Disclaimers: See Chapter 1
Additional Note (Please Read): This story is tied to, Xena & Gabrielle: A Turn of Fate. :-)
The Conqueror & Ri
A Twist of Destiny
By Ahkiken
Chapter 3: Accomplishment
The General hated Egypt. Not because of its people, the language they spoke, or the Pharaoh.
No.
It was the endless amount of sand and the damn excruciating Helios that felt like intense fire to him. He couldn't fathom how the Egyptians could live here all year around, notably in the seasons of spring and summer. Though the General's skin was as dark as the original citizens of the ancient country, Helios' blazing effects did murder to his flesh, and the golden armor he wore made it severely worse.
Gazing out at the Nile river, he remembered the trek through the dry wasteland, onwards to the palace of Alexandria with a contingent of forty troops; twenty men from both the Second and Third armies. To his amazement, his fellow comrade was either unfazed or plainly tolerated the insufferable heat. Strange, since he was profoundly fairer in pigmentation.
['Just drink lots of water, and hope the royal couple are as miserable as you are.']
He recalled Palaemon's laughter whilst failing to lighten the mood. The General of the Second Army had been to Egypt before when the Conqueror advised the same liquid element to fight back the corollary of Helios. Water quenched the thirst, but couldn't pacify his agitation for the shining celestial.
A light knock was barely audible on the door of the guest chamber he occupied, and General Draco answered, "Come in."
Staring out of the small window in the decadent room, Draco listened to the invited visitor enter his lodging while grasping the silver cup that rested on the oak stand next to him.
"Finally, Palaemon." Without turning around, he deadpanned, "Let's get this objective over with and return home from this inferno they call a country."
Bringing the crisp, cold water to parched lips and drinking his fill, he began facing his compatriot.
"I can't believe Cleopatra's audacity to stall us for a whole-" His sentence dropped once he caught sight of the person standing by the closing threshold.
It wasn't Palaemon, and the soldier's fist touched his chest in salutation.
"Lieutenant Hector, what is the meaning of your arrival?" Draco was clearly annoyed at the young man whose origins hailed from Carthage.
His complexion was a few tones lighter than Draco's, invoking him to always coincide the Lieutenant's birth with the conquest of Carthage by the younger and ambitious Julius Caesar. With Rome's history of pillaging, it was easier to agree that Hector's mother was either raped, or willingly available to one, if not many of the Centuries and Legionnaires. However, the Lieutenant of the Second Army never evinced his parentage, and the Lord Conqueror hadn't inquired about it. The only thing she cared to know was if Hector had the skills of a capable fighter...
He did.
"General Draco, I have come to inform you that General Palaemon is indisposed. He has been unwell since last night." The light-skinned Lieutenant conveyed.
"We have an audience with the Pharaoh." Draco pronounced eloquently. "What caused his indisposition?"
"The General is suffering from overconsumption of water." Hector replied.
"What?" Draco glared at his Lieutenant dubiously. "I haven't ever heard of such an ailment."
"He is enduring water intoxication. It has been verified by the palace's physician." Hector affirmed. "His Lieutenant of the Third Army, Batius, confirmed that it's not poison."
'Damn it, Palaemon.' Spinning sharply, Draco tossed the remaining clear liquid in his cup out of the window and watched the slaves work outside the royal residence, mumbling, "'Drink lots of water', they say. Ha, now the fool is sick."
"I also have reports on the scouts whom you sent on reconnaissance."
Still observing the drudgery taking place, the General asked, "What of them?"
"Out of the three that partook in the venture, one returned deeply dehydrated. The other two perished from exposure to the harsh elements."
It was a shame to Draco when warriors died by different means instead of battle. "Which army do the casualties belong to, and did they discover any oddities?"
"A soul from both the Second and Third armies rests in Pluto's underworld. Argin, the scout who'd survived, did mention an-"
Draco held out a hand for Hector to be silent. "If you have the report on your persons, bring it to me."
