“Father wants to stay in power,” Delia said. “That is the motive behind everything he does.”

“And since when do you do that by handing over your city to the enemy?” Delios asked angrily. He paced back and forth in Delia’s small chamber.

He’d shown up with the first light and told her about his conversation with the anax the evening before. One could see how anxious he was about it. He hadn’t sat down a single moment since he stormed in.

“It’s cowardly,” Delios murmured. “And stupid.”

At least her brother had the sense to say such things silently. Even here in her private quarters, they couldn’t be sure that nobody was listening. From a servant’s mouth to her Memnostis’ ears, it could be her brother’s end. Delia knew the anax. Probably even better than Ajaxos had. She had a very good idea of what he was capable of. Especially in his current state.

“He doesn’t see a chance to win a war,” Delia said in a low voice.

And he doesn’t have the will for it anymore, Delia added in her mind. Delios was right but he didn’t really believe it. Not yet. Helcenaean men were raised to be courageous. Or at least to pretend to be.

A Helcenaean ruler led his men into battle. An anax or basileus that showed cowardice would lose his position. His warriors would refuse to follow him. The gods would forsake their protection. To accuse Memnostis of such was a deadly challenge nobody, not even his son, would survive.

“The Assanaten don’t keep the local rulers in place like the Saggabian do.” He stopped to look out the window. “They install their own governors and crush any resistance with terror.”

Helcenaean and Crimson traders kept them informed on the events in the south. War was a brutal business but the Assanaten had set new standards of ruthlessness. When Saggab conquered a territory, they plundered and took slaves. They set up a local as ruler and demanded tribute and men in case of war. If the conquered rebelled, they were punished brutally. It was the way things were done. The Assanaten were different. Men, women, and children. Any city that didn’t open its gates to them was made to regret it.

Delios fingers taped on the windowsill. He was frustrated.

Observing him, what Delia saw concerned and intrigued her at the same time. Her brother was inspired.

“You have changed,” she said. “Since you started working with master Mar’Doug. And you are not the only one.”

Delios turned to her. He studied her face, trying to read her thoughts. A futile endeavor.

“He knows so much,” Delios said. “And he is sharing his knowledge with us. Things that have applications beyond the war. And our people understand it. You can see it in their eyes. Elaiadoros, Linos and his apprentices.” He shook his head. “It is almost as if they cannot wait for this war to be over so they can start to apply everything they are learning.”

It was true. Delia had seen it. Not just in her brother but in all the people that worked in or with the Office. The sage seemed to recruit talented people wherever he found them. It was hard to believe that it had barely been two weeks since he’d begun.

“Do you think his plan can succeed?” Delia asked.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No doubt.

Delia was surprised. “But you said, master Mar’Doug had not shared it with you? Not completely.”

Delios nodded. “That is true. He said he wanted to make sure that it was truly possible before he revealed all the details. But I see the parts coming together every day. The pullies and the cranes, capable of lifting heavy loads. You should have seen the eyes of the shipbuilders.” Delios smiled for the first time since he’d stormed into her chambers. “The supply chains…that’s the organization of the work groups to transport material from the quarries to the foot of the mountain. He has taught us entirely new ways to distribute and track work. I am sure when he presents us the results of his experiment from yesterday it will all come together. But the anax is not even interested in that.” Delios anger returned. “He told me to present our suggestion to the great council.”

“He said that?” Delia asked.

Her brother nodded.

Delia considered their situation. As far as Memnostis was concerned, he’d placed his children with the sages to keep track of them. Delia had played her role as she always did. Dutiful and invisible. Accompanying mistress Bel’Sara but staying in the background.

Delios and master Mar’Doug had made waves from day one. Using the anax’s son as a confirmation of his mandate, master Mar’Doug had walked around, handed out tasks, and recruited men wherever he went. That the anax hadn’t intervened was taken as silent confirmation.

“Father feels threatened by what you and master Mar’Doug have been doing,” Delia said. “That will make things more difficult.”

Delios frowned. “How can that be? He could have shut us down with a word anytime.”

Delia shook her head. “In the beginning maybe. But you worked so fast and talked to so many people.” She waved in the direction of the door. “The citizens are afraid. Especially after seeing the smoke of the burning palace over the city. The Assanaten got inside the inner wall!” She slowly rose, straitening her dress. “Then you went around the city. Even if they don’t know the plan, they see that you are working on their defense. They see the inspiration in the eyes of men of the Office. It gives them hope. The anax’s son and the mighty sage that slew the Assanaten magus have a plan. Father doesn’t dare to take that away.”

