax who broke the silence first. He sat up and reached for the pitcher. “It is good that master Mar’Doug is kept occupied. But you cannot neglect your other duties.”

“We are actually ahead,” Delios said. “The sage shared some organizational methods and tools with us. They are surprisingly simple, but they have already made a difference. The time people spend on explaining or re-confirming orders was cut down massively.” Memnostis’ eyes narrowed and Delios quickly continued. “If everything goes well, the sage hopes to present our plan to you tomorrow.”

“The plan to build a wall in the western mountains!” The anax laughed scornfully. “Do you know yet how he wants to accomplish that feat?”

Delios had to shake his head. “I understand some of the details. He has Linos and his apprentices build a tool that enables the lifting of great weights. The shipbuilders were positively excited about it. If what he is going to show us tomorrow is equally powerful, I am hopeful that it can be done.”

“Yes, everybody he talks to is excited and hopeful.” The anax refilled his cup for the third time. He peered down into the red liquid for a couple of heartbeats before emptying it in one gulp.

Delios felt the urge to say something in defense of the sage but held back. He still wasn’t sure where this conversation was going.

Memnostis reached for the pitcher for the fourth time. “The expedition to relieve the refugees from the Half-Moon Valley ran into Assanaten patrols. Apparently, the western mountains are crawling with them.”

“How…When? I hadn’t heard.” Delios was shocked. He’d almost forgotten about the expedition.

“I kept the news from spreading,” Memnostis said. “We cannot afford a panic.”

“Father!” Delios almost shouted. He caught himself in the last moment, seeing the dangerous glint in Memnostis' eyes. It was mostly hidden behind the cloudiness of the wine but it was there. “Father, I needed to know about this. Master Mar’Doug needs to know. We might have to adjust our plans.”

“Our plans?” the anax asked challenging.

Delios took a breath before speaking. “If you don’t believe in master Mar’Doug’s ideas, why did you give him all this support?”

Memnostis continued to glower into his cup. “What I need is those two on my walls. It will keep the populace in line. The Assanaten use their magi in battle, and all the rumors say they have a lot of them. If we must fight…”

They were quiet for a while. Observing his father, Delios realized something. Memnostis didn’t want to fight. The anax was tired. Would he be willing to send his warriors beyond the city’s walls to challenge the Assanaten in the mountains?

“Will you listen to master Mar’Doug’s suggestion?”

“The basileis have begun to arrive,” the anax said, rising from his seat. “We will hold the great council the day after tomorrow. He can present his plan there.” He turned his back and walked towards his bedroom, taking the pitcher with him.

It was a dismissal.

Delios stared after the anax, trying to wrap his head around the situation. “We cannot win a siege,” he said, standing up. “If the Assanaten takes the valley, it is over.” If Memnostis left it to a council vote without his endorsement, they would never succeed. What was he thinking?

“And you think we can win a battle?” Memnostis asked sharply.

“You have before.”

“Ayaxos is dead!” The shout rang through the chamber. Memnostis whirled around to face his son, his face contorted with anger. “He’s dead. So is Dorios and fifty of my best warriors.” He pointed at Delios. “Who’s going to take their place? You?”

Delios clenched his fist, swallowing an angry reply. The anax would break him without hesitation if he overstepped. He had to stay calm.

Something is wrong here, he thought. Memnostis was a man of great appetite who liked to indulge. But he was also a hard man. Maybe he was tired of fighting, but that didn’t mean he would just give up. Ruling Riadnos for decades, he’d survived many crises. “What did you do?”

This was dangerous. If Memnostis decided to take this as a challenge, Delios would die.

Memnostis glowered at him. Not for the first time Delios wished he’d been blessed with Delias' Gift. He forced himself to look calm. I’m your son, he thought. Your successor. Please, share your plans with me. Trying to convey all this in his stance, in his expression, he faced the anax.

After a moment that felt like an eternity something in Memnostis' face changed. He’d come to a decision. “I had the priests sacrifice to the gods every day since the attack,” he said, his eyes looking tired.

“I heard.”

“Do you know what the gods revealed to them?”

Delios shook his head. Was he about to learn what had caused the anax’s current state? What had caused him to retreat to his chambers for all this time?

“Nothing. Worse than nothing!” Memnostis gestured with his hand holding the cup, ignoring the splashing wine. “Confused babbling! That’s all they got!” He stopped and his arm dropped. “Mistress Bel’Sara came to see me. She told me about the prophecies regarding that girl, Atissa. She said that…things are out of order. Fate, as dictated by the gods, is disturbed.” He paused, his eyes searching the distance as if he was trying to remember the conversation with the sage. “They came for her, you remember?”

“The Assanaten?”

“Yes. They were here!” Memnostis made a step forward, pointing at the ground. “In my palace. They could have burned all of us in our sleep. Like they did in Saggab!”

“But the sages stopped them,” Delios said carefully.

“They came here because Mar’Doug brought that girl here.”

Delios kept his face carefully neutral. “What did mistress Bel’Sara ask of you?” She was a magus. A sage conversing with the gods. She would have offered some kind of bargain.

“The girl,” Memnostis said. “She just wants the girl. To restore the foretold flow of things.”

“Master Mar’Doug might not like that,” Delios said slowly. “He is very protective of the girl.”

Memnostis waved it aside. “Mistress Bel’Sara explained that he’s the cause of all this. And your sister said he wants a relationship with us. He might not want to let the girl go but he won’t follow her. Not if we offer him a place of power.”

That should have relieved Delios somewhat. He’d barely dealt with the girl. His hope rested with the sage and his plans. But it felt somehow wrong. “And mistress Bel’Sara told you that if the girl leaves if the order of things is restored, we will win?” he asked.

Memnostis didn’t answer right away. Instead, he frowned staring down at the empty cup.

“Father?”

“The city will fall,” the anax said quietly.

Delios just stared at his father unable to respond.

The anax shrugged. “It has been foretold. There’s nothing you or I or a crazy magus from the gods don’t know where can do about it. What we can control is how.”

Finally, Delios understood. “You are going to surrender.”

The anax’s behavior since the attack, his demeanor as he stood in front of him now, suddenly made sense. Memnostis had made his decision. Now he was just working on living with it.

“Mistress Bel’Sara says the Assanaten fear the girl,” Memnostis said. “The girl won’t be here anymore. But our walls will be. Our warriors will be. And if your sister is right, Mar’Doug will be, as well. So, the Assanaten have the choice. A bloody battle that will cost hundreds of their warriors their lives…”

“…or accepting us as vassals,” Delios said, finishing the anax’s sentence.

The anax nodded smiling to himself. “A cheap win. And they can use their strength to go south and fight Saggab where mistress Bel’Sara and the girl will be.”

Delios said nothing. He didn’t know what, so he kept quiet, watching Memnostis refill his cup. How many had it been?

“Get out now.” The anax turned around without looking up again. “I don’t want to see you for a couple of days.”