Disclaimers: See Chapter 1
Additional Note (Please Read): This tale is a companion with, Xena & Gabrielle: A Turn of Fate. If you haven't read both stories' chapters preceding this one, you should do so now. I would like to thank all my amazing readers (even the ones who doesn't feed bards) because that's the kind of person I am. A special thanx to my talented Beta, Jinxie 2013, and those of you whom fav and follow my two tales. Please, continue to take time out of your busy life to indulge my muse, and know that I deeply appreciate y'all for it. :-)
The Conqueror & Ri,
A Twist of Destiny,
By, Ahkiken
Chapter 36: Remuneration
"Seriously, Iona, where are we going?" Gabrielle inquired, becoming wary of the teen as they descended the stairs to the lower section of the castle.
"Jeez, Ri. I assumed you would have an idea by now." She connoted, traversing the corner to the closed, rear kitchen entryway.
'Calm down. Everything is all right.' The Samurai reproved herself for cogitating that Iona was luring her into a trap after seeing a door to an entrance that didn't have the semblance of a dungeon. "I wasn't caviling or anything, but I had no clue you were bringing us here for lunch."
"Surprise." Iona cheered to Gabrielle, putting her hand on the handle, but hesitated to open the door. "I gotta tell you something, Ri. Minya isn't aware of the punishment that befell you by the Chancellor."
Gabrielle became astonished and hopeful to hear that the thespian she hadn't seen since her twentieth birthday in Cyrene's tavern was possibly alive in this world. "Minya..."
"Yeah." Incognizant of Gabrielle's feelings behind the pronouncement of the cook's name, Iona verbalized, "You've made it clear that your private business is yours to expose. Although I did take liberties with apprising Lieutenant Tessa, I didn't tell Minya, because I deduced you wanted to keep it unknown to everybody, including our friends. Did you say anything to her at the Banquet Hall last night?"
Gabrielle was stumped again by another query from Iona. Withal, she was gaining insightful information, the bard remained ignorant of what fully took place the night before in the Hall, anent to Ri and the people who know her. Uncertain of what to really profess, she grokked what Iona had just disclosed. The storyteller seemed to treasure her personal affairs, so perhaps she did not share anything with Minya.
Taking a gamble, Gabrielle asserted, "No, I didn't. And thanks for not divulging it, also."
"You don't have to give me your gratitude, Ri. I'm just glad that you aren't mad at me for telling Tessa. I wouldn't have, but we had a training session and she located me while I was bewailing your confined situation from the letter you had written to me."
"It's alright. I'm sure that you were pained by my troubles, Iona." Gabrielle said, becoming anxious to be introduced to this world's Minya. "Are you ready to go inside?"
"Uh-huh. I'm starving." The teenage girl smiled.
She pulled the handle and they both proceeded to cross the threshold. Entering the cooking area, Gabrielle espied numerous servants dart from one spot to the next. They were all doing contradistinctive tasks that ranged from menial chores to skilled ones. The lowly domestic helpers washed dishes, utensils, pots, pans, as well as maintaining the cleanliness of the kitchen, whilst the elevated attendants dealt with the food, which consisted of its preparation and storage.
"This way." Iona stated, grasping Gabrielle's hand, leading the path forward.
Nonchalantly letting Iona guide her throughout the kitchen, Gabrielle agonized over the plausibility that the person she was certain to meet wouldn't be the same woman she'd knew years ago. If it was an identical copy of Minya, would it be conceivable that there were other familiar people residing in this world from her and Xena's past. She grew blissful pondering if all her lost friends, both alive and dead, existed here now. If so, she could become reunited with Joxer, Autolycus, Salmoneus, Iolaus, Hercules, Meleager, and even her Amazon sisters.
Gabrielle had a jovial facial expression while musing on being reacquainted with the warrior women she'd come to chance upon in her youth; Queen Melosa, Princess Terreis, Solari, Eponin, and especially Ephiny. The cropped blonde's happy visage altered slightly and she thought of her deceased parents and husband whom died untimely deaths because of noxious violence. Thinking about malevolence, her comportment dimmed darker as she started comprehending that having retrospect of regaining loved ones, this world could bring a resurgence of copious adversaries, too, such as Draco, Callisto, Velasca, Dahak, Aidan, Najara, and Alti.
