Lycurgus was more or less the one leading the way now, and Obelix was slightly surprised when they ended up standing in his quarry. The fresh snow had fallen upon the dozen or so menhirs that resided there, making them look like great pillars of soft, downy white. Like a forest of elongated snowdrifts, they seemed to guard the place like soldiers at full attention. Loyal and steadfast. It was quiet here, away from the activity of the village's square, which was just beginning to team with early morning life. Now that daylight had fully arrived, the daily chores and business of the village would commence. Unhygienix would be selling his fish. Fulliautomatix would be pounding away at his anvil. And the women would be gossiping away on the paths, their children playing nearby. The sun had cleared the village walls, shining down on the snow, making it blindingly bright. Dogmatix squirmed in Obelix's hands, wanting to be released to romp in this familiar place that they both knew and loved so well. But Obelix was all at once reluctant to let him go. He was still confused, as well as somewhat frightened by Lycurgus's words, and wanted Dogmatix's comforting form in his reach.
Blinking, Obelix gazed around the quarry questioningly. Though he had been planning to bring Lycurgus here at some point in their tour, he was surprised, as well as a little unnerved, to find that the traveler knew right where it was and had found it with no trouble at all.
Lycurgus turned to face him, a smile of curiosity playing upon his face. He seemed pleased with himself, as well as Obelix's dumbfounded expression. As though the whole point in coming here was to show his host that he knew where he lived, and how to get there, just for the sake of making Obelix uneasy. "This is where you work, correct?"
Obelix came to a halt abruptly, feet planted deep in the snow. His eyes grew wide, and he looked genuinely startled. "Y-Yes, but...but how did you know that?"
Lycurgus gave a hearty laugh that echoed in the quarry eerily. "Itylus told me," he hummed, placing his muscular arms over his chest in a stance of perfect ease. He looked about the place with a long, searching gaze, before he brought it back to his guide. "Tell me, where do you get your strength?" There was no hesitation in his voice, just a simple question, as though it were an everyday question that one was used to asking every stranger one came upon.
"G-Get it?" Obelix shifted uncomfortably. The suddenness of the question threw him off guard. He wasn't sure why, but Lycurgus made him terribly uncomfortable. He could now understand Asterix's reluctance to trust the man. Obelix all at once wished that he had not accepted the task of showing Lycurgus around the village. It certainly wasn't worth the tense feeling residing within him now.
"Yes," the traveler intoned, seeming slightly annoyed by his lack in understanding. "Surely you weren't born with it." He moved closer, motioning to the sky above them. "Unusual gifts such as yours are usually bestowed by the gods." He focused his eyes back on Obelix's face, which had also turned to look up at the world above. "Or obtained by magic."
Obelix blinked, then flinched, abruptly gazing back to earth, coming almost face to face with his guest. He backed up a step, made nervous by the close proximity to him, and gave a hurried response. "No. No, I just am. I've always been like this." It was a lie. He knew it was a lie, and Obelix never lied...But right now he didn't care about that. He had had to. Why he had had to, he wasn't certain, but he had. And he wasn't about to change his answer now. His mind echoed with images of him and Asterix sneaking into Getafix's hut, and him, as a little boy, falling into the Magic Potion. The Magic Potion could not be mentioned, not to outsiders. And, though he couldn't give a reason why, especially not to Lycurgus.
"And what of the others?"
Obelix frowned, becoming protective. "What about them?"
"They do not have the strength you do," Lycurgus pressed. "But they contain a hidden strength. Don't they?" He smiled oddly as a look of fear flashed over Obelix's face, and he added a little more. "Oh, but not all the time. Just, when the fancy takes them. Isn't that correct?"
"Who told you that?!" The large Gaul was horrified, afraid that he might be the source of this information. Asterix had warned him, many times. Hundreds of times. 'Obelix, be careful what you tell strangers. It could lead to trouble'. Well, now it seemed it had, and Obelix couldn't help thinking it was all his fault. His hands shook a little, a sensation that was completely new to him.
"Itylus said that you told him such. You were more open with him, why not me?"
"I-I don't know."
"Then tell me what makes them strong."
"I can't. I'm not supposed to."
Lycurgus stood smiling at Obelix a moment, as though processing his words. He was perfectly still, arms folded firmly over his bare chest. He was the very image of strength and determination. Then, with a small chuckle, he turned back to the menhirs around them. "Very well," he assured, "I won't ask again." He walked up to one of the snow covered pillars, brushing a hand over its frosted surface. "So tell me, how do you go about making a large stone like this?"
