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 wanna say thanks to all my faithful readers, and a special shout out to Kayda-Starr. Continue enjoying. ;-)
The Conqueror & Ri
A Twist of Destiny
By Ahkiken
Chapter 43: Pertinacious
Within the onyx interior of the area where five occupants sat at a round, obsidian table, they all arose, placing fists over their hearts as Nale, the Conqueror, and Meleager stepped in.
"My Lord, there was idle canards that you've arrived from your progress in Crete." Darnelle airily commented, wondering why he hadn't seen his wife. "Has Glaphyra returned, too?"
"Yes, she's undertaking a grievous matter and won't be joining us." The Conqueror responded, sitting on her rightful chair that was centered and situated beside the single window in the room. "Reclaim y'alls seats, we have chief subjects to discuss. Some are more salient than others."
Given the enjoin to be seated, the six males did the Conqueror's bidding. Thereafter, she descried the War Room, noting an extra furniture was added, increasing the usual number of seven to eight, and that her brother inhabited it. Prince Lyceus plus the Chancellor were settled on the left and right side of her respectively. Revolving from Meleager's position was the remaining Generals; Nale, Draco, Palaemon, Vercinix, and Darnelle, who were all perched in alignment of their corresponding armies, save for the General of the Sixth Army, Glaphyra.
Staying quiet for a moment, she focused on her commanders separately, deducing which ones would guarantee the best results for solving a couple of the Empire's inconveniences. Inconcinnity wasn't optable, and the Ruler's sagacity allowed her to speedily filter through each General's prime attributes, helping to determine who'd fit a situation perfectly. When her orbs alighted on the brown-skinned man, she promptly chose his post.
"It's nice to have you back." Draco affirmed, breaking the Conqueror's absorption of the specific person in the locality, provoking her to glance at him.
"Thanks. It feels great to be here also." Her grin was brief, altering to a stoic mien. "But the news that greeted my return is baffling. Anon the entire castle will discover that a varied amount of their neighbors are indemnified, and I have red in my ledger due to the twenty-seven soldiers I've lost in Dia. Y'all are sentient of the issues that afflict the Realm, yes?"
Excluding the Chancellor, everyone else nodded.
"Tell me, should Britannia's sedition become an accretion to another indemnification?" She quizzed.
"No, Conqueror." They asserted in unison.
"And Babylon, shall the pillaging in Kush procure an accrual as well?"
She received their reiteration, "No, Conqueror."
"I didn't think so, either." The Overlord agreed. "Queen Boadicea and King Antigonus II's kingdoms are conjoined to us. Ergo, whatever betides them impacts the Empire. Those whom insult these monarchs, discredits me and our reputation to defend the territories that belong to us. It's not squarely anyone's fault, 'cause we all have to equally shoulder the guilt for dallying. But continuous inactivity in such parlous Cronus henceforth is inadmissible."
"The Chancellor was pioneering a stratagem to absolve these issues." Vercinix avowed.
"Those propositions are voided." The Conqueror instantly felt rueful for her bad choice of words whilst gandering at Meleager. "Notwithstanding that his ideas would've swiftly rectified problems, it would've countermanded the plans I've already set in motion. Fortunately, I have deliberated on our allies' quandaries, and my decrees will be instituted immediately."
Each pair of ears in the room focused intently on the Conqueror's iminent declarations. Intuiting that her orders could plausibly send the Realm's army trudging across Terra's landscapes and Neptune's oceans, they all knew they had to pay rapt attention, because the Conqueror never was in the habit of repeating her commands.
"Darnelle, you and several of your troops are to traverse to Rome." She had begun explicating, "Y'all's assignments is to infiltrate Italia by posing as traveling merchants around Tiber. Not only will you gain knowledge or leads on Cicero's whereabouts, but I require you to learn more relating to Antonius and Octavian's renewed alliance."
Jovial to be going on his mission, Darnelle beamed internally. "Yes, my Liege. When shall we depart?"
"Before dawn." The Conqueror concisely rejoined, thus turning attention to two of her other Generals. "Once the Tribute ceremony is concluded, prepare your troops to accompany Queen Boadicea to Britannia, Nale. You will remain on standby, Draco, in case the country's insurrection becomes uncontainable."
