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The camp was as settled as it was likely to be with a horde of soldiers gathered in one place. Fires burned and canvas fluttered slightly in the winds that rolled off the oceans. The skies had been clear that day but there felt something changeable in the air. Or perhaps he was just overwrought and reading signs that were not there. Narmer raised a hand towards the men by the fire as he walked past, bidding them to stay seated even as their General passed. They might be done for the night, but his day had not finished yet, and he had agreed earlier to meet with Osorsen.
They had both attended the meeting with the Pharoah of course, but the two of them could speak more freely away from the man, and honestly, in Narmer’s view, often came away with their best plans when Iahotep was not involved. The man might have been a good warrior once, but in the general’s mind, he’d spent too long behind the golden walls of the palace. Not that the sirdar would ever even breathe a word of such thoughts aloud, not even to Oso, who he had a good deal of trust in.
Narmer nodded to the man standing sentry outside the H’moghadam’s tent, and cleared his throat to announce himself as he pushed the canvas aside to step within. Being out the wind was good, the nights cold once Nephys had spread her shadowed veil.
“Good evening,Osorsen”
Narmer waited for his friend to acknowledge him before he stepped further inside, eyes passing quickly around the general’s tent ; passed the gleaming khopesh settled so carefully on the weapons stand, passed the charts on the table that the general had obviously been studying. They were due to sail for Taengea in the next fortnight, just waiting on the final provisions to come in from the provinces.
Narmer had mixed feelings about this war. On one hand, he desperately needed the gold and good name that a successful campaign would offer. But on the other, he was loath to step away from the Hei again when it was foundering. Osorsen was one of the few that Narmer could speak openly with regarding the mounting problems he faced and he had come to value the older man’s counsel.
“You have not yet settled on our course?” he asked as he moved further inside and swept a hand toward the map table. He had thought that detail at least was finalised, but perhaps Oso had thoughts that he had not shared yet.
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The camp was as settled as it was likely to be with a horde of soldiers gathered in one place. Fires burned and canvas fluttered slightly in the winds that rolled off the oceans. The skies had been clear that day but there felt something changeable in the air. Or perhaps he was just overwrought and reading signs that were not there. Narmer raised a hand towards the men by the fire as he walked past, bidding them to stay seated even as their General passed. They might be done for the night, but his day had not finished yet, and he had agreed earlier to meet with Osorsen.
They had both attended the meeting with the Pharoah of course, but the two of them could speak more freely away from the man, and honestly, in Narmer’s view, often came away with their best plans when Iahotep was not involved. The man might have been a good warrior once, but in the general’s mind, he’d spent too long behind the golden walls of the palace. Not that the sirdar would ever even breathe a word of such thoughts aloud, not even to Oso, who he had a good deal of trust in.
Narmer nodded to the man standing sentry outside the H’moghadam’s tent, and cleared his throat to announce himself as he pushed the canvas aside to step within. Being out the wind was good, the nights cold once Nephys had spread her shadowed veil.
“Good evening,Osorsen”
Narmer waited for his friend to acknowledge him before he stepped further inside, eyes passing quickly around the general’s tent ; passed the gleaming khopesh settled so carefully on the weapons stand, passed the charts on the table that the general had obviously been studying. They were due to sail for Taengea in the next fortnight, just waiting on the final provisions to come in from the provinces.
Narmer had mixed feelings about this war. On one hand, he desperately needed the gold and good name that a successful campaign would offer. But on the other, he was loath to step away from the Hei again when it was foundering. Osorsen was one of the few that Narmer could speak openly with regarding the mounting problems he faced and he had come to value the older man’s counsel.
“You have not yet settled on our course?” he asked as he moved further inside and swept a hand toward the map table. He had thought that detail at least was finalised, but perhaps Oso had thoughts that he had not shared yet.
The camp was as settled as it was likely to be with a horde of soldiers gathered in one place. Fires burned and canvas fluttered slightly in the winds that rolled off the oceans. The skies had been clear that day but there felt something changeable in the air. Or perhaps he was just overwrought and reading signs that were not there. Narmer raised a hand towards the men by the fire as he walked past, bidding them to stay seated even as their General passed. They might be done for the night, but his day had not finished yet, and he had agreed earlier to meet with Osorsen.
They had both attended the meeting with the Pharoah of course, but the two of them could speak more freely away from the man, and honestly, in Narmer’s view, often came away with their best plans when Iahotep was not involved. The man might have been a good warrior once, but in the general’s mind, he’d spent too long behind the golden walls of the palace. Not that the sirdar would ever even breathe a word of such thoughts aloud, not even to Oso, who he had a good deal of trust in.
Narmer nodded to the man standing sentry outside the H’moghadam’s tent, and cleared his throat to announce himself as he pushed the canvas aside to step within. Being out the wind was good, the nights cold once Nephys had spread her shadowed veil.
“Good evening,Osorsen”
Narmer waited for his friend to acknowledge him before he stepped further inside, eyes passing quickly around the general’s tent ; passed the gleaming khopesh settled so carefully on the weapons stand, passed the charts on the table that the general had obviously been studying. They were due to sail for Taengea in the next fortnight, just waiting on the final provisions to come in from the provinces.