"Hey, Minya." Iona called aloud, ceasing Gabrielle's all-consuming ruminations.
Realizing they'd come to a stop behind a female who was dressed in baggy clothing, Gabrielle appraised her purposely. She wore a variegated headband that held her hair back, a violet, peasant shirt and a rust-colored skirt with a long apron covering both garments. Bending down to place a metal cooking tray that had several small pieces of rolled dough on it in the wooden stove, she arose and spun to face her two visitors, instantly looking shocked.
"Minya!" A widened grin reformed on Gabrielle's lips and she hugged the taller cook.
Whilst returning the embrace, Minya gaped at Iona, furtively conveying what happened to the strawberry-blonde tresses of the pretender who was masquerading as Ri. The honey-eyed, fifteen-year-old candidly shrugged her shoulders, not possessing an incisive answer for her, other than the storyteller averring that she wanted a different look.
Gabrielle squeezed Minya tightly a final time, prior to releasing her and saying, "It's been awhile."
Minya was baffled, causing her mien to corrugate. "We saw each other last night at the Banquet Hall, Ri. But I guess that can contribute to awhile if you count the candle-marks that passed. Anyway, what in Tartarus did you do to yourself? You have the appearance of a-"
"A slave?" Gabrielle sardonically asked, her grin remaining in place to lessen the biting remark.
"Well... Yes." Minya responded, gazing between Iona and Gabrielle.
"My comment to her earlier wasn't distinguishable from yours, Minya." Iona expounded cheekily, sitting on a table. "Can we chat while you make us something to eat? Ri overslept this morning and missed breakfast and I have a class in a quarter of a candle-mark."
"You didn't rise early?" Minya genuinely queried to Gabrielle. "That's a first."
"Instead of sleeping, I stayed up late."
"She had managed to lose track of Cronus, Minya. Cutting her hair, no doubt." Iona suggested buoyantly.
"Hmm." Minya scrutinized Gabrielle's hairstyle. "I'm not a fashion freak, and I have to admit that your new flair caught me off guard. Nonetheless, I must concede that shorter hair suit you, Ri."
"Thank you, Minya." Gabrielle beamed radiantly, marveling how her old friend appeared exactly the way she recalled.
"I knew you were going to say that." Iona teased the peculiar dressing cooker, before demanding that she pick up her pace, "Hurry, Minya. I don't have all day for lunch."
"Hold your horses, young lady. Besides, I had no indication that y'all were dropping by, so don't rush me." She retorted, traipsing the kitchen to gather a couple of plates, setting some edibles atop one of them. "Speaking of last night's event, why weren't you there, Iona?"
Choosing not to stand idle and gawk at Minya, Gabrielle sat in a chair next to the long-haired blonde, awaiting her elucidation, "I was hanging with Oris, and he took me to this sublime meadow that is close to the Corinthian Gulf. We chatted and ate 'til nightfall, then watched the lighting bugs take flight around us as Selene engulfed the area, making it more magnificent with her silver glow."
'Selene is ascribed to the moon.' Gabrielle finally inferred from the assertions she'd gathered throughout the day.
"That's so romantic. I wish a particular handsome man would whisk me off to a splendid site." Minya swooned for the castle's jester.
Iona sighed heavily. "The ambiance was enchanting, however, it would've been increasingly fanciful if Oris had kissed me."
"You should thank your lucky stars, because there isn't a lot of gentlemen left on Terra." Minya gently reproached Iona, depositing the dish of food on the teen's lap. "Lieutenant Oris is showing a chivalrous behavior out of respect for y'alls courtship."
Once Minya embarked on making the bard's lunch, Iona leaned sideways, whispering in Gabrielle's ear, "It's not chivalry. I think Oris is afraid of my father."
"Why would he be afraid of your father?" Gabrielle casually questioned, as her stomach grumbled from the aroma permeating from Iona's plate.
"Oh-oh. I know that sound." Iona chuckled, giving Gabrielle a portion of the bread and melted, feta cheese to appease her hungry belly. "Your features have changed, but some things are still the same."