Obelix's worried frown disappeared, every bit of their previous conversation disappearing in a warm, gentle smile. If there was one thing Obelix loved talking about, it was the one skill he possessed in carving stone. Setting Dogmatix down in the snow, the largest Gaul explained his craft with great enthusiasm.
The cool air felt good to Asterix. It woke him up a bit more, which he appreciated. It had been a long night, and he found his focus and energy was greatly depleted by that fact. After getting some food in his growling stomach, he had felt better; stronger and ready to face the day. Wrapping a scarf about his neck, and placing a woolen mitten on both hands, he had bid his friends in Vitalstitistix's hut goodbye, it being time for him to do his morning stroll. He did it for two reasons, the first being that he had always done it. Every morning and noon he walked the perimeter of the village, and, in the summer, the forest nearby. It was to assure himself that everything was as it should be. Safe. The other reason he did it was because of how it helped him clear his head. As village warrior, he had a lot on his shoulders. And this morning was no exception. The arrival of Lycurgus and his followers weighed heavily on the blond Gaul, making him uneasy, as did his restless night. And so, he decided that taking his usual walk might help clear his mind and ease his heart. But, to his surprise, Getafix followed him out, making it quite clear that the druid wished to walk with him. Asterix had no problem with that. In fact, he was glad for it. He felt there was a little tension between them since their discussion that morning, and Asterix wished to clear that up as well.
They left the Chieftain's hut and made their way to the gate, so that Asterix could check the great wooden beams that kept it secured, and make sure that no one lurked outside their walls. Asterix had always done it, ever since he had first become village warrior, but the severity and seriousness in which he took it had grown since the incident with Mastix. And Getafix could not blame him for it. He too had felt the need to put up a series of small alarm spells, designed to let the druid know when someone other than a villager entered their home.
The two friends walked in silence, and that silence continued as they arrived at the gate. Asterix gripped the wooden beams with both, gloved hands and gave a firm push and pull. The gate remained solid and unmoving, just as it was supposed to do. Then Asterix turned and ascended the ladder to the right, coming to stand at the top, stiff with attention as he scanned his eyes over the forest line. He stayed like that for several minutes, perfectly still. Getafix watched him from below, a mix of fondness and worry blooming in him. He cared for Asterix a lot, just as he did all the villagers. He had known them since they were children, and, in a way, he knew some of them better than they knew themselves. But Asterix was always a mystery. Just when Getafix though he had seen all there was of the short Gaul's character, something would happen and leave Getafix in awe. Asterix was like an ever changing river. The longer you followed it, the further you traveled down its unknown course. The more you discovered, the more you realized you had far more to understand about him.
Asterix slid down the ladder again, satisfied that all was well outside and around the village. He landed on his feet with a light thump, before resuming his place alongside the druid. Getafix followed him, studying him. As they neared one of the several smaller, hidden gates in the wall, Getafix decided it was time to start a conversation. It was obvious that Asterix wasn't going to start one himself, lost in thought as he was.
"You are very quiet this morning, Asterix," the druid observed, pausing as Asterix tested the first hidden gate. It was a small, wooden structure, one that relied more on its invisibility than its strength. Only one latch kept outsiders from getting in, but they hardly ever had to worry about that. The reputation the Gauls had gained over the years was more than enough to keep away any unwanted company. Or, at least, most unwanted company.
Asterix checked the latch, secretly happy to find that the ice had sealed the door firmly. He reasoned only Obelix would be strong enough to break it, without the effects of the Magic Potion. "Yes. I suppose I am." He said it lowly, as though he really didn't want to mention it, but Getafix persisted.
"Anything you wish to discuss?"
Asterix paused, not looking at his friend, but instead fixing his gaze at the base of the frozen door. He felt like they had gone through this before. Though, it was far more than just Lycurgus now. This had to do with far more, and Asterix knew that. But he didn't want to admit it. Half of him didn't, but the other half wanted help, and soon. He wasn't sure how long he could keep up the act. An act, apparently, that he wasn't doing that good of a job of projecting. "Nothing that hasn't already been said." He winced at his own words, mumbling his next words before he even thought them through. "Except I..."
Getafix raised a bushy eyebrow. "Except? Except what?"
Asterix tucked his hands under his arms, moving on to the next gate, eyes still focused on the ground, and Getafix trailing behind. "No. Never mind, it's nothing."