Narmer had mixed feelings about this war. On one hand, he desperately needed the gold and good name that a successful campaign would offer. But on the other, he was loath to step away from the Hei again when it was foundering. Osorsen was one of the few that Narmer could speak openly with regarding the mounting problems he faced and he had come to value the older man’s counsel.
“You have not yet settled on our course?” he asked as he moved further inside and swept a hand toward the map table. He had thought that detail at least was finalised, but perhaps Oso had thoughts that he had not shared yet.
Every time he had to meet with him, show any kind of deference or respect for him, Oso felt himself struggle to keep his composure. It was a true test of his patience and acting abilities, making the insane old man think he was still the same loyal friend and deputy he had once been before the betrayal that had passed between them. It was lucky he had his own copies of reports and maps to ensure that they had what they needed to win this war and minimize the casualties.
The pharaoh seemed content to throw away lives as if it was nothing, and while their force did seem to substantially outnumber the Greeks, he had no interest in acting as if his men did not matter more than any other animal for slaughter. Iahotep sought victory and prestige, Oso wanted to bring his men home to their families. Perhaps it was the softness in his heart that had cost him everything he wanted. If he'd been brutally vicious enough he could have defied the orders that sent him away and fought for Hatshepsut's hand in his own right instead of having what he'd accomplished stolen from him.
A platter of food was set out, but he was focused with his wine in his hand, staring at the correspondence from the capitol and the reports of those who had been watching the coast for the approach of the Greeks. It was moments like this he missed Mayet most. When he was at home doing this sort of work it helped to have her in his lap, her hands brushing through his hair, turning to speak to her absently when he needed to think things through out loud or hear another opinion. Narmer wasn't anywhere near as pretty, and he didn't think the other man would play with his hair, but his clever outlook on things would be just as helpful.
When the man arrived Oso gave a nod, his slave and valet Rafa offering Narmer a cup of wine before vanishing until he was called for again. Setting aside the latest news, the general gave a hum and shook his head. The course the pharaoh wanted them to take would bring them directly to the harbor of the Taengean capitol, a show of force and might that he didn't doubt that they could win. There would be a large loss of life and supplies in such an attack though, and he looked at the chain of islands with a considering gaze.
"Our course has me considering things..." Pointing to the southernmost island at the barony holdings he traced the line from that harbor to the capitol. "It seems to me, if we sail straight into Vasiliadon, we could overtake their defenses. But it is a long journey without any rest for the men, and they would be able to see us coming for miles before we could do any damage."
Looking to Narmer to get his first reaction, dark eyes shone from under a furrowed brow. "Would we not benefit from perhaps taking this holding, refreshing our supplies, and then launching from here, and landing not at the capitol, but on this beach where there is nothing but a small vishing village." He gestured to the map, tracing out the distance with his thumb and forefinger. "If we land here, and approach from the land while they watch the sea, we will have the upper hand, fresher men and supplies, and save ships and lives. What are your thoughts?"
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Every time he had to meet with him, show any kind of deference or respect for him, Oso felt himself struggle to keep his composure. It was a true test of his patience and acting abilities, making the insane old man think he was still the same loyal friend and deputy he had once been before the betrayal that had passed between them. It was lucky he had his own copies of reports and maps to ensure that they had what they needed to win this war and minimize the casualties.
The pharaoh seemed content to throw away lives as if it was nothing, and while their force did seem to substantially outnumber the Greeks, he had no interest in acting as if his men did not matter more than any other animal for slaughter. Iahotep sought victory and prestige, Oso wanted to bring his men home to their families. Perhaps it was the softness in his heart that had cost him everything he wanted. If he'd been brutally vicious enough he could have defied the orders that sent him away and fought for Hatshepsut's hand in his own right instead of having what he'd accomplished stolen from him.
A platter of food was set out, but he was focused with his wine in his hand, staring at the correspondence from the capitol and the reports of those who had been watching the coast for the approach of the Greeks. It was moments like this he missed Mayet most. When he was at home doing this sort of work it helped to have her in his lap, her hands brushing through his hair, turning to speak to her absently when he needed to think things through out loud or hear another opinion. Narmer wasn't anywhere near as pretty, and he didn't think the other man would play with his hair, but his clever outlook on things would be just as helpful.
When the man arrived Oso gave a nod, his slave and valet Rafa offering Narmer a cup of wine before vanishing until he was called for again. Setting aside the latest news, the general gave a hum and shook his head. The course the pharaoh wanted them to take would bring them directly to the harbor of the Taengean capitol, a show of force and might that he didn't doubt that they could win. There would be a large loss of life and supplies in such an attack though, and he looked at the chain of islands with a considering gaze.
"Our course has me considering things..." Pointing to the southernmost island at the barony holdings he traced the line from that harbor to the capitol. "It seems to me, if we sail straight into Vasiliadon, we could overtake their defenses. But it is a long journey without any rest for the men, and they would be able to see us coming for miles before we could do any damage."