Granting Iona an appreciative smile, Gabrielle joyously munched on the proffered sustenance, appetent for her own meal. She savored the garnished bread, coming to the conclusion that, minus missing her soul mate, perchance being spirited here might have its perks, until the Omphalos conundrum was solved.
{C&R}
The War Room was prepensely exclusive to just the generals, and the inner walls percolated tense exasperation. Its seated occupants watched Chancellor Meleager arise from his chair and pace left to right in disappointment. Contrary to avowing that he wouldn't seek an assessment on the armies' recruitment status until three days had passed, it became strategically imperative that Meleager find out now after predicating what was transpiring in Brittania and Babylon. The individual who'd accumulated the Regent of the Realm's enmity, anticipated his deserved fate.
Meleager paused his movements, querying angrily, "How is it that your army's process is extraordinary lower than everyone else's, General Palaemon?"
The blonde-haired warrior had his rejoin prepared, "Lieutenant Batius and I are-"
"Scratch that. Scratch that." Meleager interrupted him. "The only other General who's doing worse than you, is Glaphyra of the Sixth Army. Nevertheless, she isn't here!"
Palaemon regained his collectedness, and tried to reaffirm his response, "Lieutenant Batius and I are conducting a thorough initiation, Chancellor. Our progress is proceeding slowly because we aren't accepting any weaklings in the Conqueror's Imperial army."
"That's your excuse? So I need to exculpate you of any wrongdoing, huh?" Meleager walked to the black armored General who was juxtaposed to Draco. "Problem is; you had several days to recruit and amassed a measly few!"
The General was mindful of his deliberate endeavor to limit enlisting new candidates into the Third Army, 'cause it could impede on his meticulous plans. "Forgive my-"
"General Nale." Meleager cut Palaemon's apology off, and descried hazel eyes. "You had a sluggish beginning also. How is your army panning out now?"
"The First Army has recruited a total of thirty-six additional men and women, Chancellor." Nale replied.
Darnelle and Vercinix locked eyes, assuaged that their armies' recruitment were fruitful enough to not gain a comeuppance from the Regent.
A satisfied look materialized on Meleager's face, but it vanished as he returned his gaze on his errant General. "Do you see, Palaemon? In contrast to bestowing sufficient results, I don't require you to be apologetic. Start improving, before I perceive your incompetence for insolence!"
"I will, Chancellor." Palaemon swimmingly agreed.
"That is all for today. Y'all are dismissed." Meleager purported, reclaiming his chair, while his five generals bowed and exited the chamber.
Alone, he cogitated on the upcoming audience he had consented to Ming Tien, hoping the satrap of Chin wasn't bearing a report that referred to contention with an enemy wanting to foolishly overmaster the Conqueror's Empire. He already had the stress of Cicero's crucial plight bedevil his mind, fearing that the Roman would be captured and executed before the Conqueror's return. Now with the bedlam that he learnt was developing in two parts of the Realm, Meleager didn't want Babylon's ructions or Brittania's circumstances to impasse sending General Darnelle's Fifth Army and Draco's Second Army to Rome.
Rising onto his feet and leaving the War Room to trudge to the Throne Room, the Chancellor had reservations towards ushering his troops to Rome's borders, because their arrival would be an intimation for hostilities. Regardless, the wellbeing of his dear friend was worth the inevitable outcome of armed conflict. Prior to dispatching warriors anywhere on Terra, it was vital for all of the Realm's Generals to have an adequate amount of recruits ready to commence their training and become acclimatized into the Imperial army. Palaemon's lacking proficiency was hindering Meleager's schemes for helping quell the problems that were ravaging the Grecian Realm, and the blonde General needed to get his head in the swing of things.
Furthermore, King Antigonus II's woes weren't full-blown in severity compared to the tribulations that Queen Boadicea's province was enduring. Brittania was presently afire with sedition and exigent for allayment. Sending Lieutenant Kira and a fraction of the Fourth Army to the torn country would leave Gaul with minor defense, nonetheless, her soldiers were much closer to reach there, than shipping a regiment from Corinth; they wouldn't arrive in an auspicious Cronus.