Traipsing forward, the rookie Lieutenant realized what Draco meant. An individual could never be too cautious in another's abode. Spies were plentiful, from experts to novice servants, all with their ears open to detect any kind of rewarding information. Handing the slip of papyrus to his General, Hector was disappointed in himself for nearly completing an amateurish mistake.
Draco skimmed over it, prior to ripping it to shreds with a smile. 'Just as the Conqueror surmised.'
Another rap on the door brought both men to full attention, and Draco gave his Lieutenant a signal to open it.
A half-naked slave, having a mere cotton cloth to hide his lower, private member, bowed and reported in broken greek, "The Pharaoh is ready to receive you."
Draco inclined his head in acceptance.
"I'll wait outside for you." The Egyptian said, taking a second bow, then he closed the chamber door.
Hector remained upright, whilst Draco addressed him, "I suppose the General of the Third Army will need extra Cronus to recover?"
"Correct. With plenty of repose and a sufficient amount of honey milk, General Palaemon will be good as new."
In an outburst of dissatisfaction at Palaemon's infirmity and its causality to effectively postpone them departing Egypt, the General of the Second Army threw his empty vessel against the wall. Hector's posture faltered for a moment at Draco's behavior. Usually, his commander withheld showcasing choleric outbursts.
Therefore reacquiring his composure, Draco urged, "How are the men holding up?"
"The Second Army is lodged in their own barracks separate from the Third just like it was since we'd first gotten here a sennight ago. Both armies are still comfortable from what Lieutenant Batius had shared with me, but there's a mounting concernment." Hector responded.
"What is the concern?"
"Both armies lost a man. After his return, Argin spent three candle-marks deliriously predicating that Helios will kill us all. He's stable now, and appears able to handle his duties, but Argin's words has frightened some of the men. They are fearful of the return trip to our ship." He elucidated.
Draco pondered on the issue. The two lookouts, who'd died, did so in service to the Realm, and no matter the manner or how anyone felt about it, showing cowardice wasn't acceptable. The General began hoping he hadn't selected cowards for this simple mission.
"Tell them Argin and his accompanying companions had underestimated Egypt's temperature. Now that we all know Helios is dangerous here, they must learn from other's errors. So be sure to drink and store up enough water to keep them hydrated, but underline the issue to not indulge too much. We don't want 'em inflicted with the same illness as General Palaemon."
"Drink sparingly." Hector acknowledged.
Draco nodded, securing a dagger in his gauntlet to protect himself from any unforeseen danger.
'I cannot be armed while I'm in the presence of Cleopatra, but seeing how I'll be alone with her, I am not taking any chances.' He cogitated, preceding whispering in Hector's ear, "Once you've spoken to the army, make your way back here and await my return. My following orders will correspond with the outcome of this conference. If I don't show in a couple of candle-marks, gather the Second and Third armies with or without General Palaemon. Afterwards, head towards the ship. Slaughter whoever stands in your way."
"As you command, General."
Giving each other a salute, they left the guest chamber, with Hector going to the barracks and Draco shadowing the docile servant through the palace halls.
The General was happy to almost be done with his charge. If he never saw another half-dressed, Egyptian slave, he'd be fine for the remainder of his life. Albeit his stay in Alexandria wasn't all that bad; the female thralls were pleasantly accommodating.
Finally, they had arrived inside the Hall of Pharaohs.
"The Pharaoh will join you soon." Stating that, the oppressed male took his leave, leaving Draco by himself.
Viewing the space he was in, Draco scrutinized the numerous golden statues that encircled the room. They resembled the Pharaohs who ruled Egypt during its ancient past before the fledgling Ptolemaic dynasty. The effigies were illuminated in its brilliance by the decor of the walls that had honey-brown and white-colored drapes hanging off of it.
Draco walked to one of the golden images that beckoned his contemplation. Eyeing the structure, he instantly realized its graven surface detailed a flawless, magnificent beauty. Whomever the designer was, they paid excellent artistic license to the original model's replication.
Touching the gold visage, he heard a voice behind him.
"Nefertiti."