Getafix looked up sharply, stopping and laying a hand on Asterix's shoulder to halt him as well. He bent over slightly, so they were closer in height. "Asterix," he said in a stern voice, "if there is one thing I know after all my years of knowing you, it is that when there is an 'except' in your mouth, there is most certainly never a 'nothing' to follow." His expression softened. "What is bothering you? Is it what I said earlier? If so, I am truly sorry."
"No," Asterix said quickly, not wanting to cause more tension between them. He would never want that. "No, it's not that...exactly. I just..." Asterix's eyes looked hesitant, and he seemed to shrink in on himself, making him even smaller. His next words were soft, almost whispered. "Getafix, I had a nightmare last night." He was ashamed of that fact. He had tried so hard to go back to normal, not just for his sake, but for the sake of his friends. He knew they worried, and he didn't want them to. He wanted to be the same, independent Asterix he had always been. Not some traumatized warrior that lost sleep over a few bad dreams. But he couldn't seem to help it. And it hurt him. Especially since he knew, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hide it. The others knew. Getafix knew; Asterix could see in his face right now that he did. But no one, save Obelix, ever asked him. They didn't want to embarrassed him. They didn't want to baby him. Getafix wanted to hear it from Asterix without prompting, and it had been a long wait, but now Asterix was feeling ready to talk.
Getafix nodded slowly, removing his hands slowly from the little Gaul's shoulders and straightening up to his full height. "A nightmare?" He began walking, leading the way to the next gate himself. He knew that this subject wouldn't be easy for Asterix, and moving at a steady pace might help calm his nerves, which were obviously very tense. He was glad to see Asterix follow. "Hmm. I expect it has something to do with our visitors," he began simply. "They're making us all on edge. Most of all you." He sent Asterix a sideways glance, noticing that the Gaul was still gazing at the snow at his feet as he walked. "Your Soul Light is still intact after our last..." He struggled for the right word. "Adventure. But that doesn't mean it wasn't...bruised."
Asterix looked up at him in confusion, his logical thinking the druid knew so well kicking into full gear. "Bruised? Getafix, how can something that I can't feel or see be bruised?"
Getafix chuckled, before stopping by the second gate. Asterix came to a halt as well, but was now too engaged to focus on the task at hand. "But you can feel it, can't you?" the druid asked, pointing to Asterix's chest, still not entirely sure where his Inner Light was located. "I've been doing a fair amount of studies on Solas Anam since five months ago, based off of the books the Venerable Druid sent me. Come now, Asterix, how does it feel within you now as opposed to before?"
Asterix was silent a moment. He still had a hard time believing that he was different than his fellow Gauls. Not different in anything normal, other than some sort of gift or power that he possessed. They had all witnessed the extent of that power, but that had been under unusual circumstances. On an average, normal day, it really only provided Asterix with a strong sense of intuition. A sixth scent, one might say. Asterix could feel it though, as Getafix said. It was like a warm settlement within him, that he knew he would miss were it ever to leave him. He had almost lost it before, and had almost died as a result. But now he knew where it was, at least relatively so. And he could feel its condition. It was always easier to feel something when it was sore.
Asterix sighed. "...Bruised."
Getafix nodded approvingly. "Precisely. Just as one can have physical scars or mental scars, a person can experience a sort of, I guess you could call it, a soul scar. It's closely related to one's mind, but more connected to one's personality."
"Great."
Getafix chuckled again; a soft, reassuring sound. He moved forward, checking the second gate himself and finding it frozen shut like the first. "Don't worry, it isn't permanent. Like all scars, they fade."
"But never truly go away," the short Gaul mumbled miserably. His tone caused the druid's spirit to sink a little, but continued before Getafix could comment. "But Getafix, I feel something will happen. Something bad. And now...Now I can't even trust my own feelings? What if we've made a terrible mistake? Or what if I'm the one making all the mistakes? Or what if it's all just in my head." The last part was more of a frustrated statement than a question, and muttered under a tight breath of air. Asterix was truly worried, and terribly confused. It was like being lost in some dense forest, with no stars to guide by. No way to find out where one stood, or in what direction one needed to go. Asterix hated it, and he didn't hate very many things. Sometimes he wasn't sure whether being a Solas Anam was a gift or a curse.