Both males bowed their heads in concurrence. However, Nale wasn't too happy about his charge. He looked forward to spending quality moments with his recent Macedonian lover without consternation, but quickly felt disillusionment after realizing that Alexander II would most likely be leaving Greece following the Conqueror's celebration. Nale's fellow compatriot's dark visage was unreadable while praying to the gods that Britannia's insurgence would get quashed so he wouldn't have to play a role in its salvation.
Days ago, Draco had no clue what contrivance Meleager was working on regarding him and his Second Army. Subsequent to the drama unfolding overseas, perchance he'd been primed to backup one of his comates from the beginning, and that notion, sub rosa wise, was unacceptable to him. His reappearance from Egypt had coincided with the Conqueror's departure to Crete, prompting him to miss an opportunity to apprise her of the conference that the Egyptian High Priest had arranged, which alluded a plot to enslave Amazons.
'Should I warn the Conqueror of Egypt's scheme?' Draco probed himself, peeking at Palaemon, who'd explicitly publicized a determination to hunt the Amazonian barbarians. 'Or caution her anent to his?'
The General of the Third Army was clueless to Draco's sudden gander as his grey orbs stayed trained on the Conqueror. On behalf of the task he and Draco undertook in the Land of the Pharaohs, a full moon had elapsed since he'd seen his Lord in all her resplendence. Palaemon reflected on the Conqueror's outstanding beauty and the manner that the gleaming breastplate delineated her feminine form.
'She epitomizes pulchritude and power; truly armipotent. Venus and Mars must be enormously jealous.' He dreamily conjectured, 'til sapphire irises alighted on him.
"I will expound your role privately, Palaemon." The Conqueror pronounced, then began speaking to Vercinix, "I will discourse with you alone tomorrow also."
"Yes, Lord Conqueror." The Gaul assented.
Figuring that the major topics were toured, the Conqueror was ready to dismiss them. "That's all I have for this meeting. Save for Darnelle, we'll interface again on the morrow at high noon."
"There is still cases to explore." Meleager prompted.
"I'll hold off on Babylon's woes till I've spoken to Alexander and Governor Cassander. I will address Alexander's supplication for majesty, too."
"Not purely those." He commenced clarifying, "What to be done referring to the Amazon's proposal to participate in the Tribute?"
Most of the stationary individuals were acutely knowledgeable of the Conqueror's tempestuous history, and knew that the warrior women's request for an invite was singularly controversial. It wasn't unrealistic to surmise that her treacherous slaughter of the Northern Steppes tribe couldn't and wouldn't go uncontested by the united Amazons. Accordingly, the silence in the War Room was palpable as every man held their breaths to await their Liege's verdict.
Retaining her imperturbable expression, the Conqueror simply proclaimed, "The Amazons' petition will be granted."
Having an abject reaction to his Lord's discretion, Palaemon mentally appealed, 'Surely she don't intend to shelter potential assassins in her own home!'
"My decree is final." She reconfirmed, axing any refutation. "A missive will be written and sent to their Nation, detailing that the Tribute is in a couple of days, including how many of them can come. That'll be enough Cronus for the Amazons to make it here in a seasonable fashion. Are we clear?"
Kenning that a rebuttal to her fiat was inexpedient, everybody consented whether they accepted the older woman's decision earnestly or unenthusiastically.
"Good. Our convocation is ended." The Conqueror stated, espying the various obeisance her men presented 'fore rising from their chairs to exit. "General Palaemon, linger a moment."
Unforgetful that the Conqueror wanted to communicate with him one-on-one, the cropped blonde man halted his footfalls whilst the others strolled out of the door, shutting it behind them. He was merely joining them because he'd reckoned their dialogue would happen the next day, identically with Vercinix's.
Residing on steady feet in lieu of retaking his seat, Palaemon queried, "Yes, my Lord?"
"How's your recruitment fairing?"
Palaemon wasn't a stupid person, gleaning that the Conqueror knew 'bout his poor number of enlisted soldiers. "It has been lackluster, simply 'cause I'm inclined to garnering exemplary fighters, and not wannabes who'll waste the Realm's-"
"How many?" His Lord interjected.
"Nine." He confessed, unhesitantly.
"Recruits are to be trained in the arts of soldiery, aren't they?" The raven and silver-haired Ruler was rhetorical.
"Yes, Conqueror."
"Therefore, see that you obtain your quota soon, Palaemon. Any further excuses will get negated."
"Your will be done, my Lord." He replied.