He whipped around quickly to descry the orator. The person in front of him was relatively old, possibly more older than the Chancellor's age range. To the General's relief, he wore a dyed brown linen cloth that covered his upper and lower body. Brownish-gold sandals also adorned his feet. Black eyeliner circled dark eyes, and a medallion that represented an Egyptian deity graced his neck. The Egyptian's arms had interlacing golden bracelets decking them, and his head was shaved bald, save for a long rat-tail that hung from the back of it to his waist.
Draco continued to eye the man with disdain as he went into his tale.
"She wasn't fated to be born a Pharaoh like the others who are immortalized here. Pharaoh Cleopatra the VII decided that the wife of her primordial predecessor, Pharaoh Akhenaten, should be beside him in death since they ruled together side-by-side in life. Nefertiti was known for her great beauty, not unlike our Queen today. After her husband died, she became de facto Pharaoh, changing her name to Neferneferuaten, and ruling Egypt for three years before dying from an outbreak of plague. She symbolises everything our current monarch inspires to be. A devoted leader to the citizenry, wonderful provider to her children, a loving wife to her husband, and above all else, a harbinger of peace." His yarn completed, he prompted Draco, "Can your Lord Conqueror avow the same?"
The General's ire was greatly provoked. "Who are you? Where's Cleopatra? My audience was to be with her."
"Forgive me." He proclaimed, bowing. "I am Ansem, the Pharaoh's High Priest."
"Do you take me for an idiot!" Draco yelled, his anger getting the best of him; he was tired of this gods forsaken location and wanted to traverse back to Greece. "Priests belong in temples, not handling the responsibilities of politics."
"On the contrary." Ansem started explaining, keeping his calm attitude. "We High Priests are the closest to the gods here, but unlike the feeble minded heretics you may call a priest from your homeland, we've served and participated in public affairs alongside our respective Pharaohs for centuries. I've served as High Priest for twenty-five years. It was I who summoned your Lord here when she was known as the Lion of Amphipolis."
The General couldn't halt a contorted expression. He was cognizant anent to the Lord Conqueror's tale of how she hardly made it out of Egypt alive succeeding the Egyptian's betrayal.
Glaring at Ansem's face, Draco folded his arms across an armored chest. "So it was you who betrayed her as well?"
Keeping eye contact, he professed, "What happened to your Lord those previous years, were between she and Caesar, for which he paid for with his life just last year. We had suffered for that fiasco also."
Draco allowed a sneer to play on his lips, teasing, "Yes. The raiding of your precious library. It fits wonderfully in Athens."
That comment actually got a reaction out of the High Priest, recalling scenes in his cerebration from three years past when the Conqueror came with a massive army to besiege Alexandria, terrifying Pharaoh Cleopatra, her military, and the populace. Caesar had left her several moons beforehand to obtain Britannia for the Romans. Thereupon being unsuccessful in doing that, the Britons' island wounded up getting annexed by Greece's growing empire instead. Hence, the Dictator chose to try and keep hold of the territories Rome still held, never returning to Egypt again.
Cleopatra was alone, facing down a vindictive Conqueror. Needless to impart, the Pharaoh had to surrender without a fight, accepting all of the Lord Conqueror's preposterous requirements, which were; free trade of grain for a few years, a huge sum of monies were to be distributed to the Grecian Realm, and the most famous library throughout the known Terra was processed, then packed away to be delivered to Greece.
The daughter of Ptolemy became so overwhelmed, she promised the Conqueror she'd be her personal whore if the raven-haired woman ceased anymore outlandish demands. Luckily, the demeaning act coerced the Greek Overlord to relent, but she hadn't taken Cleopatra up on her offer, to the Pharaoh's dismay.
She required someone as strong as the Lord of the Realm to stand with her, whereas the Conqueror knew that, too. Although she could had fucked Cleopatra, and loaded her ruminations with empty promises, she'd always disliked the Pharaoh's use of sex for empowerment, having witnessed it over two decades ago when she was the naïve Lion of Amphipolis, playing bodyguard to a younger, aspiring Pharaoh, who was trying to grab total power from her brother, Ptolemy II, whilst keeping the Romans at arm's length.