Getafix, on the other hand, seemed more sure of his path at the moment. "Good. Those are the questions you should be asking." He flinched at the look of helpless frustration that the Gaul gave him. "I know it's confusing, and a little painful, but some healing is like that. That is what I was trying to say earlier. I am not saying we should trust Lycurgus, he is a dreadful fellow, and I will be relieved the day he and his followers exit through our gates. But we cannot condemn them based on a feeling. Just as we could not have banished Mastix from our gates based on a feeling."
Asterix shook his head, stubbornly. "But that was different."
"Was it?"
Asterix thought back to that dreadful day. Mastix, disguised as a harmless, old woman, had met up with him and Obelix in the woods, saying that 'she' needed shelter. Being hospitable, despite feelings he had not yet been able to explain, Asterix had brought the 'old woman' back to the village. From then on his bad feelings had grown. But it had been irrelevant then. If he had spoken up, who would have believed that the visitor was a threat? What would they have done, thrown the 'old woman' out into the dark of night? Of course not. Sometimes things couldn't be said, especially when they were based off of something that had no reason or proof behind it. It wasn't until Mastix had attacked, and revealed himself as an enemy, that those feelings even became useful. All in all, Getafix was right. Again Asterix let out a sigh. "No. No, I suppose it wasn't."
The druid gave his shoulder a pat of encouragement. "Keep searching your Soul Light, Asterix. It will all become clear to you eventually. Things will go back to normal."
"Do you really think so, Getafix?" He looked up into the druid's face, looking all the world like a hopeful child.
Getafix had his doubts, but he firmly pushed them aside. He would not answer a growing hope with a dowsing fear. He smiled, tilting Asterix's helmet forward so that the Gaul had to push it back to see. "Yes. Yes, I do."
Asterix laughed, readjusting his helm. His eyes had lost the darkness that had been there all morning, finally shining bright like they usually did. "Then that's good enough for me," he beamed.
"Good," Getafix grinned, moving onward through the snow, white collecting on his shoes and tunic. "Now, let's go finish up your rounds so that we can go find Obelix and our guest."
It didn't take very long after that to check the gates, now that they had gotten all their thoughts and problems out in the open. Asterix, for one, felt much better, and was actually able to enjoy the sunny day that had blossomed around them. Even though each gate was found to be frozen solid, Asterix still checked, not wanting carelessness to cause a problem later on. They finished the task fairly quickly, coming upon Obelix's hut shortly after. Finding that their friend was not inside, Asterix suggested heading out to the quarry, seeing as Obelix would probably want to show off his craftsmanship. His assumption proved correct as they rounded the cottage and were immediately greeted by a happily yipping Dogmatix. He disappeared into the deep drifts of snow with every leap he took, barking in joy. He finally made it to Asterix and the Gaul lifted him up, receiving a lick on the nose as payment.
"Hello, Dogmatix!" the Gaul chuckled in greeting, feeling the cold air brush against the now wet spot on his face. He tucked the pup between his mittened hands, hoping to supply some warmth that the dog could momentarily enjoy. It was a crisp morning, but, again, the sun seemed to warm the air slightly, making it seem much more pleasant.
Walking forward and down into the quarry, Asterix and Getafix soon spied their friend and their guest. Asterix felt a sense of relief wash over him at the sight, only just now realizing how worried he had been.
Getafix led the way, coming to stop beside the two men. "Hello there, Obelix. Lycurgus."
Lycurgus gave the slightest of bows, a sign of respect, as was due any druid. Any good druid. He was all smiles, having obviously enjoyed his tour, becoming slightly more animated than before, but without losing his grace and solidity. "Greetings, Druid. Your friend here was just showing me around the comforts of his quarry. He's a man of many talents." His tone was approving, but Asterix thought he saw Obelix flinch slightly.
"That's Obelix for you," the shortest Gaul replied fondly, before adding teasingly to his friend, "Hamming it up, eh?"
Obelix seemed strangely agitated, giving a nervous shrug rather than the playful comeback Asterix had been expecting. "He wanted to see how I get my work done."
"A very unique trade, I will admit," the traveler continued. "Interesting objects, these menhirs. One would think that one could only sell one every so often. Seeing as it takes them so long to ware down. Which, by the way, leads me to ask, what are they for?"
Obelix blinked, seeming to react to the question more strongly than normal. He had been questioned by Lycurgus so intensely, and so uncomfortably, that now any question, harmless or no, that came from the visitor's mouth felt like a needle in his chest. "F-For?"