Looking to Narmer to get his first reaction, dark eyes shone from under a furrowed brow. "Would we not benefit from perhaps taking this holding, refreshing our supplies, and then launching from here, and landing not at the capitol, but on this beach where there is nothing but a small vishing village." He gestured to the map, tracing out the distance with his thumb and forefinger. "If we land here, and approach from the land while they watch the sea, we will have the upper hand, fresher men and supplies, and save ships and lives. What are your thoughts?"
Every time he had to meet with him, show any kind of deference or respect for him, Oso felt himself struggle to keep his composure. It was a true test of his patience and acting abilities, making the insane old man think he was still the same loyal friend and deputy he had once been before the betrayal that had passed between them. It was lucky he had his own copies of reports and maps to ensure that they had what they needed to win this war and minimize the casualties.
The pharaoh seemed content to throw away lives as if it was nothing, and while their force did seem to substantially outnumber the Greeks, he had no interest in acting as if his men did not matter more than any other animal for slaughter. Iahotep sought victory and prestige, Oso wanted to bring his men home to their families. Perhaps it was the softness in his heart that had cost him everything he wanted. If he'd been brutally vicious enough he could have defied the orders that sent him away and fought for Hatshepsut's hand in his own right instead of having what he'd accomplished stolen from him.
A platter of food was set out, but he was focused with his wine in his hand, staring at the correspondence from the capitol and the reports of those who had been watching the coast for the approach of the Greeks. It was moments like this he missed Mayet most. When he was at home doing this sort of work it helped to have her in his lap, her hands brushing through his hair, turning to speak to her absently when he needed to think things through out loud or hear another opinion. Narmer wasn't anywhere near as pretty, and he didn't think the other man would play with his hair, but his clever outlook on things would be just as helpful.
When the man arrived Oso gave a nod, his slave and valet Rafa offering Narmer a cup of wine before vanishing until he was called for again. Setting aside the latest news, the general gave a hum and shook his head. The course the pharaoh wanted them to take would bring them directly to the harbor of the Taengean capitol, a show of force and might that he didn't doubt that they could win. There would be a large loss of life and supplies in such an attack though, and he looked at the chain of islands with a considering gaze.
"Our course has me considering things..." Pointing to the southernmost island at the barony holdings he traced the line from that harbor to the capitol. "It seems to me, if we sail straight into Vasiliadon, we could overtake their defenses. But it is a long journey without any rest for the men, and they would be able to see us coming for miles before we could do any damage."
Looking to Narmer to get his first reaction, dark eyes shone from under a furrowed brow. "Would we not benefit from perhaps taking this holding, refreshing our supplies, and then launching from here, and landing not at the capitol, but on this beach where there is nothing but a small vishing village." He gestured to the map, tracing out the distance with his thumb and forefinger. "If we land here, and approach from the land while they watch the sea, we will have the upper hand, fresher men and supplies, and save ships and lives. What are your thoughts?"
The wine was received with a nod of acknowledgement to the slave, a familiar fixture at Osorsen’s side. Narmer raised the cup to his lips and drank even as he moved to look over the charts that his friend was poring over. Narmer had never set foot on the Greek islands, had not accompanied Oso when he was dispatched to meet with the new king only a matter of months ago. It seemed as those they had another new king now, and maybe even one in-between. Such fickle leadership made no sense to Narmer, it was as if the Greeks were so arrogant that they did not even consider how such instability would be a weakness, an opportunity to their enemies. And like the man before him, the H’aikaddad sirdar was not one to turn away from such an opening.
Dark eyes, always moving, they sometimes gave Narmer the appearance of a startled rabbit, but he knew what he was looking for as he listened to Osorsen’s suggestion. Narmer lowered the cup to hover in front of his chest and tilted his head a little, tapping his finger once on the settlement Osorsen had indicated.
“If they know we are coming then the Taengean’s would have to be stupid in the extreme not to have scouts placed along the coast. You know them better than me, but to assume we could land and keep any degree of surprise seems wishful thinking.”
His fingers walked a little way inland. “Here though, at least the chariots would be more use to us. So it could work in our favour to draw them out of their city to meet us anyway” He paused, took another sip of wine and then added as an afterthought. “ We could do both. Sail to assault the capital whilst another force takes the provinces.”
Osorsen had said much of the beauty of the lands he had seen, and the opportunity for wealth too. That had stuck out in Narmer’s memories and he wondered if maybe the answer to all of his problems could lie in these green islands that the Pharoah so coveted.
Having added his thoughts to those of his fellow general, Narmer moved away just enough to fold himself into the small chair set for any guests Osorsen might receive. He felt twitchy and on edge, even more so than usual and made an observation as to the fact. “The men are saying there will be a storm, though the skies are clear now. It is good the ships are protected by the headland.”
Their main fleet was some way down the coast in a large bay that curved deeply. They would not suffer from any foul weather, though Narmer would admit freely he didn’t like sleeping under canvas when the winds were wild. With a sigh, the sirdar kicked out his legs and crossed them at the ankle, trying to relax a little in the presence of his friend. “He does not intend to sail, you don’t think?”
He didn’t think he needed to clarify who he referred to, nor did Narmer want to make it obvious who they discussed,but his expression revealed precisely what he thought of the idea.