In the end, the Lord Conqueror departed Egypt with nearly everything, presenting Cleopatra VII with a crumbling kingdom that thankfully wasn't annexed, nor had a garrison inserted. Hard Cronus lied ahead, and once murmurs circulated that the Dictator for Life, Julius Caesar, was dead at the hands of assassins, the Pharaoh's hope for a restored domain laid to rest alongside the whilom strategic, Roman General. If it was not for Marcus Antonius taking an interest in her, all could had been lost.
Regaining his bearings, Ansem retorted, "What a pity to lose our grand library. It was filled with such profound knowledge and history. You Greeks should be thankful to have literary imagries to succor quelling your barbaric ways."
Draco smiled, querying seriously, "Enough of your dido, where's the Pharaoh?"
"She is currently preoccupied at the moment. This is a minor situation of overseeing the Lord Conqueror's alterations on the trade agreement that was enforced on us. It does not take a genius to ascertain that whatever she commanded isn't negotiable, which allows me to listen and pass it on to my Pharaoh."
Next, Ansem ambled over to a white and grey-streaked marble table, signaling the General to sit.
Settled in their seats at the table, the High Priest included, "She has a husband and twin toddlers to care for. So, General Draco, let's begin."
Sitting across from each other, Draco yielded. "Fine, Priest."
Pulling a scroll from his side pouch, he handed it to Ansem. Grasping the proffered rolled parchment, the High Priest scanned its contents critically.
"Ah." He gave into scorn, laying the missive on the marble. "The Greeks wishes to extort Egypt twice. These are not suitable decrees. They're as ludicrous as the last demands that were unjustly imposed on us."
"The Conqueror states; free trade is lifted, but Egypt will simply receive thirty percent of the proceeds, in lieu of forty. To ensure the continuing peace of the Realm, Egypt's army is not to expand beyond the White or Blue Niles, and shouldn't be anywhere near the east and west of the Mediterranean Sea that's close to Grecian borders." Draco reiterated what was written on the official letter, prior to divulging, "Lastly, and this was personally apprised to me by my Liege to tell the Pharaoh. It isn't on the scroll, and seeing that you're the solitary ear that's here for her, I'll disclose it to you. Marcus Antonius must leave Egypt as soon as traveling arrangements can be made for him...and his troops."
Ansem was surprised by the General's remark. 'How could they have found out? Marcus was very discreet when he stationed his army here.'
Distinguishing the High Priest's mien, Draco explicated, "Don't ponder on it too much, Ansem. The Lord Conqueror is nobody's fool. They were well hidden, and it caused us the lives of two men while they surveyed your hot ass land. You are fortunate I don't seek reimbursement, but Egypt has enough problems."
"Hmm. It seems our little Lion has grown up from naiveté since her first visit here. Notwithstanding, she remains foolish, and none of you will survive if-"
"I am an acting ambassador for the Realm of Greece. If something drastic was to befall upon me, General Palaemon, or any of our soldiers from the Second and Third armies, Egypt will pay the consequences." Draco assured him.
Ansem became appalled by Draco's misconstruction. "I'm not threatening you, General. I'm offering a friendly warning. If you would kindly let me finish what I was trying to express."
"Get on with it. Just be mindful of your words. My tolerance of you and your disrespectful tongue is reaching its limit." Draco expounded.
"As I was trying to say, none of you will survive if the Conqueror doesn't destroy the true enemy of the Grecian Realm." Ansem informed, cryptically.
Draco wasn't impressed, and sarcastically listed off a potential adversary, "The Romans? Their Triumvirate?"
"Not them. Nor will it ever be Egypt. But the Amazons..." The High Priest revealed.
Draco ran into the warriors seasonal cycles ago whom lived off the land. They were fierce fighters and hated men. He encountered them along with his Lord, and both became infected with antithetical opinions on the surviving Amazons in the world, especially when the tribes that were hitherto scattered, united together in Greece not far from the Realm's capital, Corinth. It wouldn't be long 'til the Amazonian Nation was fully ruled by a singular queen, and attempted retribution against the Conqueror for her fray in the Northern-Steppes of Siberia.
