Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne.
Author's Note: I realize it's been awhile since I've updated. I graduated this year(woohoo) and have spent the summer running amuck and trying to find a job. I just got a job so that's been my excuse of late, but I've also been rather disappointed by the fact that I haven't received reviews for my last couple chapters. No offense to all of you that have reviewed, I thank you ever so much for the support! But since I haven't received the response I've wanted, and also due to my new working status, I've decided that I will bring Strategos and Sitiah to a rather abrupt close. I'd wanted to tell the whole story, but I feel that it's not necessary to drag it out if there is not an interest. So I shall end without telling the whole story. Perhaps if there is an interest in a continuation I shall come back to the keyboard, but as of now Strategos and Sitiah shall have three, maybe four or less chapters left. Big thanks for those of you that have stuck with me! Lots of love!
ArsinoetheXVII
Miles from the red and black lands of Egypt was the capitol of Fanelia, Folken's great city. Devoid of the deserts, river valley, and palm trees that graced Egypt, Fanelia stood amidst the deep green of verdant forests. Folken had expanded the city to the heights of the mountains, where villas with acres of grassy knolls perched, overlooking the vale. Nestled between the woods and gray peaks of rock the city thrived, the homes cluttered together snugly. The very capitol of Gaea, the crowning glory of Strategos' empire, stirred with a flurry of activity. Government was carried out in the district closest to the palace, leaving the rest of the enormous village for the merchants, trades, and housing. Of course there were temples scattered about here and there, the many deities all enjoying their own private centers of worship. Even gods once foreign to the capitol were given their due in houses of white marble and soaring columns. Isis was a favorite among the locals, as well as outsiders who stopped at her temple to do her homage. It was common knowledge that even the Empress of Gaea was quite fond of the 'Mistress of Magic'. She made frequent trips to the temple just past the district of government.
She knew that day she should go, if only to keep up appearances, but she couldn't find the energy to rouse herself from the chair. Her routine had gone as usual, up until that point in the late afternoon and she had nothing to do. But the truth was she had something to do, it was the same thing that she did on every Wednesday afternoon, and sometimes on Saturday. She could not find the strength to stand, to get up and order the carriage around. She had always prided herself on being indifferent to the opinions of others, above the rumors and speculations. What did she care if people whispered about her? She didn't, at least she had thought that she didn't.
Staring out the French doors of her room she reprimanded herself for the weakness. The rain streamed down the glass before her eyes as lightening streaked across the dismal sky. Another sigh escaped her lips as she told herself that the weather was a perfect excuse not to leave her rooms. She closed her eyes, wishing that there were no other reasons for her lack of enthusiasm. But she hadn't proved impervious to gossip after all. What was worse was that she had personally denied it, knowing deep down that the hearsay was valid. Denial was an attribute she had always admonished in others, crediting it to a fragile sense of self. Finding it in herself had been a shock, and a striking blow to her normally untouchable esteem. She had chosen to play dumb when the shameful accusations about her husband had first been brought up. Of course no one had directly commented to her, but she had always had a keen ear. She had first heard them passing the offices of the general on her way to a council meeting. She had slowed upon hearing the voices. The young men guarding the doors had been speaking in hushed tones. They had not spoken quietly enough.
"…On a barge going down the Nile. The queen shares her quarters with him. They say that sometimes they're closeted alone together for hours."
"I heard that too. Some people are saying that she's a practitioner of Eastern magic; I bet she's placed a spell on him. She's a part of an evil cult, I swear it!"
"She's worked some kind of magic alright, but it has little to do with a cult," The other snickered, "I've seen sketches of her, they've been selling them in the markets ever since the news of the affair reached Fanelia. She's very beautiful with dark eyes and hair. I've heard she's got a great figure too. Besides, she's from the East; women there are all very casual about sex…"
"How strange, a man like Strategos falling for a woman from the East! I mean, he was reluctant about his own marriage to Princess Eries, and he's never been known to take lovers. The Queen of Egypt must be very appealing…"
She had comported herself as usual within the meeting hall, but her mind had not been on the matters of state being discussed. For the first time since she had admitted herself to the Board of Elders she'd had no comment on the debated affairs. Try as she might she could not focus on more than a few words of the conversation. Fragments of the exchange in the hall replayed in her head, words and phrases echoed nonstop like "magic", "affair", "dark eyes", "East", and "Strategos". But none of the men and women of the board had noticed, except Tiernan. The young man had seen the absent look in her eyes and had immediately become concerned. He glanced at her maid in the corner, but the girl gave a small shrug. The apprehension was in her eyes as well, she too had noticed the change in her lady. His homeland was an isle in the far western ocean, past Gaul. His accent reflected the colorful language of his people from the green hills of his beloved nation.
"Empress, you seem a might pale, is there something I can do fer ya?" He had leaned towards her, his gentle green eyes lit with worry. She had always enjoyed the sound of his voice, and it did not fail to bring a small smile to her face as she looked at him.
