GODS AT THE CENTRE ( EDITING)

CHAPTER IV, EMMESO: MORNING TIDINGS

The knocking at the door continued. It was gentle and hesitant at first, then it got bolder and louder!

Emmeso rubbed his eyes. He lay a bit, gathering his wits. Esola was still asleep beside him. Sunlight was already streaming in through the window.

The knocking!

"I'm coming!"

Somebody was still knocking. He slipped into his black sleeping gown. He tightened it at his waist and moved over to the door.

Iyuca came bowing into the room, muttering a guttural greeting.

Emmeso yawned and with sleepy eyes queried his old house keeper.

Iyuca hair was almost white. His face seemed as old and worn out as the walls of the house. And truly he was the oldest servant in the house, a steward right from the time of his grandfather.

He knew the workings of the house, what everything and everyone was doing at each time. Who was more likely to keep late nights, who was more likely to steal food from the kitchen, who was lazy and who was diligent. Emmeso knew that he knew him too as well. He had after all watched him grow.

With his aged face and grey thobe, he cut a clear picture of a grandfather.

"Balog  Atriks awaits you downstairs. He says it's very urgent. He must see you now!"

Emmeso nodded. If Atriks had foregone his frequent morning quaffing to see him, it must be very important. With a last look at Esola who still slept soundly, he shut the door and went downstairs.

Emmeso met Atriks with his face down, fixed on the animal mosaic of the living room's floor.

He swayed restlessly. His left arm at his sword's ball pommel. He was fully clad for battle. He had his orange plumed helmet that announced his rank as a balog. His steel breastplate merged with his vambraces. In all from his helmet to his greaves, his armour was painted crimson as well as his cape.

"Atriks!"

The balog's blue eyes registered relief at seeing Emmeso.

"It's not so early, but it's early enough for you. So, what dragged you away from your drinking to meet me. Even war isn't enough to separate you from it."

Atriks smiled, his pointed white nose making him look like a grinning hawk. He removed his helmet, holding it to his side, revealing his lowly cut blond hair.

"Well, I'm what I'm. I love to drink, I cannot lie. But I don't drink every time. Don't believe all you hear about me, dear councillor. I'm a decent man. Well, most of the time." He chortled.

Emmeso smirked while considering this. Atriks the Andorian, who with his blonde hair and blue eyes and sweet words had wooed his way into many a woman's heart and at times left a bastard as a souvenir for the lady's recollection of her night with the exotic.

Atriks who had come to Alamaria seeking employment. First mercenary, next a citizen, inevitably a soldier. Often drinking, always a womanizer, but somehow a high military official, a balog.

The gods do the strangest things.

"Are the soldiers ready? Is everything in order?"

Atriks exhaled. "We may not even be going into battle."

Emmeso brows thickened. "What do you mean?"

"High gods! There is no enemy to fight! Word came from Onia saying that the Thigian fleet just turned around in the middle of the night and left! Like that! Nothing, not a sound, like ghosts!" Atriks exclaimed.

Emmeso' s eyes widened. "How's it this possible?!" He shot an arm aimlessly. "Nobody comes for am invasion and just lives like that!"

"The news is solid!'

"Vantu is setting a trap for us. They want to lure us out into the open sea, scatter our forces in search of them and then leaving us vulnerable to their attacks and Onia undefended."

"Strangely, I actually thought of that. But some of our ships that scouted ahead saw the fleet moving south in haste, towards Ulia. They don't seem to be wanting to set a trap for us. Something urgent came up, obviously."

"You think they were recalled?"

Atriks shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe a rebellion is threatening Ulia again. You know how important Ulia is to Thigia. That city makes them money like food makes shit! Either that or Thigia has grown a healthy fear for Alamaria. Or maybe they have heard the tales of my valor and are afraid to meet me in battle. Oh, yes, even in Thigia they know of Atriks the strong...."

Don't forget to add drunk and sometimes stupid to the list.

Emmeso didn't quite share Atriks confidence.

"I don't trust Vantu at all. It's not Vantu's way at all. At least so I have heard. Keep alert, ready the men for any sudden calls.

"And Atriks no drinking and no women, the city has enough bastards. I need you as sober as a priest. These are dangerous times."

Atriks shrugged his shoulders. "Ah! How will I survive without wine, without women?! These Thigians better be worth it!"

He wore his helmet and summoned the dignity of a soldier. "As you command." He bowed and left.

Emmeso sighed. What in centre are you up to, Vantu? Am I supposed to feel safe and grateful or very worried?

He sighed, this was going to be quite a day.