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The wine was received with a nod of acknowledgement to the slave, a familiar fixture at Osorsen’s side. Narmer raised the cup to his lips and drank even as he moved to look over the charts that his friend was poring over. Narmer had never set foot on the Greek islands, had not accompanied Oso when he was dispatched to meet with the new king only a matter of months ago. It seemed as those they had another new king now, and maybe even one in-between. Such fickle leadership made no sense to Narmer, it was as if the Greeks were so arrogant that they did not even consider how such instability would be a weakness, an opportunity to their enemies. And like the man before him, the H’aikaddad sirdar was not one to turn away from such an opening.
Dark eyes, always moving, they sometimes gave Narmer the appearance of a startled rabbit, but he knew what he was looking for as he listened to Osorsen’s suggestion. Narmer lowered the cup to hover in front of his chest and tilted his head a little, tapping his finger once on the settlement Osorsen had indicated.
“If they know we are coming then the Taengean’s would have to be stupid in the extreme not to have scouts placed along the coast. You know them better than me, but to assume we could land and keep any degree of surprise seems wishful thinking.”
His fingers walked a little way inland. “Here though, at least the chariots would be more use to us. So it could work in our favour to draw them out of their city to meet us anyway” He paused, took another sip of wine and then added as an afterthought. “ We could do both. Sail to assault the capital whilst another force takes the provinces.”
Osorsen had said much of the beauty of the lands he had seen, and the opportunity for wealth too. That had stuck out in Narmer’s memories and he wondered if maybe the answer to all of his problems could lie in these green islands that the Pharoah so coveted.
Having added his thoughts to those of his fellow general, Narmer moved away just enough to fold himself into the small chair set for any guests Osorsen might receive. He felt twitchy and on edge, even more so than usual and made an observation as to the fact. “The men are saying there will be a storm, though the skies are clear now. It is good the ships are protected by the headland.”
Their main fleet was some way down the coast in a large bay that curved deeply. They would not suffer from any foul weather, though Narmer would admit freely he didn’t like sleeping under canvas when the winds were wild. With a sigh, the sirdar kicked out his legs and crossed them at the ankle, trying to relax a little in the presence of his friend. “He does not intend to sail, you don’t think?”
He didn’t think he needed to clarify who he referred to, nor did Narmer want to make it obvious who they discussed,but his expression revealed precisely what he thought of the idea.
The wine was received with a nod of acknowledgement to the slave, a familiar fixture at Osorsen’s side. Narmer raised the cup to his lips and drank even as he moved to look over the charts that his friend was poring over. Narmer had never set foot on the Greek islands, had not accompanied Oso when he was dispatched to meet with the new king only a matter of months ago. It seemed as those they had another new king now, and maybe even one in-between. Such fickle leadership made no sense to Narmer, it was as if the Greeks were so arrogant that they did not even consider how such instability would be a weakness, an opportunity to their enemies. And like the man before him, the H’aikaddad sirdar was not one to turn away from such an opening.
Dark eyes, always moving, they sometimes gave Narmer the appearance of a startled rabbit, but he knew what he was looking for as he listened to Osorsen’s suggestion. Narmer lowered the cup to hover in front of his chest and tilted his head a little, tapping his finger once on the settlement Osorsen had indicated.
“If they know we are coming then the Taengean’s would have to be stupid in the extreme not to have scouts placed along the coast. You know them better than me, but to assume we could land and keep any degree of surprise seems wishful thinking.”
His fingers walked a little way inland. “Here though, at least the chariots would be more use to us. So it could work in our favour to draw them out of their city to meet us anyway” He paused, took another sip of wine and then added as an afterthought. “ We could do both. Sail to assault the capital whilst another force takes the provinces.”
Osorsen had said much of the beauty of the lands he had seen, and the opportunity for wealth too. That had stuck out in Narmer’s memories and he wondered if maybe the answer to all of his problems could lie in these green islands that the Pharoah so coveted.
Having added his thoughts to those of his fellow general, Narmer moved away just enough to fold himself into the small chair set for any guests Osorsen might receive. He felt twitchy and on edge, even more so than usual and made an observation as to the fact. “The men are saying there will be a storm, though the skies are clear now. It is good the ships are protected by the headland.”
Their main fleet was some way down the coast in a large bay that curved deeply. They would not suffer from any foul weather, though Narmer would admit freely he didn’t like sleeping under canvas when the winds were wild. With a sigh, the sirdar kicked out his legs and crossed them at the ankle, trying to relax a little in the presence of his friend. “He does not intend to sail, you don’t think?”
He didn’t think he needed to clarify who he referred to, nor did Narmer want to make it obvious who they discussed,but his expression revealed precisely what he thought of the idea.
"That would assume they knew we were coming. I have no doubt they will have guards placed to watch for us at the capitol, but will they stretch their forces to watch the entire coast of the island?"
Osorsen took a drink of his own wine, brow furrowed in thought as he watched where Narmer's fingers traced along the map. He had a good point, if they could land there it would be an optimal place to launch the chariots through the flatter ground and approach the capitol that way. What they didn't know was if any of the fleet of Greek ships had made it back to Taengea to warn them, or what kind of force had been left behind.