Afterwards, Palaemon received a gesture from the Conqueror to resume his steps toward the egress. Nevertheless, the black armored General could not yield his pertinacious demeanor apropos to what he deemed was a drastic mistake on her part.
Continuing to stand in the same spot, Palaemon averred, "If I may impart what's on my cerebration, Conqueror, I do believe with all my heart that inviting the Amazons here is equivalent to sleeping in a nest of venomous serpents, triggering danger to you and the Realm. You should strike first to stave off whatever conniving they're trying to implement."
"Do you credit me a fool?" The Conqueror questioned, nonthreatening.
Regardless, the inquiry nearly coaxed Palaemon's knees to buckle; falling onto them in cardinal deference, if not adoring love. "No...never. I just don't wish for you to succumb to anything feasibly fatal."
"Wishing for my death would be treason... Besides, my father is long dead, and I do not recall praying for a young male to substitute him." The Conqueror simpered. "The gods had already saw fit to give that position to the Chancellor."
Despite her effort to provide humor, Palaemon was steadfast in his conviction. "Your past dealings with them is a sufficient reasoning for those bitches to mete out equal treatment for retribution. Why can't you acknowledge this?"
"You overstep your bounds." The Conqueror's coquettish grin had completely vanished, unnerving Palaemon. "You've no concept of what I fathom. I have seen and lived through more than a lot of people could ever imagine as a fifteen-year-old while you were a twinkle in your sire's eyes."
Kneeling immediately, Palaemon entreated, "My apologies, Lord Conqueror. I'm deeply sorry for aggravating you."
"You are sorry." The Conqueror didn't give him an easy reprieve. "But you're forgiven. Now proceed with your dismissal, General."
Instantaneously arising on his feet, Palaemon saluted the vexed Overlord and did her bidding. Upon the General's evacuation, the Conqueror ruminated over his excessive opinion to refuse the Amazons' application and the pursuit to spearhead a war against them. She neglected his apparent impulse to protect her from plausible harm, thereby concentrating on the zeal he favored. The Gerent of the Realm started surmising that Draco's views relevant to the Serbian tribe may have influenced Palaemon's indignation for the females he'd never encountered personally.
'His coddling isn't necessary. Considering the off chance that the Amazons seek an invite to eliminate me, precautions will be sanctioned.'
More annoyed than gratified by the Third Army General's insistence, the Conqueror's cognition filtered his current display out of her brain, clearing a pathway for the reminiscence of the trim storyteller whom she'd desperately craved to reunite with. She presumed Ri was on her trek to Athens, and once the Lord of the Greek Empire restored a semblance of calm in Greece's conquered territories, the enamored Potentate would organize a trip to go there as well.
'Why postpone packing for my jaunt.' The overly jubilant Conqueror had risen from the seated posture, choosing to traipse back to her chambers. 'Peace will ensue momentarily, then I can schedule my getaway.'
{C&R}
The first thing she noticed was the dull ache that intermittently pulsated in her cranium. Next, aqua optics gradually opened, trying to distinguish her surroundings and where she was. Whilst leisurely scanning the locale, which was becoming progressively familiar, she faintly recollected a fleeting dream; the kind that proffer illustrious glimpses of a sublime imagery. Ascertaining it couldn't had solely been a fantasy she'd dreamt, but a probable reality, Gabrielle welcomed the giddy sensation that imbued her heart.
Gabrielle's sight scoured the last spot she had beheld her phantom friend, nonetheless, another occupant replaced him. Reclined in the contiguous chair, a long-haired blonde soundlessly read the scroll that lied on her lap.
Her name was memorable. "Iona?"
The subdued elocution of Iona's appellation coaxed the teenager to expeditiously espy her false surrogate sister. "Ri, you've awaken!"
Springing from the wooden furniture, the adolescent pounced on Gabrielle, conveying her strong emotions with a crushing hug. The masquerading Samurai was unprepared for the sentimental demonstration, having no alternative except to let Iona pin her down.
Registering that she could be administering additional pain to Gabrielle, Iona raised off of her, uttering, "Forgive me...did I hurt you?"
"No, you didn't." Gabrielle assured her.
The warrior-in-training became pacified, tarrying beside Gabrielle. "Phew, I'm glad I wasn't harming you. My father evinced you had recovered from your unconsciousness, and awoken temporarily prior to Chancellor Meleager summoning the castle's top medic."
'Meleager was here!' Gabrielle cogitated, pleased she hadn't positively fantasized the phenomenal encounter. "How long have I slept?"
