"What are your commands, Creator?"
Ulysses' lips thinned behind his mask: it wasn't too hard to shut the whispers out of his mind for a few minutes for him to think clearly, however, these were still delicate grounds to tread on. No intelligent mind was needed to know that hostilities toward foreigners were more than high up in the skies, particularly during the times of war. Not to mention the Ithacan King Odysseus, whom they were dealing with, was a eagle well known throughout the Spiral for his shrewdness and craftiness.
"Leave any speaking to me, remain silent unless I give another command."
The Armada Supreme Commander smoothed a crease from his uniform, rising to his full height. There was likely no need to announce his presence, if his Assassins had preceded him and announced it to the Achaean warriors.
"Halt, who goes there?"
While he usually preferred to keep his mask on in public, Ulysses reached up and removed it, fastening it to his belt with the clasp Cristobal Auditore had made specially for this.
"It is I, the Assassin Ulysses Septimus: I seek only to have a peaceful audience with the King Odysseus."
Inwardly, Ulysses thanked the previous Commander as the whispers faded down into naught more than a slightly annoying buzz in the very back of his head, and the memories seemed to have retreated as well, even if it was just for a minute.
The eagle hoplite that had stopped both of the Armada officers slowly lowered his spear.
"Lord Odysseus had been expecting you, Your Grace."
Ulysses was fairly certain it was quite impossible then to not feel at least a bit of... pride, if that was the correct word, when his reputation as the Grand Master General of the Assassin Order preceded him.
The Supreme Commander of the Armada made a slight gesture with two fingers of his left hand for Albinus to follow; trailing the eagle through the camp of the Achaeans.
As they passed, Septimus did not need to look to see the reactions of the Aquilan soldiers at his no doubt foreign Commander's uniform. This was not exactly a concern of his, not when he had something of a much greater importance to worry about.
The hoplite stopped before one of the more elaborate tents, out from which stepped another eagle with brown feathers and clad in blue tinted armor.
So this is the famous Odysseus of Ithaca?
Per common curtesy, Septimus brought his left hand up to his chest, curled into a fist and offered the other monarch a slight bow that was more like a curve of his upper half.
"The honor is mine to meet you at last, King Odysseus."
"As it is mine to meet you, Grand Master, shall we talk inside?"
Ulysses sensed a fleeting streak of unease from Albinus, though the Supreme Commander of the Armada shrugged it off -
"Have a seat, Grand Master."
Odysseus had sat down in a wooden chair directly across from Septimus himself; locking eyes with each other once Septimus settled down as well.
Perhaps it would be wise to not "beat around the bush" here.
"I trust that my Assassins have already spoken to you regarding what I am here for, King Odysseus?"
"Your men had only mentioned that you are seeking out an artifact of particular importance that is currently within my hand, Grand Master, though they failed to mention what this artifact is."
Ulysses forced back the slight smile that threatened to emerge at the corners of his lips.
"It is the piece of ancient parchment that you have with you, to be precise, it is part of an ancient document that I am currently in the process of reassembling."
What is the need to reveal the Grand Design to someone whom it does not even concern?
Odysseus appeared pensive for a second.
"And you are willing to lend a hand in this bloody battle just for that?"
"Indeed."
The Supreme Commander had expected this, of course, for who would believe that an ancient parchment is worth sending soldiers into this long and bloody battle? It was all too good to be true, he had no doubt that the famous crafty king of Ithaca would have realized within no more than just a few seconds.
"I won't ask of you to tell me why you would do so much just for a piece of some ancient document."
Ulysses exchanged glances out of the corner of one eye with Albinus. Whatever it was that made Odysseus not question them, they could both definitely agree that it was for the better.
"But you should definitely consider speaking with Eaglememnon about your plans, Grand Master, lest he mistakes you for our enemy. After that skirmish with Eagilles, I do believe he would be more than happy to take his sword up against anyone that gets upon his nerves."
Inwardly, Septimus snorted at the thought of the so called commander of the Achaeans. While, based on what he had read of the brother of Menelaus, he was no doubt a capable warrior within battle, Eaglememnon also had a ridiculously bad temper and could not take anyone challenging his authority. How he was named the Commander of the Achaean army was truly beyond Ulysses' perception.
"Your words are wise, King Odysseus."
As the Ithacan king rose, Ulysses rose as well, careful to keep his hands away from the sword at his hip lest he gave off the wrong impression.
Following Odysseus' lead outside, the Supreme Commander of the Armada halted his steps just outside the largest tent of them all within the camp, as the Ithacan king himself stepped in first.
"Commander, do you truly believe this to be wise?"
Albinus had only spoken loud enough for Ulysses to hear glancing into the entrance of the tent that Odysseus had disappeared into.
"In times like this, chances must be taken."
Ulysses winced involuntarily.
Those damned voices, those whispers! What are you trying to tell me, Apple of Eden?
There was no part of him that did not absolutely loath the inopportune times those whispers chose to come in -
"Enter."
A lazy voice had spoken up from somewhere inside; while Ulysses usually had no problem acting polite in front of someone and putting up a convincing facade, the voice that had spoken suddenly made it much more difficult. Nevertheless, Septimus did, offering the same salute he gave to Odysseus - placing one fist over his heart and offering a slight bow of his upper half - to the elaborately garbed Commander of the Achaeans.
"Lord Eaglememnon."
"Grand Master General Ulysses: Odysseus here tells me that you are happy to offer aide to our cause?"
Do you doubt me, Eaglememnon? As it does appear that your ego is larger than the world of Aquila in itself.
"Indeed so."
Ulysses did not need to look into the eagle's eyes to see the disbelief in it.
"I do not see any of your soldiers with you."
"They are on my ship, Lord Eaglememnon, our numbers may be small, but one of my soldiers is worth a thousand of those Illios Serpents."
"Show me then, tomorrow morning."
Ulysses offered a slight bow.
"But of course."
As both of the Armada officers made their way back to where the Malevolence was, Ulysses only barely registered the ear to ear grin that split his face behind the mask, which he had donned the very moment they left the camp of the eagles.
The demon inside him could hardly wait for the bloodshed.
Give them hell, give them blood-!
For not the first time that day, Ulysses winced, nearly pressing one hand to the side of his head - the damned voices only seemed to be worsening.
"Supreme Commander."
Ulysses' scarlet eyed gaze surveyed his troops from behind his mask, as he returned to the Armada flagship; each and every one of the clockworks snapping into the Armada salute in acknowledgement of his rank as their Supreme Commander and leader.
"I trust the transaction went well, Commander?"
Deacon shifted the walking stick he always seemed to carry with him over into his other hand, the voids that were his eyes locking into the ones set into Ulysses' own mask.
A simple nod from the masked man.
"Odysseus agreed to hand over the piece within his possession if we are to aide the Eagles in winning the Trojan War: however, their Commander-" The word fell from Ulysses' lips with a sour tone, for there was no denying the distaste he felt about the so called leader of the Achaeans. "-Insisted that we show them what we can do against those Serpents."
The smile that had appeared before once more curved Septimus' lips behind the protection of his mask; both in amusement at the not exactly subtle way that Rooke's attention seemed to instinctively latch onto him, the very second he had emphasized the word show, in anticipation of what was soon to happen.
"General Rooke, I trust you will be able to ensure that Eaglememnon receives a good show tomorrow morning."
The Trojan War is going to take a real interesting turn now, who's looking forward to it? And yes, Ulysses is just sliding off the cliff even more, more and more. Will it ever stop? ;) the answer is NOPE.
I do appreciate reviews :D.
Until next time!
-Hades