It was difficult to determine what the leadership of the northern nation would do, especially this particular kingdom that had gone through so many monarchs in less than a year. When the first king had been killed Osorsen had thought it was a horrible shock to the system, but at least it had appeared that a son had replaced him and the country seemed stable enough for Greeks. But the sudden upheaval that had occurred when he was present, the uncle overturning the son had been the triggering event for this new war, and that had not been the end of their changes. Now the nephew of the first king sat on a throne that had been the downfall of three men prior to him, four if you counted the heir that had been killed before. It was enough to make his head spin.
"I hesitate to split our forces, but we had a decisive victory on the beach, whatever remains will be scattered and not likely much use to defend. It could be done. Perhaps we can convince Him to do the direct assaulting. A convenient glorious end if we kept back enough troops." It was only to Narmer that he could consider speaking like this, even in such a veiled tone. "I do not think we will have difficulties claiming victory in this."
Allowing himself permission to sit for a moment, Osorsen found a chair where he could still look to the map as he drank his wine pensively. If there was only a way to remove Iahotep during this war, how perfect it would be. As long as he made it back to Hatshepsut's side before any other false pharaoh could be put on the throne instead of him. The letters from Fotios of Leventi had grown promising but he couldn't share that with Narmer just yet.
"He is foolish enough to do it. I only hope the storm blows through quickly."
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"That would assume they knew we were coming. I have no doubt they will have guards placed to watch for us at the capitol, but will they stretch their forces to watch the entire coast of the island?"
Osorsen took a drink of his own wine, brow furrowed in thought as he watched where Narmer's fingers traced along the map. He had a good point, if they could land there it would be an optimal place to launch the chariots through the flatter ground and approach the capitol that way. What they didn't know was if any of the fleet of Greek ships had made it back to Taengea to warn them, or what kind of force had been left behind.
It was difficult to determine what the leadership of the northern nation would do, especially this particular kingdom that had gone through so many monarchs in less than a year. When the first king had been killed Osorsen had thought it was a horrible shock to the system, but at least it had appeared that a son had replaced him and the country seemed stable enough for Greeks. But the sudden upheaval that had occurred when he was present, the uncle overturning the son had been the triggering event for this new war, and that had not been the end of their changes. Now the nephew of the first king sat on a throne that had been the downfall of three men prior to him, four if you counted the heir that had been killed before. It was enough to make his head spin.
"I hesitate to split our forces, but we had a decisive victory on the beach, whatever remains will be scattered and not likely much use to defend. It could be done. Perhaps we can convince Him to do the direct assaulting. A convenient glorious end if we kept back enough troops." It was only to Narmer that he could consider speaking like this, even in such a veiled tone. "I do not think we will have difficulties claiming victory in this."
Allowing himself permission to sit for a moment, Osorsen found a chair where he could still look to the map as he drank his wine pensively. If there was only a way to remove Iahotep during this war, how perfect it would be. As long as he made it back to Hatshepsut's side before any other false pharaoh could be put on the throne instead of him. The letters from Fotios of Leventi had grown promising but he couldn't share that with Narmer just yet.
"He is foolish enough to do it. I only hope the storm blows through quickly."
"That would assume they knew we were coming. I have no doubt they will have guards placed to watch for us at the capitol, but will they stretch their forces to watch the entire coast of the island?"
Osorsen took a drink of his own wine, brow furrowed in thought as he watched where Narmer's fingers traced along the map. He had a good point, if they could land there it would be an optimal place to launch the chariots through the flatter ground and approach the capitol that way. What they didn't know was if any of the fleet of Greek ships had made it back to Taengea to warn them, or what kind of force had been left behind.
It was difficult to determine what the leadership of the northern nation would do, especially this particular kingdom that had gone through so many monarchs in less than a year. When the first king had been killed Osorsen had thought it was a horrible shock to the system, but at least it had appeared that a son had replaced him and the country seemed stable enough for Greeks. But the sudden upheaval that had occurred when he was present, the uncle overturning the son had been the triggering event for this new war, and that had not been the end of their changes. Now the nephew of the first king sat on a throne that had been the downfall of three men prior to him, four if you counted the heir that had been killed before. It was enough to make his head spin.
"I hesitate to split our forces, but we had a decisive victory on the beach, whatever remains will be scattered and not likely much use to defend. It could be done. Perhaps we can convince Him to do the direct assaulting. A convenient glorious end if we kept back enough troops." It was only to Narmer that he could consider speaking like this, even in such a veiled tone. "I do not think we will have difficulties claiming victory in this."
Allowing himself permission to sit for a moment, Osorsen found a chair where he could still look to the map as he drank his wine pensively. If there was only a way to remove Iahotep during this war, how perfect it would be. As long as he made it back to Hatshepsut's side before any other false pharaoh could be put on the throne instead of him. The letters from Fotios of Leventi had grown promising but he couldn't share that with Narmer just yet.
"He is foolish enough to do it. I only hope the storm blows through quickly."
Narmer listened well to Osorsen’s words. He had great respect for the man born over their years serving alongside one another, and he knew that his fellow General’s plans were mostly well thought out and reasoned. And Osorsen knew these particular Greeks better than he, after all.
