"Lead us to him," Lyssa commanded.
The man bowed his head again. "At once, my lady." He gave rein to his horse and hurried back to his men, followed by his companion. The leader shouted orders and in a moment Xanthippus' party found themselves trotting unimpeded toward the palace.
It had been years since Xanthippus had last seen King Areus. His hair had grayed. Flecks of white powdered his temples and streaked his beard. He was taller and leaner than Menleco but had the same thick neck and his face bore enough similarity to the general's to remind Xanthippus that the two were kinsmen. Areus, however, immediately conveyed a feeling of warmth and kindness. Xanthippus could quickly see how it was that the Prathian people loved him. However difficult the decision and bearing whatever bitter fruit, it seemed to Xanthippus now that old King Cleonomus had chosen his successor wisely.
When Lyssa saw him, she dashed across the floor towards him, her arms outstretched. Tears sprang up in Areus' eyes.
"Lyssa! You have come back to me!"
He stood a head taller than his niece did and when she crashed into him, he lifted her and twirled her around. The room was full of their laughter. When he set her down, he turned to the four men who had escorted her into his presence.
"And I have you men to thank for this. Is this true? Please, identify yourselves."
Xanthippus stepped forward and knelt on one knee before his king.
"I am Xanthippus, a loyal man of Prathia," he said as he lifted himself from his knee. "I am but a simple soldier honored to find myself in your presence, Majesty. This" - he swept his arm back towards his group - "is Myrtilus, son of Anzellus, an officer of the Guard and a true son of Prathia." Myrtilus dipped his head, as did each man in turn as he was introduced. "Thalen, our friend, an honored warrior of Irrylia, and Nydeon, like me, a soldier of the Guard. We have come to deliver to you not only Lyssa but the Guard itself."
The king scoffed. "The Guard itself…" He thought for a moment. "And which do you value more, Xanthippus?"
"Which do I…value? I do not understand, Your Majesty. What do you mean?"
"What are your terms?" the king snapped, his voice becoming angry. "Surely, you are demanding some reward, or some… It is known to me that your troops are camped outside the city. The Prathian Guard is not known for offering up gifts--"
"Uncle Areus!" Lyssa cried, cutting him off. "It is not like that, not with these men!"
Xanthippus stiffened. "Sir, I would like to tell you that Menleco is dead, but, in truth, I don't know where he is. But I do know that he no longer commands the Prathian Guard and his Shadow Riders have been destroyed. Those troops camped outside the city are not Menleco's - they are yours. I want nothing in return."
"This man" - Lyssa flew to Xanthippus' side and grasped his arm - "saved me from Menleco. His friends destroyed the Shadow Riders. I was there, Uncle! The Prathian Guard love Xanthippus. You should have heard them cheering. They did exactly as he bid them. He is their leader now."
"The Guard serves Prathia, Majesty," Xanthippus said.
Areus' eyes darted from Lyssa's happy face to Xanthippus. He was no different from the king's guardsman in the city - his suspicion ran deep. "You have returned Lyssa to me, and for that, the crown owes you much, Xanthippus."
"The crown owes me nothing, King Areus, but the restoration of Prathian honor. I will accept nothing less. If you must have one, then that is my demand."
"I'm afraid Menleco's ransoms and extortions might have been easier to pay. He has taken the Guard far down an evil path. I fear it will be no easy matter to bring it back."
Nydeon stepped forward. "I disagree, sir. The men are rough, but it was their leadership that made them what they are. Leadership can bring them back."
"The men yearn for it," Myrtilus said, taking a position at Nydeon's side. He had fifteen years on both Nydeon and Xanthippus and his career as an officer gave him an authoritative bearing.
"Now, you I know, Myrtilus," the king said. "That is to say, I knew your father before he passed, and I would readily trust his son, an officer of much experience. Could you lead the Guard back?"
"I earned my crest under the command of Xarhux when he united all of Gyriece," Myrtilus told him, holding out his helmet to show the transverse crest that marked it as that of an officer. The brilliant white horsehair contrasted starkly with the night-black lacquered bronze of the helm itself. A man wearing it could be seen for miles amid a sea of black Guardsmen. "When the Conqueror moved on to attain his immortality, I stayed behind and entered the "Prathian School." This was before the days of Menleco, so I know what it is to be an honorable Guardsman. There was no higher calling and Xarhux valued no soldiers more. We were famous the world over."
