"Lets give it a day for Tychon's men to rest, I doubt anyone else will object," Phaedra said after a moment. She took another mouthful of wine and swirled it around in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. 

"We can march along the south bank, avoid any troops on the north side and if we have to we can cross over at one of the fords," she concluded.

"And Phaedra is fine, we don't stand much on ceremony..."

"Riders!" came a shout from outside that brought everyone to their feet. Tychon's head thumped on a beam provoking a curse.

"What now?" Phaedra grumbled as they grabbed for armor and weapons.


The riders turned out to be Atvari. They made an impressive sight. Fifty men in blackened armor with gold highlights trotted arrogantly towards Arbela. Each man held a lance erect with white pennons of truce fluttering from their shining points. They trotted forward towards the village, giving every impression of being on a royal inspection rather than approaching an enemy held city. At the center of the line was a puddgy man in white linen with gold cloth wrapped around his head. He sat upon a shaded palanquin which was held aloft by four slaves, remarkable men with shockingly black skin that shone in the sun. Two more slaves stood to either side waving fans to keep the applicant cool.

Phadedra and Brasidas, each with a pair of guards, trotted forward on their own horses to meet the new comers. Phaedra was wearing only half armor, though both of her companions were in their full panoply. The scouts had reported the approach of these riders, but were certain that they were not part of some cunning ambush. That was good enough for Phaedra not to wear her whole sweltering battle dress.

"Imperial Invaders!" the puddgy man called out. His voice was surprisingly deep for such a small man. His short beard bristled as he spoke, giving his voice a strange animation.

"I bring greetings from the Most Righteous Hand of the Great King of Atvari, The Shield of His People, The Lord of the High Reaches, The Sun and Moon, The Emperor of all Paredea, The King of Kings..."

"Yes yes I think we have quite established the Emperors Eminence," Phaedra interrupted. Both of her cataphracts snickered and the envoy fell silent for a moment.

"Imperial Invaders currently defiling the Land of Holy Atvar, rejoice for your King has abased himself before the King of Kings, the so called Emperor Alpharius, possesed of the wisdom which only the King of Kings can inspire, has renounced his false claim upon these lands. You and all your ilk are now trespassing, simple bandits abroad in the land. Fortunately the King of Kings is merciful. Pledge your loyalty to him and accept service in his great army as slaves. Surrender yourselves and find purpose in your service."