“It depends how nervy they are” he answered. The Grecian kingdoms would no doubt have heard of the Pharaoh’s declaration of war, and he could not imagine that a county rocked by such a rapid change in monarch would not feel the pinch of fear at that. Unless they were truly so arrogant as to think their feeble armies would stand a chance against the great might of Egypt.
When he sat, his knee bounced slightly despite his efforts to relax, and he considered the conflict that they had seen so far with their Grecian foes. The numbers of the Taengean forces had been laughably small; he could not help but think them only a prelude. They had admittedly shown some gall in digging in their heels and even attempting to make a stand against the hundreds of warriors Narmer had available to throw at them, but even that had not withstood once their so-called King had been injured.
Narmer had dispatched a couple of men to try and locate any stragglers, but most of the Taengean’s were now corpses being burned or prisoners of the Pharoah. It was a shame they had not managed to capture the most valuable, but Narmer did not think the man would make it back to his island. He didn’t know where the order had come from, but poisoned arrows tended to be efficient at what they were designed for.
Refocusing on Oso as the General spoke once more, Narmer gave a nod, his eyes darting once toward the canvas opening of the tent before he allowed himself a small smile at what his friend suggested. To talk of such things, even to think them, was treason, and usually, Narmer would feel guilty at even the thought. But he knew enough of their great Pharoah and how the man had risen to such heights to know it no great injustice to wish for the man’s downfall.
“It would be a bold move, befitting of one such as He” the younger man deferred with a small nod. “Maybe you should suggest it.”
When Osorsen spoke of the storm, Narmer made a slight noise of unease. “I suppose we should be grateful that it blew the greeks back onto our shores. Maybe they saw the worst of it already. When do you intend, we sail?”
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Narmer listened well to Osorsen’s words. He had great respect for the man born over their years serving alongside one another, and he knew that his fellow General’s plans were mostly well thought out and reasoned. And Osorsen knew these particular Greeks better than he, after all.
“It depends how nervy they are” he answered. The Grecian kingdoms would no doubt have heard of the Pharaoh’s declaration of war, and he could not imagine that a county rocked by such a rapid change in monarch would not feel the pinch of fear at that. Unless they were truly so arrogant as to think their feeble armies would stand a chance against the great might of Egypt.
When he sat, his knee bounced slightly despite his efforts to relax, and he considered the conflict that they had seen so far with their Grecian foes. The numbers of the Taengean forces had been laughably small; he could not help but think them only a prelude. They had admittedly shown some gall in digging in their heels and even attempting to make a stand against the hundreds of warriors Narmer had available to throw at them, but even that had not withstood once their so-called King had been injured.
Narmer had dispatched a couple of men to try and locate any stragglers, but most of the Taengean’s were now corpses being burned or prisoners of the Pharoah. It was a shame they had not managed to capture the most valuable, but Narmer did not think the man would make it back to his island. He didn’t know where the order had come from, but poisoned arrows tended to be efficient at what they were designed for.
Refocusing on Oso as the General spoke once more, Narmer gave a nod, his eyes darting once toward the canvas opening of the tent before he allowed himself a small smile at what his friend suggested. To talk of such things, even to think them, was treason, and usually, Narmer would feel guilty at even the thought. But he knew enough of their great Pharoah and how the man had risen to such heights to know it no great injustice to wish for the man’s downfall.
“It would be a bold move, befitting of one such as He” the younger man deferred with a small nod. “Maybe you should suggest it.”
When Osorsen spoke of the storm, Narmer made a slight noise of unease. “I suppose we should be grateful that it blew the greeks back onto our shores. Maybe they saw the worst of it already. When do you intend, we sail?”
Narmer listened well to Osorsen’s words. He had great respect for the man born over their years serving alongside one another, and he knew that his fellow General’s plans were mostly well thought out and reasoned. And Osorsen knew these particular Greeks better than he, after all.
“It depends how nervy they are” he answered. The Grecian kingdoms would no doubt have heard of the Pharaoh’s declaration of war, and he could not imagine that a county rocked by such a rapid change in monarch would not feel the pinch of fear at that. Unless they were truly so arrogant as to think their feeble armies would stand a chance against the great might of Egypt.
When he sat, his knee bounced slightly despite his efforts to relax, and he considered the conflict that they had seen so far with their Grecian foes. The numbers of the Taengean forces had been laughably small; he could not help but think them only a prelude. They had admittedly shown some gall in digging in their heels and even attempting to make a stand against the hundreds of warriors Narmer had available to throw at them, but even that had not withstood once their so-called King had been injured.
Narmer had dispatched a couple of men to try and locate any stragglers, but most of the Taengean’s were now corpses being burned or prisoners of the Pharoah. It was a shame they had not managed to capture the most valuable, but Narmer did not think the man would make it back to his island. He didn’t know where the order had come from, but poisoned arrows tended to be efficient at what they were designed for.
Refocusing on Oso as the General spoke once more, Narmer gave a nod, his eyes darting once toward the canvas opening of the tent before he allowed himself a small smile at what his friend suggested. To talk of such things, even to think them, was treason, and usually, Narmer would feel guilty at even the thought. But he knew enough of their great Pharoah and how the man had risen to such heights to know it no great injustice to wish for the man’s downfall.
“It would be a bold move, befitting of one such as He” the younger man deferred with a small nod. “Maybe you should suggest it.”