"Then you are our man!" Areus exclaimed. "It is just as I would have supposed of a son of Anzellus."
Myrtilus smiled and shook his head hopelessly. "While I know the value of who I am, Majesty, I am also keenly aware of my limitations. Aside from my little slice of the army, I am no great leader of men. I see what is before me, but that is all. Plans and ideas I have like any other man, but they lie dormant in my head, while men like Xanthippus give them life and spur men like me to finally act on them. That is how the Guard came to be free of Menleco. That is how the Lady Lyssa came to be rescued from him. It is Xanthippus who should lead the Prathian Guard. I believe the men would follow him - just as I did when finally prodded into action."
"It is true, Uncle," Lyssa said. "You do not know the hardships I endured." With a pained expression, Areus reached out his hand and stroked her hair. "Xanthippus saved me, not once, but twice, without even knowing who I was. He risked his life for me. And I loved him before I knew who he was. Now I am devoted to him."
Areus laid a hand on Xanthippus' shoulder. "You are well-loved, sir. A lucky man." He looked beyond Xanthippus abruptly. "Nydeon! What say you?"
"I say Xanthippus should lead the Guard. I have known him my entire life."
"He should lead it, but you should not?" Areus asked.
"Yes," Nydeon said
"And what about you, young man, honored warrior of Irrylia?"
"My name is Thalen and I love the man. I would follow him anywhere."
"Would you follow him to sack Serusi? This is what I wonder."
"We fight for Prathia," Xanthippus said, with just a touch of impatience. The man had suffered greatly at Menleco's hands, his confidence and pride had been shattered. His beloved niece had been stolen from him and he had no means to retrieve her. "The men followed Menleco out of fear. They will follow me because they know I understand who they are. I am one of them and I will lift them out of Menleco's darkness as I myself have been lifted out of the abyss. They yearn for it, sir, as Myrtilus says. With the help of these men who stand before you, I will return the Prathian Guard to its rightful place of honor."
"Then the Guard is to be the walls of Serusi once again as in days past?"
"Under Menleco the Guard was an instrument of terror and fear."
"And under Xanthippus?"
"The Guard shall be restored, King Areus."
Areus stared at him for a moment, considering the sincerity of his words. Then he turned and strode away with his hands clasped behind his back. "These are dark days, Xanthippus. There is war in the north. We will soon have need of walls."
"Dark days indeed, Your Majesty. We have been traveling with the Epirians and we have seen that their war is unending. Whether our walls be stone or flesh and bronze, Prathia cannot stand by while the Epirians fight alone for their lives. As it is, they fight without walls, with nothing to armor them but their courage. Irrylia has conquered Epiria and now invades Sethaly. Is there any doubt they will march on Prathia next? We must join with the Epirians before Demetrius brings his full might to bear on them. They cannot stand alone against him for long."
Areus turned. He looked tired and worried. "But who has the strength to oppose Demetrius?"
"No one," Xanthippus answered. "That is why we m
ust join the Epirians. Together perhaps we can stop him. The Epirians believe their king is returning. They fight with great moral conviction."
"Hurrus! I have heard this, too. I knew King Arrhus, of course. But the boy Hurrus…I would not trust a Tygetian, no matter his bloodline."
"Would you trust him less than Demetrius? This king, Hurrus, will not return without an army at his back. When he sees that it is Areus who helps him win his throne, Prathia will find herself with a much-needed ally, perhaps a powerful one. Perhaps a very powerful one."
Areus sighed. "Much-needed, indeed. Already we have received reports of Bearded Men raiding our villages, rumored to be the vanguard of a large force."
"Then we must move at once," Xanthippus said. "Gorgeo must be informed so he can mobilize his people as one, and we will fight at his side. I will assemble the Guard and take it north to meet the Irrylians."