"Am I… Well no matter, I shall be fine. Thank you, Tiernan," She replied quietly.
He shook his head, saying quietly, "Forgive me for sayin' so, your majesty, but ya don't seem fine. Please, if there's somethin' I can do, don't hesitate to ask me." As always his light green eyes seemed intent on hypnotizing her, pulling the truth from her. He was an honest young man, witty, and bright. She had found him to be trustworthy as well, and though sometimes he was too blunt for his own good, she thought him charming. But just then, her heart was too flustered to be soothed by his good intentions.
She sighed, "Perhaps not, but there's little to do about that now. I'm grateful just the same, Tiernan."
"I understan'," He chuckled, "I'll shut my big mouth… But if you find there is somethin' that can wipe away the frown on your face, let me know." She nodded turning her head away as the slightest blush rose to her cheeks. The chat between them had gone unnoted by the members of the board to Eries' relief. And as she sat reminiscing about the dialogue she wondered if the young man was aware of the rumors circulating. Rumors, they had never pierced her world before, but now that they had, and the affect was depressing. Still she felt an unwavering loyalty to her husband. She would hear the truth from his lips before she passed judgment.
"Lady Eries?" Seneca spoke quietly before her mistress had even realized she had entered.
Getting to her feet the empress turned to look at her near the door, "What is it?"
"Your sister has come to ask if you'll accompany her to the Temple of Isis," The young woman answered, her eyes intent on the empress's face. Her brown eyes were emotionless, yet Eries could still detect the searching quality in them. Eries pursed her lips a moment as her eyes fell to the floor. Finally she looked up at the servant and nodded, folding her hands together calmly.
"I imagine she is waiting in the carriage. Yes. I'll join her. But if you please, I'd like to go alone with her. Would you mind staying and readying my letter to mail to Strategos?" She said no hint of the anxiety she felt rising in her voice. For a long moment Seneca said nothing, staring at her with a probing determination.
"As you wish my lady," She conceded, sketching a small curtsey. Though she felt dismal and oddly unsure of herself, Eries managed a smile to thank her handmaiden silently.
"There are some proposals on my desk as well, will you see to it that they are delivered to Tiernan Gavin? A letter to Council Woman Lenora is among those papers, I'd like you to hand deliver it to her yourself with the greatest discretion," Eries took the cloak from the back of her chair and draped it over her arm. Seneca only nodded. As the empress walked to the door ready to exit she murmured softly, "You needn't look so concerned, Seneca, I'm capable of composing myself without your added worry." Eries stopped, her hand on the door, hesitating as the feeling of dread stole into her again. Several minutes passed in the gloomy quiet as the rain continued to splatter against the palace. The two women were keenly aware of the low spirits of each other, and seemed to commiserate in the silence.
Seneca's mild mannered voice finally broke the trance, "Forgive me my Lady, but I feel I should tell you what is on my mind." She paused, then went on in a rather quick pace, her words gentle, yet ringing with solemn certainty, "You may not realize it, but for the last three years that I've served with you I have come to know you as well as I know myself. Though I am younger than your majesty by four years, and enjoy little status, I believe myself to be quite adequate at seeing truth as it stands.
"In that light, may I say that I truly believe that whether or not the emperor has been unfaithful to you- which I'm sorry, I think to be the case- he has no intention of calling off the marriage. One, for reasons relating to political alliances, as you well know, but also for the solid fact that he cares for you. Perhaps his feelings are not romantic in nature, but despite that I believe he has no intention of hurting you. He may think more on your union than you currently think. I have no right to try and interpret Lord Folken's actions, any more than I have the right to claim I know what you are feeling. Still I find it imperative that I tell you that I strongly feel that he loves you in his own way. Foolish I may be, but naïve I am not. I see things plainly, empress, it is the only way I know to see things. Therefore, I can swear by what I've said." All this time the young maid had not wavered in her resolve. There was no cause to believe she was only saying what her mistress wanted to hear. No, Seneca was not one to mince words, nor was she a dishonest woman. Eries accepted her words without disillusion.
With a heavy sigh Eries looked down at her hand on the handle of the door, "I know you speak truth Seneca, and I thank you for your confidence… I wish it was enough to dispel this uneasy feeling in my heart." That said the empress opened the door and left to accompany her sister to the temple of an eastern deity. A deity identified with the very woman whose name would plague the empress's mind for weeks to come.
***
They'd been playing for hours, and still neither of them could outmaneuver the other. It seemed they were equally matched. The board between them was made of the finest Lebanese wood, gilded with sheets of thick gold. The pieces fashioned of semi-precious stones had seen years of use and shone with the effect. Senet was an ancient game played since the time of the Egyptian kings. Indeed this particular board had at one time been in the possession of Seti the I, father of Ramses the Great. But its heritage was of little consequence to the two players who quietly passed the time, looking up every now and then to gaze at one another, only to look down again, color rushing to their cheeks.