When Osorsen spoke of the storm, Narmer made a slight noise of unease. “I suppose we should be grateful that it blew the greeks back onto our shores. Maybe they saw the worst of it already. When do you intend, we sail?”
"It is difficult to say. A country who changes kings four times in less than a year and still feels bold enough to attack on Egyptian soil shows more nerve than is wise."
Accustomed to the little jiggles and twitches of his friend Osorsen paid no attention to the way Narmer's knee bounced, focused on the map before them instead and wondering if it would be possible to convince Iahotep to go in on his own. There was little love lost for the pharaoh among the lower ranked troops, most of them had been supportive of him when he took his place as pharaoh, thinking foolishly that he might remember that he himself had been one of them when he first started out. Instead Iahotep had gone about alienating as many people as he could, and now the men fighting in the sand for him had lost some faith.
"If I suggest it, do you think he would do it?" There was an uncertain ground between himself and the pharaoh. He had done his best to play the faithful servant and brother at arms as he had in the past, as if his mentor was still the man he looked up to and not the one who hurt so many he cared about. Zoser's bruises, the fear in Hatshepsut's eyes when she spoke of her husband, he knew that Iahotep had been a rough man before he'd had such power, he could only imagine the way she was abusing it now. "Does he trust me still, or look to put an arrow in me like the Taengean king."
Poison arrows were bad business. Osorsen despised the use of them, for if you could not bring a man down honorably with your bow or sword skill it was cheating to use something of that sort. He'd sent one of his own men to a poison vendor to seek an antidote to give the king when he was finally found. If he survived the first one of course.
"We can suggest it, at the next meeting. I have no plans to sail until we are certain that there are no Greeks on our shores to attack when we go north. Our scouts said there had been ships sighted along the coast, and if its Colchians..." His teeth bared in a savage sort of smile, more a snarl than anything as he thought of Vangelis of Kotas. He would be on board one of those ships and Oso had unfinished business with the foreign general. "We will have more difficulty against them than we would the Taengeans. Their king for his faults has been in power a long while with a good deal of support. He will not topple easily."
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"It is difficult to say. A country who changes kings four times in less than a year and still feels bold enough to attack on Egyptian soil shows more nerve than is wise."
Accustomed to the little jiggles and twitches of his friend Osorsen paid no attention to the way Narmer's knee bounced, focused on the map before them instead and wondering if it would be possible to convince Iahotep to go in on his own. There was little love lost for the pharaoh among the lower ranked troops, most of them had been supportive of him when he took his place as pharaoh, thinking foolishly that he might remember that he himself had been one of them when he first started out. Instead Iahotep had gone about alienating as many people as he could, and now the men fighting in the sand for him had lost some faith.
"If I suggest it, do you think he would do it?" There was an uncertain ground between himself and the pharaoh. He had done his best to play the faithful servant and brother at arms as he had in the past, as if his mentor was still the man he looked up to and not the one who hurt so many he cared about. Zoser's bruises, the fear in Hatshepsut's eyes when she spoke of her husband, he knew that Iahotep had been a rough man before he'd had such power, he could only imagine the way she was abusing it now. "Does he trust me still, or look to put an arrow in me like the Taengean king."
Poison arrows were bad business. Osorsen despised the use of them, for if you could not bring a man down honorably with your bow or sword skill it was cheating to use something of that sort. He'd sent one of his own men to a poison vendor to seek an antidote to give the king when he was finally found. If he survived the first one of course.
"We can suggest it, at the next meeting. I have no plans to sail until we are certain that there are no Greeks on our shores to attack when we go north. Our scouts said there had been ships sighted along the coast, and if its Colchians..." His teeth bared in a savage sort of smile, more a snarl than anything as he thought of Vangelis of Kotas. He would be on board one of those ships and Oso had unfinished business with the foreign general. "We will have more difficulty against them than we would the Taengeans. Their king for his faults has been in power a long while with a good deal of support. He will not topple easily."
"It is difficult to say. A country who changes kings four times in less than a year and still feels bold enough to attack on Egyptian soil shows more nerve than is wise."
Accustomed to the little jiggles and twitches of his friend Osorsen paid no attention to the way Narmer's knee bounced, focused on the map before them instead and wondering if it would be possible to convince Iahotep to go in on his own. There was little love lost for the pharaoh among the lower ranked troops, most of them had been supportive of him when he took his place as pharaoh, thinking foolishly that he might remember that he himself had been one of them when he first started out. Instead Iahotep had gone about alienating as many people as he could, and now the men fighting in the sand for him had lost some faith.
"If I suggest it, do you think he would do it?" There was an uncertain ground between himself and the pharaoh. He had done his best to play the faithful servant and brother at arms as he had in the past, as if his mentor was still the man he looked up to and not the one who hurt so many he cared about. Zoser's bruises, the fear in Hatshepsut's eyes when she spoke of her husband, he knew that Iahotep had been a rough man before he'd had such power, he could only imagine the way she was abusing it now. "Does he trust me still, or look to put an arrow in me like the Taengean king."
