Delios glanced over to his sister. She stood in the back of the group of priests and scribes, at the anax’s side.
How am I doing, sister?
At that moment he wished he shared her Gift. Delia considered it a burden but standing in front of three dozen basileis and war leaders, the ability would have been invaluable.
Noticing the slight frown on Delia’s expression, he quickly looked away. It was a rule cast in bronze, never to steer attention to his sister.
Letting his gaze wander from man to man, even he could see that his words had an impact. He could empathize with their reaction. The feeling of futility. Jenos and I had the same reaction, he thought.
Master Mar’Doug had asked them many questions, encouraging them to imagine themselves leading the Assanaten army. Then to go back and think of the Helcenaean reaction. If the Assanaten really proceeded in the way Delios had laid out, it would be like wrapping a rope around your opponent until he couldn’t move anymore before strangling him with the last arm’s length.
“It comes down to this,” Delios said. “If we let the enemy come down from the mountains, we rely on them to make a mistake we can exploit. Yet they have the example of the last war, to teach them caution.”
“So, what is the alternative?” Menos asked. “Send an army into the mountains?” He didn’t bother to hide his derision anymore. That discussion had been had. Attacking was futile.
Stay calm, Delios thought. They’d prepared well. It was now on him to lead the council to the same conclusions they’d reached.
“What would the Assanaten do if we send an army through the mountains?” he asked his audience.
“Shower us with stones and arrows!” Menos said. “And laughter.” He stood up. “Anax”, he said, ignoring Delios, “why do you let this boy waste the time of this council? He has talked much but we have learned nothing new.”
The attention of the hall turned to the man sitting in the elevated chair. Delios held his breath. If Memnostis wanted to shut him down, this was the moment. Even Delia had been unable to predict what he would do.
The anax wanted to stay in power, whatever the price. Even if that meant becoming a subject of the Assanaten empire. They had to convince him that there was a better way than barricading himself into Riadnos to negotiate from the top of the walls.
Memnostis tilted his head. His gaze wandered from the basileus over the audience. “Menos”, he finally said, “you are too impatient. I think we all want to hear what Delios has to say.” He pointed at his son. “But don’t dawdle.”
Delios bowed his head. “Thank you, anax.” Turning back to his audience, he reminded himself again to stay calm. Looking over to the men from the homeland, he decided to take a chance.
“Acanthos”, he said, addressing the young leader, “imagine you are an Assanaten war leader.” The young warrior frowned but Delios quickly continued. “You have your scouts all over the mountains. One day they report that those Helcenaean are sending an army. What do you do?”
Acanthos hesitated, exchanging looks with his neighbors. “I go and meet them in battle,” he said shrugging.
“Ah, but remember”, Delios said, “you are a sly and honorless barbarian. You just want to win as cheaply as possible.”
Delios prayed that he was right about Acanthos’ character. The man was proud, but he’d also shown a playfulness in the way he’d nettled Menos throughout the debate. Delia wouldn’t have to guess, he thought.
Acanthos' frown slowly turned into a grin. “Oh, of course. Cowardly as I am, I would pull back. I would prepare a defense and let those Helcenaean come to me. Maybe I would even set up a trap for them.” He leaned back, looking thoughtful. “No, being the honorless bastard that I am, I would definitely have a trap. Maybe a wine amphora on a pitfall. Those Helcenaean barbarians never appreciated the taste of rotten grain as sophisticated people do.”
A low laughter rang through the hall. Even some of the men standing behind Menos smiled. It was hard to escape the young leader’s charisma.
“And how does that help us?” Menos said. He was becoming impatient. “We already knew we cannot reconquer the valley. We would lose more warriors than that place had inhabitants before the Assanaten came!”
“No,” Delios said. “I want to build a wall up in the mountains. A defense like the seawall. The advance on the Half-Moon Valley would just be a feint to buy us time.”
Silence spread as the men gapped at him.