Walking through the Corinthian castle's corridors, the Chancellor's concerns, apropos of the Empire's disturbances, had veered to Ri. He carped over his niece's decision to delay her schooling at Athens Academy for Performing Bards, as well as Aristotle's apprenticeship. Listening to her efficaciously refuse informing him of the reason she insisted on only conversing with the Conqueror, had offended Meleager. The Regent's consternation spurred him to feel that the trim storyteller didn't trust his confidence.
'I'll invite her to dinner this evening.' He ruminated, approaching the Throne Room's double doors and descrying Ming Tien casually chatting with the Governor of Macedonia in front of a couple of sentinels who were safeguarding its inlet.
Still wearing the extravagant jewelry he'd adorned last night at the Banquet Hall, Cassander was decked in a navy-blue tunic with a gold-colored belt encircling his waist, and, having an infinity for the color, the dethroned Emperor of Chin was clad in an envy-green daopao.
Glimpsing Meleager's advancement, Cassander halted the banter he and Ming Tien were immersed in to bow to his former brother-in-arms. "Good afternoon, Chancellor."
"Good noon, Chancellor." Tien's posture was parallel to his companion's. "I am profoundly honored by your acceptance to discourse with you."
"Afternoon, gentlemen." He requited. "And you are most welcome, Ming. If you'd follow me, we can begin our engagement."
Next, Meleager and Ming Tien were summarily flanked by the two Corinthian Guards opening both doors to the chamber when Cassander questioned, "Chancellor, if I'm not overstepping any bounds, I'd accompanied Ming Tien here in hopes of getting a confabulation, too."
'Oh, Minerva, please don't let it be in relation to Alexander's bid to become king of Macedon.' Meleager entreated the wise patron goddess who was the protector and special counselor of the state. "Perhaps, Cassander. If I have the Cronus to spare once Ming Tien's address is concluded, I'll have you escorted in."
"Thank you." Cassander bowed again, observing the two men disappear from his sight as the guards closed the Throne Room's doors.
Inside the sizable, gothic abode, the Regent ascended the expansive dais to sit on the resplendent, silver throne, whilst Ming Tien stood below him.
"What is it you seek that warrants a personal consultation?"
Ming averred, "I was recently notified by my privy bookkeeper that Chin's trade of silk has surged within the Realm, specifically with Greek lands."
"I am apt to concur." Meleager proclaimed. "The commerce of silk had indeed climbed in Attica."
"Then it isn't unreasonable to query for an increase of payment, is it Chancellor?"
Despite noticing Ming's cupidity, Meleager's countenance stayed neutral. "What do you premise?"
His hands clutched behind him, Ming Tien explicated, "A ten percent inflation will suffice."
"Notwithstanding the rise in demand for silky threads, Chin's current remuneration is proper for the sale of its fabric. In variance to other countries that has dealings with the Realm, your country makes a bountiful profit off its commodity. Strictly speaking, adding a dinar more would be plain asinine in this period of Cronus."
"I cannot distinguish your logic, but will assent to it." Ming Tien declared facilely.
"Is that all?" Meleager probed.
"That is all, Chancellor. Thank you again for allowing me to be graced with your presence. I will not deter you any longer." Ming uttered, bowing and departing the Throne Room.
Reposed in the chair, Meleager paid no heed to how easily Ming Tien acquiesced to his decree of denying a money augmentation for the trade of silk, and instead he focused on what Cassander wanted. Deciding to dismiss the Macedonian, the Chancellor's ratiocination brought forth a pivotal detail that King Antigonus II had relayed to him the previous night, relative to the pillaging in Kish.
'Are you blind? Cassander is malicious. You fought side-by-side with my father and him when you were a general in King Alexander's great army. My father warned me of him, saying he's always had a talent for furtiveness.'
Changing his choice, Meleager signalled for a guard to come forward.
"Yes, Chancellor?" He asked.
"Governor Cassander is waiting in the hall. Bring him in here before me."
"Your will be done, Chancellor." The man conceded, trotting to the twin doors.
To Be Continued...