"Yes, what purpose do they serve?" Lycurgus's eyes glinted in some strange form of merriment. He could see Obelix's distress, which neither Asterix nor Getafix seemed to sense.
Obelix swallowed. "I suppose they serve whatever purpose one wants. They've got tons of uses, to be sure." Just what, he didn't know. No one had ever told them they were useless. And, after years of selling them, he kept having customers, so they must be used for something. He had never really given it much thought. He had learned the trade from his father, no questions asked. Wasn't that what one was supposed to do? Learn from an elder and carry on the work?
Lycurgus's continence became slightly less approving. "Indeed."
Asterix looked between the two, a feeling of uneasiness rising within him. But it was weak, not the strong urge that he got when danger lurked, so he ignored it. He faced their visitor. "If you're done with your tour of our village, Lycurgus, many of your followers have gathered in Vitalstitistix's hut. Nearly all of them are looking to speak with you, and they're a bit short on patience." And that was putting it mildly.
Lycurgus barely gave Asterix a glance. In fact, had the news not actually been of any value to him, he might not have answered at all. "I will speak with them," was the stiff reply. He began to stride in that direction, without so much as a parting sentence. The two Gauls and their druid watched curiously, not used to such behavior. Everyone they had ever met, good or bad, always said something before leaving a conversation. Lycurgus, it would seem, was the exception to that rule.
Asterix felt he should at least offer his assistance. Cupping his hands to his mouth he called to the man, who was now nearly to Obelix's hut. "Need any help finding your way back?!" There was no response, and a moment later Lycurgus was out of sight. Asterix shrugged. "...I guess not."
"One more day among these weaklings and I shall put them all out of their misery!"
One of Lycurgus's men flinched at the volume of his companion's voice. "Shhh, not so loud, they'll hear."
The first who had spoken rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up! They're all gone. We're alone. They've all gone to do business elsewhere. Annoying little things." He spat out his sentences aggressively, lounging back against the wall of Vitalstitistix's hut. One man beside him, sipping at a glass of beer given him by the Gaulish Chieftain's wife, gave an arrogant huff.
"Huh. Well, at least you didn't have to sleep in the tree cottage with their so-called bard."
"What of him?"
He sneered. "Fool's gone and caught a cold." His voice held no pity. "Coughed nearly all night long. I couldn't barely catch any sleep." He smirked cruelly, a sparkle in his eyes. "I even considered throwing him from the platform!"
"Yeah?" another traveler growled, chewing a piece of bread with his mouth open, teeth bared in annoyance. "Well, the Misses of the blacksmith snores something terrible! I tell you, boys, we need to get out of this place! It's getting to me!" He grabbed the beer of the man beside him and took a noisy slurp.
"You'll do no such thing."
Beer shot out of the man's mouth as he nearly choked. All eyes jumped to the entryway, where a tall figure, large and imposing, stood in solid shadow. The man who had spoken last stuttered over his words, knowing that he had displeased their leader. And doing that was no small thing. Nor was it particularly safe. "L-Lycurgus! O Great One, we didn't hear you come in!" He wiped beer from his short, well-groomed beard, as though trying to erase his offence from his lips.
Lycurgus stepped into the hut fully, shutting the door with a firm slam. His eyes were fierce, focused on the man as though to bore into his very soul. "Obviously, or you wouldn't be talking betrayal behind my back."
The man's face turned ashen. "B-Betrayal?"
Their leader walked slowly in among them. No one moved. "What are you? Weak?" His voice was sickeningly sweet. "Can't handle a few, measly Gauls?"
"No, sir, we just-"
"Idiots!" He grabbed the mug of beer and threw it aside, making his men jump. "Don't you see? We have hit upon our place. Our Lacedaemon. We have searched too long for it, and I will not allow your cowardice to strip me of it now!" His eyes flitted from one face to another, daring one to speak at the risk of his wrath. One fellow, less intimidated than the rest, scowled in his direction.
"There is nothing here of value," he insisted, still lounging carelessly, instead of at tense attention like the rest of his colleagues. "All we see is snow, ice, huts, and men who are so weak that the very wind could take them out!"
Lycurgus turned on him slowly, his eyes calculating. This was Achates, a newer member of their group. He had yet to see what his master was capable of. "Did Itylus not spread word of his discovery?" Lycurgus demanded, sending his Right Hand a look that implied he would be in trouble if he had not done as he was instructed.
"Of the Gaul's hidden strength?" Achates inquired haughtily. "Yes, he told us of it."