The queen looked on from her couch beneath the white sunshade erected over the dais near the bow of the barge. She lounged silently, propped up on one elbow, her eyes mysterious orbs of deep brown. Contemplating nothing in particular for almost as many hours as her handmaiden and the young prince had gamed, Sitiah seemed a statue among the luxurious trappings littering the deck.
They had anchored outside of Syrene, near the first cataract, in an unpopulated area on the bank. Of course the queen had been invited to take up residence in the governor's house, but she had declined, preferring to stay in her sumptuous cabin on the Royal Barge. Tents dotted the banks where the cooking was done, and where the small army of servants, sailors, and oarsmen made camp.
Sitiah could see Philae from where she reclined, her eyes often moving to the marble columns of the temple perched on the isle. But she had made no indication that she meant to journey there, at least not yet. Lately she seemed content to lie about resting against a mountain of pillows on the deck. The Nile was as much a part of her as the capitol, so it seemed odd that she blamed her inactivity on nausea. Still she managed to take up a regal pose on the throne whenever they rowed through one the provinces whether great or small. People lined the banks to see pharaoh, showering the water with flower petals, and calling out their blessings upon the goddess as she passed.
Sitiah put on a marvelous show, decked out in Egyptian fashion, the crowns of upper and lower Egypt fit on her head, her eyes elongated with kohl and painted with gold, a thick pectoral of lapis, carnelian, jasper, and gold covering most of her chest. She even donned the tight fitting sheath of the Egyptian women, as well as the gilded sandals whose soles were designed with the images of bound foreigners, a sign that pharaoh crushed all Egypt's enemies. Her whole person was illuminated by the precious jewelry on her arms, hands, and in her ears, even her ankles were clasped with gold bracelets. The common people, who rarely glimpsed any grandeur outside of the field, were elated, stopping everything to see the wealth of their ruler on display. The fact that Sitiah was immersed in the old religion, gave the people greater cause to worship her. Priests welcomed her readily into the inner sanctums of the temples she visited, praising her as the goddess, and accepting the offerings she poured into the treasuries. With the priesthood's backing she was truly the pharaoh of the two lands, and the people of Egypt knew it.
Strategos watched all this with mild fascination as they traveled noting how her following grew, and her power increased with the religious acts she preformed. He was rather in awe of the whole thing, especially in the way she held herself. Despite her delicate structure she was able to stay perfectly statuesque in all the pharaonic regalia, though the weight was considerable. The crowns alone were enough to hinder a person from moving too quickly to make a gesture or turn in a certain direction. But Sitiah managed to stay composed and put up an impassive front, even on days when she was feeling exceptionally weary.
As they continued their inspection of the temples and site seeing, Strategos increasingly noticed that sort of malady taking over her. It was she that had ordered their rest for the day, putting up in direct vision of the sacred island.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye, from his place next to the rail. She seemed fine, if not a might healthier. However, there was a different air about her in general, one he only speculated about, rather reluctant to bring it to her attention.
As though she could sense his thoughts, she turned her gaze to him, staring at his back. With a sigh, she swung her feet to the floor and got to her feet, moving elegantly toward him despite the tight sheath hugging her figure. At his side she stopped, her eyes again resting on the temple across the way. He waited, content to let her say what it was she had come to.
When she spoke her voice was soft, with a hint of distraction, "When I was a child, my father told me that one day I would control Egypt's destiny. That the people would look to me for guidance. 'Pharaoh embodies Ma'at, and brings the gods' blessings to the land' he said. And that pharaoh's happiness can only be when the people are content. Without that contentment, the gods would be displeased, and no blessings could be had." Suddenly her eyes were awash with tears and she turned to him, "Is this what it's like to be blessed by the gods?" She shook her head, looking towards Philae again swallowing her abrupt grief. For a moment she was silent as she steeled herself against her rising emotions. Stern with determination she looked at him again, "Only when the people are full with Egypt's grain will I bring food to my lips again."
He frowned at her his eyes narrowing as he tried to call her bluff. But he saw no sign of deception, only a stubborn hardness. He knew very well that this was again about the demands Fanelia made for Egypt's grain. From behind him he heard the sound of her physician's shock. Olympus had gone pale, halting his approach toward them.
Sitiah heard as well, turning too quickly to look at him. She lost her balance, her eyes suddenly heavy as she dipped forward. Strategos steadied her, catching her before she could fall to the deck. He lifted her into his arms, noting the difference in her weight. She did not protest, ignoring the cry that had erupted from Olympus and even the gasp of her Prophetess. It was only when she heard the clatter of the Senet board that she snapped to attention.
"Isa," She scolded, struggling to see over Folken's shoulder, "That board has been in my family's possession for decades. Take care you don't lose even one of those pieces."
"Um- yes my lady." Isadora replied uncertainly, her eyes dropping to the upset board and the pieces about the deck.