"Swallowed our pride, have we, oh Great Alexander?" her smile was malicious and insulting for she knew she had the upper hand in these negotiations.
Alexander gave a strained smile, and nodded. "I supposed it would just not be right to continue hating our neighbours to one side whilst having such a close relationship with our German friends on the other."
She lost her smile. It was common knowledge that Bismarck had been unreceptive to her trade agreements for hundreds of years now - it was still a bitter topic.
Instead, she said, "Quite right. Go on then, tell me your proposal."
"1 unit of iron for 1 unit of horses."
"Oh, please. 2 units of iron."
"Then I suppose I'd like a unit of pearls."
"A unit of pearls?! No. 2 units of Iron, from the mines of Sparta in exchange for 1 unit of Horses from the plains of Nottingham."
"Agreed." She raised her eyebrow at his acceptance - apparently she had expected more opposition.
"Send for the scribes," she said to a servant. "I shall have this in writing."
"She played right into our hands - be sure to give notes to the mine owner - we want that iron to be weaker than usual."
"Yes, sir." the guard went to relay the message to a messenger.
Alexander allowed himself a small smile. The first step had been relatively easy, as was expected. The next part was much harder, and was going to take serious planning. Mounting his horse along with his companions, they began the trek back to Athens. Elizabeth didn't know that she had just signed her own death warrant.
They returned in the dead of night a week or so later. Alexander wasted little time with pleasantries once he returned to the palace, calling a meeting with his advisers and ministers as soon as he entered the courtroom.
"As I'm sure you've all heard, the meeting was a resounding success." He glanced around the room, smirking. "For us, at least."
"How do we proceed from here, sir?" an adviser asked.
"Why, do we what we planned to from the start of course. There are reports of a new barbarian camp towards the West. I want you to station as many troops as you can there without arousing suspicion from English spies or merchants. Have them around a week's march from Nottingham."
"I'll relay the order after the meeting, sir."
"Do so, as you please. I'd like reports from you all - let's begin with military."
A well groomed man stood up, his brown beard and powerful build making him tower over the others in the room. When he spoke, it was loud and booming, like a catapult. "Our military is well equipped and in good supply. We have three units of swordsmen, the most we can support without threatening civilian use of iron. Along with those, support units: we have three regiments of Bowmen, and two units of pikemen. Then, siege units: we have thirty trebuchets, split into two units. This is more powerful than the English at the moment, but we are spread thin. The Germans have one unit of swordsmen, three units of spearmen and two units of archers. We can defend our cities, but only one at a time."
The people around the room were generally accepting of this. Having too many units would be a drain on resources with no tangible benefits other than fickle prestige.
"Nerlio?"
"Ah, yes." Nerlia, the economic adviser, shuffled a few papers around in her hand, looking around. "The state's finances are well balanced. We are able to support all of our units and turn a profit still, mainly due to our trade deals with Germany. However, we are still not in a position to take over England without falling into debt."
Again there was little reaction to this - new gold mines were on their way, so the economy was little to worry about at the moment. At least, until a messenger slammed through the door, collapsing on the floor, panting heavily.
"There better be a damn good reason for this interruption!" someone shouted.
The messenger slowly rose and nodded his head, trying to catch his breath. "The...the English are marching on Sparta. They wish to capture our iron mines."
The room went silent for a moment, then exploded into a cacophony of shouting voices.
"SILENCE!" Alexander shouted, louder than the rest combined. "It appears we've been outmanoeuvred."
He shook his head - those damn negotiations had been too easy. They should have seen these coming.
"We must wait for reports from our scouts, and then we will have to attack. Send a missive to Bismarck; we will need his aid. In the meantime, you must all go and prepare your departments for war. Oh, and Hari, we need to get the gem mine back up and running. This war will be costly."
Only once all of them had left did Alexander release his cry of frustration. He sat at his chair with clenched fists, breathing harshly. How - he slammed his fist on to the table -had - bang - he - bang - let - that - bloody - happen? What had seemed cunning and clever on his side was clearly not on Elizabeth's. She must have known that by the time he declared war, she'd have no chance of fighting back. So, she had struck now, whilst she still had a chance to win.
"Bitch." He swore with his head in hands. Sparta was on the brink right now. Without it, the Greeks would lose the war - horses and iron were the staple of a good military, and the English taking it would mean they had naval and land superiority, the latter of which was something that would spell doom for Greece. No, what he needed right now was to talk to Bismarck and start a joint effort to halt the invasion. Then again, Germany's army was weak, and he wasn't sure if they'd be able to help.
If there was one thing that he was sure about, it was that he'd march into London himself, with his army around him. It'd be fun to see Elizabeth's smug face then, when she'd be forced off the throne.
Yeah, it's short asf but it's pretty fun to write so if I'm bored I'll continue to write this. ;)