"And you do not believe?"
The man shrugged, a rugged smile spreading across his face. "We need a little more convincing." He barely had time to blink before he found himself slammed up against the wall, the air knocked from his lungs and a strong hand on his throat restricting his breathing.
"If it would not ruin our plans I would kill you where you stand, Achates," Lycurgus growled, low and dangerous. He tightened his grip. "Your watered-down blood would stain this floor and you would never gain any honor from battle again. You are weak!" He released the man, allowing him to breath once more. Achates sunk to the base of the wall, gasping and rubbing his throat ruefully as his leader continued. "This place is touched by magic. I can feel it. It was meant for us to come here; the gods are for us. All we need do is take it for ourselves. To throw away our doubts and weakening fears. We will take this home as our own!"
"Which should be easy," Itylus spoke up, glad that he had not been the recipient of his lord's anger. "With a village full of men of so little power, we should win without hardly a fight."
Lycurgus gave a deep chuckle, all rage now gone from him. He shook his head at his men's ignorance. "They do have power, but we shall catch them unaware. It should be simple, as you say. Which leaves only one problem to be solved."
"And what is that, My Lord?"
"The man called Obelix." Lycurgus rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "His strength could stop our plan mid-stride."
Achates stood back to his feet, his attitude now corrected. "He will not side with us?"
Lycurgus frowned. "He will not."
"Do we kill him?" another asked, a smile playing upon his lips. Had he had his blade, he might have licked it with glee.
"There will be no senseless killing!" Lycurgus gave them all a warning glare, indicating that disobedience on this subject would be rewarded with horrific consequences. "We left the days of death and murder behind us. We are free; there's no more need of it. Killing would be fruitless. Not only do I believe it to be virtually impossible in this Gaul's case, but it would only hurt our cause. If the Gauls were to find his dead body, they would become suspicious. That small one, Asterix, already is, I can see it in his eyes. No. We must simply get rid of him in a different manner."
Itylus exchanged looks with the other men. "How?"
"I have already planted seeds of doubt in his mind. All he requires is one final blow, and I believe he will leave of his own accord." Lycurgus nodded, knowing that what he spoke was true. Obelix was very gullible, almost like a child. He had been easily manipulated into believing Lycurgus's words, and a few more should do the trick. All he had to do was play on the man's weakness. And Obelix's greatest weakness was his friends. One friend in particular.
"But where will he go that we can be certain he will not return?"
It was a good question. Obelix might be easy to convince to leave, but that certainly didn't mean he would stay out. He would return, and Lycurgus, reluctant as he was to admit it, knew that his men would never be able to stand against the Gaul's legendary strength. If Obelix got the notion, he could have run them out of the village long ago by the seats of their tunics.
Lycurgus would not allow any man to stand in his way.
An idea came to Itylus. "Why not send him to AbbadÅn in Burdigala. She will take care of him." His smile was uneasy, nervous even. He had come to know Obelix somewhat, and would never have agreed to outright killing him. The Gaul wasn't so bad, really. Just like a very large man with a very young mind. This way, Obelix might have a chance. And, if he didn't make it, Itylus would never know.
Lycurgus smiled, clapping his Right Hand on the back. "Indeed. It will be as you say. Tomorrow, Itylus, you must convince the Gaul, Obelix, to go into the woods."
Itylus tried to hide his disappointment. He did not want to be the one to deceive the fellow. But he knew enough than to argue. "Should I accompany him?"
"No. But his friend, Asterix, must." Their leader smiled knowingly. "Yes. I believe that short fellow will serve some purpose after all. Can you do it?"
"I can, My Lord."
Lycurgus nodded. "Than do so. Tonight, convince his mind of the need. Meet me on the fringe of the forest after he leaves in the morning."
"It will be as you say, My Lord."
And with that, the assembly parted, their plans laid for later that night and early next morning. No killing would be necessary. Lycurgus had forbidden it. He did not want to continue in the ways of his past. These Gauls were weak, and he would deal with them accordingly, harshly if necessary, but peacefully if possible. Peace was his way. Conquer to bring peace. He simply had to remove the obstacles that he knew would not bend to his will.
Then there would be nothing to stop him.
Oh dear, Lycurgus has turned out to be just what Asterix feared he might. At least he doesn't want to murder, so he can't be all evil. But wrong is wrong, whether by evil or by a confused mind. He should leave the Gauls as they are.
But what do you bet he won't? ;)