"You've slumbered the day away." Iona divulged.
"It's nighttime?"
"Time...minute." The bard's unremitting outlandish lingo threw Iona for a loop. "Seriously, Ri, where are you learning these unique couches?"
"Is it night?" Gabrielle modified her query.
"Close to it." Sparsely jaundiced that her inquiry would stay pending, Iona deported herself with happiness because the storyteller appeared cured of any grim afflictions, intoning, "It's evening."
"I lost the morning and afternoon." The self-incriminated Amazon professed, moving into a sedentary pose, until a tender hand lowered her lithe frame back onto the bed.
"Ri, you shouldn't make hasty movements." She exhorted. "Hippocrates said your recuperation depends on the amount of rest you acquire."
"Hippocrates?" Gabrielle mumbled, involuntarily tolerating Iona's doting ministrations by allowing the teen to tuck the furs underneath her.
She remembered her fortuity meeting with a youthful assistant who shared the same namesake and was apprenticed by an obtuse curer inside a healing temple that was dedicated to the god of medicine, Asclepius. Digesting more sanative knowledge from the Warrior Princess than that of his mentor Galen, the impressionable male would apply what he imbibed from Xena, combining it among the medicinal studies he would become reputed for.
Postliminary to waking from their twenty-five years of sleep in an icy tomb, Gabrielle was elated to hear Hippocrates had transcended his olden status, gaining dignified fame and adherents to the teachings he'd validated by dispensing countless of illnesses. She had managed to attain a copy of his philosophical lexicon, and although it majorly limned her soul mate's techniques or derivations from them, Xena's heir culled a bit of new medical skills from the renowned physician, boosting Gabrielle's competence in the field of curing.
'If Hippocrates' double is the apical medic, it would be nice to see him since I hadn't gotten a chance to when he was in Thrace.' Gabrielle thought, preceding her realization that she'd failed to finalize a specific purpose.
Semblant to an obsequious scribe who'd carved Xena's tutelage in their memory bank, Gabrielle perused her psyche, discovering the oversight to actualize one of the Warrior Princess' most primary rules. Becoming vexed pertaining to the inability to perform a severe inspection while traversing the castle's interior with Iona, the bard readied her wary body to fulfill the obligated task.
"I have to get up." She weakly protested, starting to rise once more.
"That's not a sterling idea, Ri." Iona persisted as she caressed Gabrielle's short tresses that rested above her bandaged forehead. "Hippocrates will be returning anon, whereby he'll give the all-clear whether you should be wandering about."
The incog wouldn't be deterred. "I don't need relaxation, Iona."
Gabrielle's averment was nimbly vilipended by Iona, who purported, "The Chancellor will have my hide if I let you roam freely after the kitchen incident."
"I'll be fine." Gabrielle relied on her conciliating flair. "I won't be up too long..."
"Nope."
Gabrielle pressed onwards, "Just wanna stretch my legs, and I have to-"
"No, Ri." Iona interrupted, carrying on with the gentle stroking of Gabrielle's golden mane. "Unless you're going to the bath chamber, I can't allow you to risk anything else."
"Quit babying me." Gabrielle reacted negatively to Iona's incessant behavior, finally coercing the minor to observe her in shocked disbelief.
"I..." Caught off guard because of the Samurai's ungratefulness, and another testament to her friend's incomprehensible attitude, the teenager's tender touching had ceased. "I'm sorry for caring, Ri."
Apperceptive of Iona's pathetic physiognomy, Gabrielle felt guilty for lashing out at the attentive youth and wanted to make amends. But before she could verbalize a single word, Iona covered her desolate face.
"Fuck it then." The teary-eyed fifteen-year-old expressed, getting off the bed and exiting the room, slamming the door closed.
"That could've went smoother." Gabrielle sighed, exasperated with herself.
Putting Iona at a distance during this vital time of needing an informative ally wasn't prolific, lest Gabrielle sought isolation, 'cause that what she'd surely get by resorting to wroth methods. Thinking she would eventually repair their acquaintanceship at a later date, the displaced Amazon stopped pondering over the girl she'd met yesterday. Now her will was set on the exploration she had to venture...
Or so she assumed.
'A tinge more repose probably wouldn't be a bad thing.' Gabrielle admitted inwardly, whilst droopy eyelids sealed her weary pupils.
To Be Continued...