Only very few had known about master Mar’Doug’s suggestion before this moment and most of them weren't present. Even Acanthos was speechless.
“That is ridiculous,” one of the costal basileis said.
Delios shook his head. “It is not. Of course, I am not suggesting building a wall across the entire mountain range.” He waved in the general direction. “There is a pass less than a day’s hike from the foot of the mountain. It is a place you must come through. If we build a defense, there the enemy has no choice but to engage us.”
“I know the place you speak of.”
All heads turned toward the far end of the hall. It was Bellancos. The basileus from one of the villages close to the mountains was probably the oldest person in the hall. So far, he’d sat quietly, observing the proceedings.
Bellancos' hand stroked his white beard, his eyes fixed on Delios. “Delios is right. You cannot easily bypass that spot. Not with a large host. And there is a lake there. You won’t find many water sources that high.”
“Bellancos”, the anax said, “you know the mountains and the route to the Half-Moon Valley. Tell us, can it be done?”
The old man looked down, considering the question. He took his time, before shaking his head. “It is a good place. But there is no material there. You reach the pass on the descent from the first peak. It is still above the tree line.” He continued to stroke his beard.
“Maybe you could bring logs up there and build a palisade,” another man said.
“No,” Bellancos said. “The ground is too hard to sink the posts in.” He looked up at Delios. “The place where you would have to build your defense…the lake would be on the other side. On the Assanaten side. We wouldn’t have access to it if they sat the palisade on fire.”
Acanthos crossed his arms. “If the Assanaten hold the lake, we would have to bring up water for our men?”
Bellancos nodded. The old basileus was the anax’s man. As such he would want to support his son. Speaking against his plan couldn’t be comfortable for him.
Delios waited patiently. He wanted his listeners to bring up their concerns now. The clearer their understanding of the challenge ahead was, the more convincing master Mar’Doug and he would be once they laid out their plan.
“So”, Menos said grimly, looking up to Memnostis, “how does your son want to build a palisade in the mountains that can withstand repeated assaults?”
Before the anax could reply, Delios stepped forward. “With your permission, I would like to request master Mar’Doug to join us.”
“That sage nobody has heard about before?” Menos asked suspiciously.
Delios didn’t react to him but spoke to the entire room. “As you have heard, master Mar’Doug was the one who brought us warning of the imminent Assanaten attack and who struck down the magus that led the nightly assault on the palace. What you don’t know yet is that since then, he has shared many secrets with us that will have Riadnos and its allies prosper in the future. He gave us a method to build a stone wall in the mountains.”
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The audience started whispering.
Delios suppressed a smile. Wherever the room stood right now, whether they believed what he suggested could be done or not, a magus sharing secret knowledge was something they wouldn’t be able to turn away from. Even Menos returned to his chair, looking unsure.
Memnostis waved to a servant. “Ask the sage if he can join the council.”
The servant bowed and hurried off. To bridge the time the anax had refreshments distributed. As per tradition, the wine was strongly watered to allow the men to keep a clear head during the council.
Less than five minutes later the servant returned. “Master Mar’Doug is here.”
A slight frown appeared on Memnostis' forehead. “Then ask him in.”
Why didn’t he just come in with the servant? Delios thought. The answer became apparent to him when the hall fell audibly quieter as most eyes followed the servant toward the entrance.
When master Mar’Doug stepped through the door, he had the attention of the entire council. And it was a great entrance.
He wore his foreign jacket, made from material that was supposedly smoother than skin, over a long tunic that reached to his ankles. His grooming was as immaculate as always. Clean-shaven, wearing his hair short on the sides and slightly longer on top, his age was hard to guess. He projected the dignity of an older man while his skin betrayed none of the signs of somebody who had seen more than thirty summers.
Most eye-catching was the staff, the symbol of a magus, he carried in his right hand. As he came closer, the men could make out the carvings. Symbols of dozens of gods, some known to every child, some already lost to history, decorated the upper third of the old wood. A true sage.