"The Amazons are of no importance. They are nothing compared to the Conqueror's power." Draco asserted.
"You don't believe that." Ansem challenged.
"It doesn't matter what I think. The Lord Conqueror-"
"Is a fool." Ansem interrupted.
In an explosive rage, Draco jumped up from his chair, growing very close to broadcasting his veiled knife and introducing it to the High Priest's throat. "I warned you to mind your tongue!"
Ansem kept his cool.
"Look around yourself, General. There's not a guard or slave protecting me. This..." His dark orbs gleamed with exactitude whilst he scooped the offensive parchment, allowing it to slip from loosened fingers onto the table once more. "Is ridiculous. This is supposed to be a concourse for the Realm's renewal of an equitable treaty than what the Conqueror had constrained on Egypt. But between you and I, we know the truth. It's not a negotiation or diplomacy; it is an act of dictatorship. Now, can you comprehend exactly why I am here in Pharaoh Cleopatra's stead. You are a ministerial official, serving a political monster."
"You presume to disrespect the Realm and not accede to the Conqueror's will?"
"Calm yourself, General Draco... Unless you plan on using that dagger underneath your gauntlet."
Draco kept his stupefaction at bay, deducing, "Spies."
"Doesn't everybody utilizes them?" Ansem quizzed the rhetorical question.
He made a gesture for the General to sit back down, nevertheless, Draco had chosen to remain standing.
"Have it your way." Ansem sighed. "Egypt will recognize the Conqueror's fiat. I will put it to the Pharaoh and she will make it so."
"Good." Draco muttered.
Whirling around to make his exit, Ansem halted him with an inquiry, "The Amazons, General Draco, what are you willing to do in order to rid the Geek dominion of them?"
"Nothing. It is not my place to aver an enjoin."
Ansem rose to his feet, gaiting slowly to him.
"It is in a sense. You foresee how dangerous they'll become in the future." Ansem's legs stopped moving to stand behind the dark-skinned man. "A plot is set to obliterate the harlots."
"Why would you or your Pharaoh care about the Amazons? They are Greece's pest, not Egypt's." Draco queried, tilting his head to the High Priest.
"The Conqueror left an onus of money troubles for us after her departure. Egypt struggled to make ends meet. Cut backs on foreign trade, tax increases, and slavery, helped with adjustments. Previous to the Egyptian Amazonian tribe deserting our land, a group consisting of thirty members were captured. These profligate rodents garner an exorbitant amount of money to slave traders. We amassed an amazing profit off enslaving and selling them." Ansem interpreted, worried he hadn't snared Draco's intentness. "Men will pay nearly anything for these exotic, so-called women, to not solely bring them to heel, but to teach them the ways of man since most of the backwards wrenches has never been touched intimately by one. You hate them Draco, don't bother denying it. Imagine how priceless this opportunity can be. You will be rich, and the Amazons will also be swept away from being a concern to the security of the Realm, killing two birds with a pure stone."
It was no lie, Draco despised the Amazons and all they stood for. First impressions were everything, and thereby meeting the Siberian Tribe, they'd really bequeathed a bad distaste for the entirety of their kind.
The General didn't like Ansem either, yet, he became curious to learn more apropos to the scheme that would entail the savage women's demolition. "What would this stone cost me? I must be deceitful to my Lord?"
Ansem beamed wickedly. "A wee appraisal to aid in stirring our plan in motion. Nothing extreme."
"When?" Draco needed more information than that. "What am I to do?"
He clapped Draco's shoulder. "We'll keep in touch. Thus you and the Lord Conqueror's Greece shall truly have a sense of accomplishment."
Their meeting concluded, the General finished the walk out of the Hall of Pharaohs to prepare his men for the circuit back to their ship.
Unbeknownst to Draco, a pair of eyes, that was concealed behind a secret aperture, observed him.
To Be Continued...