Danmachi Familia from Hell

23

All the gates leading to Valua remained closed at night until dawn. At each of them, small guard posts had been built behind the walls, where soldiers could rest and grab something to eat between their assigned hours of watch. However, a brief nap was not enough for most men to remain alert and resolute in defending the entrance to the capital throughout the entire night. A perfect example was the pair of privates who were sleeping on their feet, leaning against their spears. The first was so deeply asleep that he would not have noticed even a wagon train passing right under his nose. The second, however, tried at least somewhat to fulfill his duties and kept opening one eye every so often to check whether anyone was approaching. He knew he should not lose vigilance even for a moment, but what was the point when his superiors were supposed to relieve him and his friend over two hours ago and instead were sleeping soundly on their cots?
When he enlisted in the army, he had hoped to build physical strength, travel frequently to various corners of the continent, gain fame on the battlefield, and amass wealth by plundering conquered lands. His body had indeed grown stronger thanks to Falna from Ares and the harsh training and drills, but instead of the rest he was assigned to kitchen duty—peeling potatoes, scrubbing pots—and to an incomprehensible number of night watches.
Half-conscious, he snored under his breath when suddenly he heard a growing knocking sound, like horses’ hooves. He opened one eyelid again, and lights from handheld lanterns carried by two approaching figures reached his eyes, their silhouettes wrapped in long hooded cloaks.
The soldier nudged his companion with an elbow to wake him. Unfortunately, that did not produce the desired result, so he stomped his heavy armored boot onto the man’s foot, and the latter immediately tore himself free from Hypnos’s grasp.
Brutally awakened, he first shouted and then was about to strike his comrade, but the latter pointed toward the approaching riders.

- Stop! - called the one with the aching foot. - The gate remains closed until sunrise! - he shouted firmly.

- You may return in the morning or pitch a tent by the wall. But entry is out of the question - the more vigilant one explained calmly.

Instead of replying, one of the newcomers dismounted, casting back his hood and releasing an aura that spoke more about him than a thousand words.

- I am Hades - said the ruler of the Underworld calmly. - Uncle of your lord Ares and someone whose return has been awaited. Lead me to the castle at once, or I shall describe your appearance in great detail and how you delayed our meeting when I finally see him.

It took them a second to grasp what the golden-eyed man had said, less than a minute to open a small postern gate in the wall, and under an hour to reach the residence of Ares and the king, who were roused from sleep and hastily received the lord of the dead and his follower in the war god’s chamber.

- You succeeded?! - Ares asked directly, still dressed in his nightclothes. He did not even attempt any greetings or courtesies.

- We survived - the golden-eyed one replied, as emotionless as ever. - But the task cost my servant dearly.

The god of death gestured toward the elf, who showed the bandages wrapped around his arms and throat.
Considering that none of our soldiers or spies had survived a journey to that region so far, we were lucky nonetheless, Matiás thought.

- If you have someone capable of using healing spells, I would greatly appreciate it if you sent for him.

- Very well, I will do it at once, but tell me what...

- My servant’s health first, Ares, - his uncle cut in, his voice unusually cold and sharp. - Business afterward.

The patron of Rakia did not attempt to argue. He knew he would gain nothing by it. He left the chamber and ordered one of the guards stationed at the entrance to fetch the only member of Ares’ familia in the city capable of healing with magic. Fortunately, he resided in the castle so that in case of serious injury or an assassination attempt on someone from the royal family, there would be someone on hand capable of providing far quicker and more effective aid than even the best doctor.
An aging man with a long gray beard presented himself before his patron after about twenty minutes.