"This is what we will do," Areus agreed. He clapped his hands and a messenger rushed to his side. "We will send Riders to Gorgeo." He spoke softly to the messenger and the man scuttled out of the room quickly. "But there is nothing to be done tonight, Xanthippus. Tonight we shall celebrate the return of Lyssa. Tomorrow, there will be time enough for war."
At first, Xanthippus felt irritated at the needless delay, but as the sky darkened and they dined and enjoyed singers and musicians, the happiness in the room made him quickly forget his dismay. Areus was right. There was little he could do that night and there was no harm in enjoying a few moments. He was back in Prathia, after all. Lyssa was beautiful. Her smile was so constant that he scarcely recognized the sullen girl he had come to know in Menleco's presence.
After dinner, he bathed in the great palace bathhouse. As he lay in the steaming waters, he found himself thinking of the immense fat man in Tygetia. Sotheb, the man was named, repulsive and corrupt. He remembered the cursed ape and how Nydeon had tried to converse with it and that made him laugh.
Then he saw the giant urn of the water heater.
A little fire burned beneath it and a ladder rose to its gaping mouth. There is something clogging the apparatus inside, Xanthippus. He screwed his eyes shut tight. His spirit climbed the ladder and took a hesitant look inside.
He slammed his fists into the water, startling the servants.
Gods be damned! Can't I have a moment's peace?
He felt no peace until later that night when he was alone with Lyssa in her chambers. He stood at the balustrade overlooking the bay. The moon was low on the horizon and its reflection wavered placidly in the black water below. A warm breeze flowed over his body under his loose-fitting robes, the richest garments he had ever worn, smooth and soft. His hair and beard had been daubed with scented oils and he wore soft, cloth sandals.
"It is funny to think that Isala lies out there somewhere, beyond the curve of the horizon."
He felt Lyssa's hands slip around his waist. He half-turned and saw her beautiful face close to his. She had fixed her hair in a complex weave bound by an ivory comb at the back of her head, giving her a regal look. He smiled and turned back to the sea. On the crest of the dark headland that enclosed the bay a temple stood black against the sky, moonlight visible between its columns.
"Isala has special meaning to you, Xanthippus?" Lyssa asked.
"It is the land of my birth," he said. "It is strange to think that the same water that laps on our shore touches that coast as well. It makes it seem so close, and yet it is removed from me by an ocean of time. No mere sailing ship could ever land me on its shore."
Her arms tightened around him. "'Xanthippus,'" she mused. "It is an unusual name."
"It is Isalan," he said.
"And what does it mean?"
"In the Old Tongue, it means 'man of pain.'" Xanthippus felt embarrassed to say it aloud. He chuckled thoughtfully. "Isala is more ancient than even Tygetia. They still worship the bull there. They call him Kunuum. He lives in their labyrinths."
"Labyrinths? Just as those beneath our own temples?"
"Yes. Prathia inherited them from Isala. Here, the temple priests illuminate them with everflame, but some of the labyrinths on Isala are so old they have gone dark. I knew them well and could walk them by heart, even the dark ones."
"Alone? The very idea of it makes me shiver."
"Fear was my companion for many years, Lyssa. When I needed a place to hide, I could bury myself in Kunuum's labyrinths. I got to know them well."
"A place to hide…from what?"
"I was a child and thought I could hide from my fear. Instead, I found it. I learned one thing down in those dark mazes. I learned that the bull does not stalk the labyrinths through which the priests lead processions under everflame torches. The bull inhabits the dark ones, the ones the priests have forgotten. I know, for I have seen him."
Lyssa pulled him tight to her. "Now you are frightening me!"
Xanthippus turned, laughing. He held her close. "I don't mean to scare you. It is funny what causes one to remember. It was your palace bathhouse that set me off. Now I am stuck with these memories until they go away. We will speak of it no more."
"But I want to know of you," she said. She laughed lightly. "I will be brave. Tell me of this bull."
Xanthippus chuckled again. "Oddly, I was not afraid of the dark. I embraced it…and it embraced me. I could not see my own hand before my face, nor any wall before I stumbled into it. After a while, I would say that I could walk the maze with my eyes closed, but the utter darkness made that redundant. No one could ever find me in my hiding places, and yet I suspected I was never alone in them.