And he’s in no state to fill the gap it would leave, she thought.

Memnostis had always been prone to debauchery. Yet, until today he had it under control. His appetites had been balanced by his abilities as a warrior and leader. Not anymore. The death of Ajaxos and Dorios had hit him more deeply than anybody besides Delia could see. Ajaxos had been his sword, Dorios his heir. It had unbalanced him greatly.

It had been the attack on the palace that had pushed him over the edge. Memnostis was afraid. Afraid for his life. Afraid to lose his rule. He didn’t want to go out there and fight the Assanaten. And anybody who was trying to make him was a threat.

Delia put her hand on her brother’s chest. He looked down at her expectantly, waiting for her to give him advice. She would have to protect him as best as she could. For her own sake as much as for his.

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“I will talk to father,” she said. “I think I can convince him not to hand the girl over to mistress Bel’Sara before master Mar’Doug and you had an opportunity to speak before the great council.”

Delios's expression lightened. If his sister said she could convince the anax, he believed her.

Delia increased the pressure on his chest a little to emphasize her next words. “During the council, you must accomplish two things. First, you must convince the basileis. If the majority supports master Mar’Doug’s plan, father cannot act against them. Second, the plan must necessitate that father stays back in the city. Do you understand, brother?”

Delios looked down at her, his expression confused. It was understandable. He thought Memnostis needed to be convinced to lead his warriors against the Assanaten. Even after seeing him, he couldn’t guess how much their father had changed.

When she didn’t explain further, he opened his mouth but closed it again without saying anything. Over the years, he had come to trust her judgment.

“There is only so much I can do for you,” Delia said. “Convincing the council is up to you.”

Delios nodded slowly. “I am not sure how to go about that.”

Delia retracted her hand and turned to the door. “Talk to master Mar’Doug. But don’t give away too much.”

Delios’ head snapped up. “Oh, right! I must go now, or I will be late for the Daily Standup.”

Delia didn’t ask. It had to be another thing the sage had introduced. She had her own tasks waiting for her.

“Then let’s go together,” she said.

The siblings walked the corridors of the palace side by side in silence, each of them thinking about the challenges of the day ahead.

Delia read the people they passed. It wasn’t something she had to focus on. Her Gift didn’t allow her not to see.

There was tension in the air. The enemy might still be on the other side of the mountains but the attack on the palace - losing people they’d known all their lives - had made the threat real.

But there was also a grim confidence. A hope. It was stronger in some than in others. And the confident greeted her brother with true respect.

They are greeting Delios, not the anax’s son.

These were men and women involved in the Office’s work. Delia kept the smile on her lips. It had been time for her brother to step out of Dorios’ shadow.

When they stepped outside, walking along the colonnade next to the training ground, Delia realized that she’d followed Delios almost all the way. She was about to turn around when she spotted the girl, Atissa working with Jenos.

“Delios, what is the girl doing over there?” she asked.

“Hm?” Torn from his thoughts, Delios turned his head.

At that moment, Jenos jumped forward, reaching out for Atissa. Instead of evading the attack by moving backward, she stepped forward and dropped under her opponent’s arms.

To Delia’s untrained eyes, it looked like she’d fallen under Jenos’ feet, about to be trampled. But a heartbeat later, the much larger man stumbled and fell forward, catching himself with his outstretched arms in the last moment.

He tried to pull his feet under him presumably to get back up but Atissa wouldn’t let him.

Using both her arms and leg, she kept Jenos off-balanced while rolling through his legs. When she came up behind him, she pulled something from her belt. She executed a few swift movements that looked like cuts, targeting the inside of his leg, ending with a stab under his tunic.

The veteran warrior sacked to his knees while Atissa jumped backward, out of reach.

“Good,” Jenos said. “It was more fluent this time.” He came back to his feet, nodding to the girl.

“Focus on being fluent,” he said while Atissa relaxed her posture. “If you move fluently, speed comes on its own. The cuts to the legs cripple your opponent and the stab to the groin will make him bleed to death quickly. Lots of blood flowing through here.” He pointed below his belly and grinned.

Atissa nodded, listening intently to the martial teacher.

“They are working on the grappling technics master Mar’Doug teaches,” Delios said beside Delia. “A lot of the warriors are fascinated with them. Jenos and master Mar’Doug train every day now.” He waved to the warrior who bowed and came their way. “Jenos and I have to report on our progress.”