A diverse group of people followed the master in a respectful distance. They stopped before entering the area between the gathered leaders, not to obscure anybody’s view. Only the sage came all the way to stand in front of the anax. He bowed his head slightly in greeting. “I am honored.”
“Master Mar’Doug”, Memnostis said, bowing his head in the same manner, “thank you for joining us.”
“The council has heard the idea to build a wall to block the mountain pass,” Delios said. “They have doubt if something like this is possible in the short time we have.”
Master Mar’Doug listened and nodded. “Doubt is the appropriate reaction. May I address the council?” he asked, displaying his refined manners, more appropriate for an imperial court than a Helcenaean war council.
The anax waved, giving his consent.
“Council members”, master Mar’Doug said, raising his voice, “on request of the anax, I have been working with Delios on a plan to defend this city against the Assanaten invasion. We spoke to many experienced men during that time. We spoke to warriors - veterans of the last war. We spoke to merchants and scholars, trying to learn more about the Assanaten ways of war. We spoke to the scribes and priests to learn about Riadnos’ food supply.” He made a small pause, giving the audience time to process his list.
“The conclusion was clear. If the Assanaten bring a sizable force into this valley, the chances for a favorable outcome are slim to none.” He held up his index finger. “They excel in field battles, having a history of beating larger forces. And here they will most likely be superior in numbers.” He raised a second finger. “If you fall back to the city, they can trap you and take their time with the siege. Taking the seawall from the rear will allow them to supply themselves via the sea route from Piro, as well as from the countryside, while Riadnos slowly starves.” The ring finger came up. “The Assanaten have no history of keeping local rulers in place. According to the merchants, they always install their own people. After massacring a sizable portion of the population to ensure submission, that is.” He paused again, walking a couple of steps into the center of the room.
“I am sure you are aware of these grim facts,” he said, meeting the eyes of the assembled leaders.
But we will repeat them anyway, to hammer them home, Delios thought. In his estimation, he’d done well. But compared to the sage he clearly lacked in oratory skills. Master Mar’Doug seemed to speak and move in front of his audience with the same ease and routine Jenos displayed when going through a spear drill.
“How do we keep them out of the valley?” Master Mar’Doug asked. “How do we put the brave Helcenaean warriors in a position where they cannot just challenge, but beat superior numbers of Assanaten?” He pointed upwards. “How do we build a defensive wall up there in the mountains in any reasonable amount of time?”
Master Mar’Doug took his time, but the men hung on his every word. Even the grim-looking Menos kept quiet.
It was understandable. Challenging the anax’s son, who hadn’t made a name for himself was one thing. Offending a powerful magus, a sage, something entirely different. Even if you won the argument, it wasn’t worth having curses, collected from a hundred different peoples, thrown at you and your descendants later.
“Wood burns too easily,” the sage said, answering his own questions. “A clay wall would have to be very thick, or the enemy will just break through. It would take too much time and material to build such a wall. The same is true for a wall made from blocks of limestone like the powerful walls of Riadnos.” He shrugged. “We need a wall that is as strong as stone, so it does not have to be too thick, yet that is as easy and quick to build as a clay wall.”
Before any of the attendants could say anything, master Mar’Doug gestured toward the group at the other end of the hall. A nervous-looking Siria and the two men they’d sent to Rehala’s Mount stepped forward. Siria held up a basket. The sage reached inside and retrieved a grey cube identical to the one presented at yesterday’s Daily Standup.
“This is called concrete,” master Mar’Doug said, holding up the cube. “It is essentially man-made stone.” He turned around to present the cube to the anax while Delios retrieved two more cubes from Siria’s basket. He handed one to Menos and the other to Acanthos.
“Please have a look and then hand it to the next man,” Delios said.
Acanthos studied the cube in fascination, running his fingers over the sides. “It is hard. How did you carve such smooth surfaces from a stone as hard as this?”
“It wasn’t carved, but pressed into a form like a clay brick,” Delios said.
Acanthos looked up at him, doubt visible on his face.