"One day, I knew I was not alone. Footsteps followed me. When I moved, they moved with me. When I stopped…silence. It did me no good to turn and look, though I squinted hard behind me. It did me no good to cry out; I received no answer. But when I moved, it followed and when I ran, it ran after. Finally, I gave up and just sat at the base of the wall. I waited for the thing - whatever it was - to crash into me, but nothing happened. I listened but heard only the pounding of my own heart. My pursuer had gone silent, but I could still feel it nearby. It was watching me, and as I sat there in the dark waiting for it to eat me - or to do with me as it would - I could feel the thing's warm breath on my neck. By gods, if I had lifted my hand, I would have touched it, but I dared not.
"On the wall above me, there was an old extinguished everflame torch. It must have still had a dollop of the stuff in it for at that moment it flared up suddenly, illuminating the entire corridor in a blaze of red. That was when I saw him, the bull man, his face just inches from my own." Lyssa shrieked and he could feel her jump. His own skin prickled at the memory of it. "He was staring at me with his great blind stone eyes. The flame died out and I jumped up and ran as fast as I could, no longer hoping to die. Not if that creature had anything to do with it."
"Were you just seeing things?" Lyssa asked, hopefully. He remembered thinking the thing he had seen was death itself. He did not know why. Why would death appear in the shape of a bull-man? He had had no answers, but he had always imagined a similar vision might occur to a drowning boy in his last moments. From that time onward, he knew that he did not want to die - and he would kill to avoid it.
"Demons live in shadows, my lady," he said. He ran a knuckle along her smooth cheek. "Best to keep a flame lit."
"I think you must have been having a nightmare. Perhaps you had gone down into the dark maze and fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing. You were just a boy. Is that possible?"
"If it was a nightmare, it torments me even while I'm awake, for I just saw the bull man again in Tygetia," Xanthippus said.
"Again?" Lyssa gasped. "Say it is not true!"
Xanthippus laughed. The fear that showed in her face somehow made him less afraid. It seemed silly when he spoke it aloud. "Nightmares, dreams and visions. Probably just a memory of the black maze, a demon that lives in some shadow of my mind."
He sauntered into Lyssa's chamber. Braziers burned low on either side of her cano
pied bed. The breeze from the veranda made the diaphanous curtains flutter slightly as if a ghost had passed through them. He poured them both cups of wine from a decanter. When he turned, he could see her shape where the moonlight filtered through her gown. He felt a stirring inside him.
"The Tygetian bull man saved a man's life that night," he said, handing her a shallow drinking cup. "So…I don't know. No matter. I'll not be going to Isala or Tygetia again any time soon. There are no monsters for me here."
"Not since you destroyed Menleco perhaps," Lyssa said, taking the cup. "I fear there may be more monsters in Gyriece than just some abandoned old gods." She sipped thoughtfully, and then looked up. "Tell me what you know about the girl who is called the Huntress."
"The Huntress?" Xanthippus repeated in surprise. "The earthbound Veronysia." He couldn't help smiling.
"I knew it! You are in love with her."
"What?" Xanthippus felt his face redden. "I traveled with her group. As a captive."
"Her real name is Coronea. I was with her when Menleco sent her to her death. Can she be saved?"
He shook his head sadly. "I don't know. Men went to rescue her, but…I don't know."
"I knew you had been traveling with her, but you didn't, though. Go to her, I mean."
"I had to rescue you," Xanthippus said with a smile.
"I can see how a man would fall in love with her."
Xanthippus found himself nodding in agreement. "She never believed I was a slave," he said.
Lyssa looked puzzled. "Who would ever believe that?"
"For many years, Lyssa, I did. But not Coronea…"
"I would never believe that." She put her cup down. "I want to be as brave as she was…is. I will make you love me, too."
"Oh, but Lyssa, I do. I would give anything if Coronea were still alive, but it is you I love."
"I want to share your fate, Xanthippus. And that of your army and of Prathia itself. I am a Prathian woman, strong and brave as any other. When you march tomorrow, take me with you. Please."
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