Delia smiled in place of a goodbye, her mind still focused on the girl from the mountains. After a moment of hesitation, she crossed the training ground to join her.

Atissa was standing in front of a table with all kinds of equipment. There were real blades as well as wooden replicas for training, scabbards, and clubs.

“That was impressive,” Delia said smiling.

“Thank you,” Atissa said. “I still have much to learn.”

Frustration.

“It looked like you handled yourself quite well,” Delia said. “I have never seen such movements. Our wrestlers’ matches usually end when one pins the other to the ground. You brought Jenos down by…letting yourself fall between his legs?”

Atissa turned to the table, fingering something looking like a leather wrist guard.

“He let me do it,” she said. “For training. If he wanted to, he could stop me easily.”

“Because he knows what you are about to do,” Delia said. “I am sure it would surprise most people. What master Mar’Doug teaches seems to be different from the way Helcenaean wrestle.”

Atissa shook her head. “He says that most grappling is similar. It’s just that most people stop after throwing or pinning their opponent. In his style, the match continues on the ground until somebody gives up or can’t continue. He says, it's only because nobody here knows much about ground fighting, that he wins most of the time.”

“And he teaches you how to do the same? You must feel very honored.”

Shame.

Even somebody without Delia’s Gift could have read the young girl. Growing up in the mountains she’d probably never learned to hide her emotion.

To her own surprise, Delia wondered what that must have been like. The environment they’d grown up in could not have been more different.

“You seem conflicted about something,” Delia said carefully. “Don’t you think you are doing well?” She’d seen these feelings in Atissa ever since the night of the attack. Since she’d been knocked out by one of the Assanaten warriors. Did this girl really expect to challenge grown men in combat? The thought was ridiculous. You’re even shorter than me.

“I don’t know,” Atissa said. “It seems like everybody is doing…something.” She waved in the direction of the Office. “I’m just…” She fell quiet, looking down at the wrist guard in her hand.

“You are learning,” Delia said. “Preparing yourself. I am sure master Mar’Doug would not spend so much time teaching you if he did not believe it worth it.”

Atissa looked up. Mentioning the sage had steered her mind in another direction. Delia had wondered about their relationship before. Most people were at least somewhat intimidated by his status, his strangeness. Not so Atissa. She looked at the sage with the trust and familiarity of a family member.

“Did you…. Did you ever…,” Atissa said.

“Yes?”

“Did you ever wonder…where your place is?” Atissa asked. Her face told Delia that she was unhappy with the way she’d phrased the question.

“Do you know what I mean?” Atissa asked. “Like in…things. In the world.”

Interesting, Delia thought. But maybe not surprising from somebody who had been told that she was supposed to be a prophesied champion of the gods.

How should she play this? Looking down at the younger girl’s earnest face, she decided to go with honesty. “No. Never.”

“Oh…ok.”

“You see, I was never given a choice,” Delia said. “That is the same for most people. You are born in a place, in a family. That and the gods dictate your fate.”

“What would you want to do? If you could choose, I mean.”

“I would want to marry. And have a family.” The words were out before Delia could stop herself. Was it Atissa’s earnest face? It felt too comfortable talking to her.

Atissa looked towards the mountains, pondering. “In the valley, all the girls my age are already married.” She shook her head. “I always wanted to get out. To travel and see the world. See Riadnos.” She smiled at Delia.

“And now that you are here”, Delia said, “you can think about nothing else but going back.” She was grateful that Atissa didn’t wonder why the anax’s daughter wasn’t married at her advanced age. “You are worried about your friends and want to do something.”

Atissa nodded.

Seeing that she had established enough rapport, Delia placed her hands on the younger girl’s shoulder. “You must be patient and learn. My father’s first warrior, Ajaxos, always spoke about how twenty well-trained men could break a hundred.” Ajaxos had referred to raiding and looting fishing villages and farms but that needed not to be mentioned to Atissa. “Do you mind showing me what you have there?”

Atissa smiled. She held up the wrist guard and pulled a thin copper knife from it.

“It’s an idea we came up with,” she said proudly. “I’m fast but much weaker than the men. Even if I get into a good position, I’m often not strong enough to break a limp or hold a strangle. With these”, she held up the double-edged knife, “I can cut their tendons and major blood carriers before they get a hold of me.”

“Interesting,” Delia said. “Jenos is teaching you how to use a blade?”

“No, my uncle taught me,” Atissa said. “People are really no different from wild pigs.”