Delios smiled. “We will show it to you now.”
While they presented Siria’s concrete cubes the other men placed several containers on the ground.
“Concrete is hard as stone,” master Mar’Doug said, addressing the council again. “But it is made by mixing ingredients that are easy to transport.” He gestured towards the containers on the floor. “Please, show them.”
Siria and the two men each picked up a container and walked along the two rows of men, letting them look inside.
“Volcanic ash,” the sage said, pointing at the container one of the men carried. “Volcanic tuff and quicklime won from burning limestone.” He pointed at the other two. “If you mix these materials with a bit of water, the result will be a thick paste that can be pressed into any form.”
Siria and the two men returned to the center of the room and started the mixing process in a small wooden trough. By now they’d gone through the process several times and her hands moved with the certainty of a palace cook.
“This…concrete seems truly as solid as rock,” the anax said, knocking on the cube with his knuckles. “Do you believe you can make a wall from this, master Mar’Doug? Before the Assanaten scouts learn about what you are doing?”
The sage shook his head. “It is indeed possible to build an entire wall from concrete but there is an easier way to use it.” He waved another man forward.
It was one of the palace warriors. A bear of a man, taller even than master Mar’Doug himself. He carried something in front of him that was obscured under a piece of cloth.
Master Mar’Doug removed the cloth and stepped aside.
“A stone?” somebody asked.
“No,” master Mar’Doug said, gesturing the warrior to turn so everybody could see. “Two stones. Stuck together.”
On the sage’s behest, the huge man presented the anax his burden. He was carrying one flat slap of limestone on his forearms. A second stone of a slightly different form stuck beneath it.
The anax reached out touching the thin layer of concrete between the two stones. “It is not falling off,” Memnostis said, clearly fascinated.
“Transporting huge blocks of limestone like the ones Riadnos’ wall are constructed from is a great endeavor.” The sage pointed at the trough with his staff. “But if we use concrete, we can build a wall from small stones like those and reach the same strength.”
“You know the place,” Acanthos said, looking over to Bellancos. “If this wall can truly be built, can we hold the pass against the Assanaten?” There was a glimmer of excitement in the young leader’s eyes.
Bellancos nodded slowly, stroking his beard. “We need to send out light troops to block a smaller trail that leads around it but that can be done.” He looked up. “If the wall can be built in time, we would have a chance. The enemy will send thousands of arrows at us but if we can hold…there is no food up there. No firewood. They will have to bring their supplies all the way from the Half-Moon Valley.”
“Our men know the mountains like the back of their hand,” a man standing behind the basileus said. “We could send out troops to harass their supply groups. Maybe even attack their camp at night.”
Hope and enthusiasm started to bud on one side of the hall. Men threw in comments and suggestions. Acanthos’ mainlanders seemed to be convinced already.
On the other side, the people around Menos exchanged uncertain glances. The basileus himself looked stone-faced, ignoring his supporters’ questioning eyes.
Master Mar’Doug clapped his hands together. The conversations subside immediately.
“We have a way to build a defense,” the sage said. “We have a plan to push the Assanaten back for long enough to do it. A plan that, according to Jenos over here and other veterans, is feasible. That leaves one big challenge.” He paused holding up his index finger. “How to bring all the construction material we need up the mountain. For this undertaking we need this council to mobilize every Helcenaean in this valley. Every man, woman, and child will have to do their part.” He gestured towards the group of servants and officials at the anax’s side and Elaiadoros stepped forward.
The scribe bowed to his ruler. “Anax, with your permission.”
Receiving Memnostis’ nod, Elaiadoros began to lay out the complex supply plan he and half a dozen of his colleagues had helped master Mar’Doug to create.
A long discussion began as they calmly answered the leaders’ many questions. At some point, Delios looked over to his sister. He’d been so engrossed, he hadn't paid any attention to her in a while.
Seeing her standing in the third row, he froze.
Pale-faced, Delia was signing at him.
Danger.