Poison arrows were bad business. Osorsen despised the use of them, for if you could not bring a man down honorably with your bow or sword skill it was cheating to use something of that sort. He'd sent one of his own men to a poison vendor to seek an antidote to give the king when he was finally found. If he survived the first one of course.
"We can suggest it, at the next meeting. I have no plans to sail until we are certain that there are no Greeks on our shores to attack when we go north. Our scouts said there had been ships sighted along the coast, and if its Colchians..." His teeth bared in a savage sort of smile, more a snarl than anything as he thought of Vangelis of Kotas. He would be on board one of those ships and Oso had unfinished business with the foreign general. "We will have more difficulty against them than we would the Taengeans. Their king for his faults has been in power a long while with a good deal of support. He will not topple easily."
Narmer could hardly disagree with Osorsen’s words, but the hand holding his wine lifted, one finger uncurled from around the cup and raising as if to tell the man pause. Whatever the Taengean’s intentions had been, he couldn’t imagine it had included seeing their King injured and their men in chains. If word of that reached the greek kingdom before they did then they would be in an even stronger position. “Ah, but their numbers didn’t suggest an attacking force. Either that or their latest leader is more fool than King.”
Which was not impossible. If there was anything recent times had told him, it was that power did not equal intelligence. Narmer shifted in his seat, tilted his head to one side and then other as he considered that in relation to his friend’ question.
“You haven’t done anything so he wouldn’t trust you, have you?” he asked, settling his gaze briefly upon the other before it rolled away and the Haikaddad man looked down into his cup. He would hardly be the one told if the Pharoah had any such plans, his friendship with Osorsen too well known. Not unless it was just to send a thinly veiled message to the H’Moghadam General.
“If nothing else, he needs you to win this war so I wouldn’t count on an arrow with your name upon it, my friend.”
Not that the Pharoah was a terribly predictable man in that fashion. Narmer approached him like he would a venomous snake, always wary of a bite. His eyes darted again toward the flaps of the tent because to speak such things was risky, and while he trusted Oso with his life, there were those here that he did not.
“A two-pronged attack is a sensible suggestion. He will see the merits of such a plan, I’m sure.” But if what Oso said was correct then their plans might be a non-issue. “How many ships? Stragglers from the Taengean’s perhaps who weathered the storm? If it is the Colchians then yes..things may have to change.”
He eyed his friend curiously, for there was something in the way he spoke that made Narmer think Osorsen would relish the opportunity to meet the fierce Greeks again. He’d been older than Narmer in the last war; maybe there was bad blood there. “They will topple. No matter how many Kings they trot out. These lands are ours. Our men can fight in the heat of the day and the cold of the night...our men know where to hide if the sands whip up again. They are stupid to bring the fight to us.”
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Narmer could hardly disagree with Osorsen’s words, but the hand holding his wine lifted, one finger uncurled from around the cup and raising as if to tell the man pause. Whatever the Taengean’s intentions had been, he couldn’t imagine it had included seeing their King injured and their men in chains. If word of that reached the greek kingdom before they did then they would be in an even stronger position. “Ah, but their numbers didn’t suggest an attacking force. Either that or their latest leader is more fool than King.”
Which was not impossible. If there was anything recent times had told him, it was that power did not equal intelligence. Narmer shifted in his seat, tilted his head to one side and then other as he considered that in relation to his friend’ question.
“You haven’t done anything so he wouldn’t trust you, have you?” he asked, settling his gaze briefly upon the other before it rolled away and the Haikaddad man looked down into his cup. He would hardly be the one told if the Pharoah had any such plans, his friendship with Osorsen too well known. Not unless it was just to send a thinly veiled message to the H’Moghadam General.
“If nothing else, he needs you to win this war so I wouldn’t count on an arrow with your name upon it, my friend.”
Not that the Pharoah was a terribly predictable man in that fashion. Narmer approached him like he would a venomous snake, always wary of a bite. His eyes darted again toward the flaps of the tent because to speak such things was risky, and while he trusted Oso with his life, there were those here that he did not.
“A two-pronged attack is a sensible suggestion. He will see the merits of such a plan, I’m sure.” But if what Oso said was correct then their plans might be a non-issue. “How many ships? Stragglers from the Taengean’s perhaps who weathered the storm? If it is the Colchians then yes..things may have to change.”
He eyed his friend curiously, for there was something in the way he spoke that made Narmer think Osorsen would relish the opportunity to meet the fierce Greeks again. He’d been older than Narmer in the last war; maybe there was bad blood there. “They will topple. No matter how many Kings they trot out. These lands are ours. Our men can fight in the heat of the day and the cold of the night...our men know where to hide if the sands whip up again. They are stupid to bring the fight to us.”
Narmer could hardly disagree with Osorsen’s words, but the hand holding his wine lifted, one finger uncurled from around the cup and raising as if to tell the man pause. Whatever the Taengean’s intentions had been, he couldn’t imagine it had included seeing their King injured and their men in chains. If word of that reached the greek kingdom before they did then they would be in an even stronger position. “Ah, but their numbers didn’t suggest an attacking force. Either that or their latest leader is more fool than King.”
Which was not impossible. If there was anything recent times had told him, it was that power did not equal intelligence. Narmer shifted in his seat, tilted his head to one side and then other as he considered that in relation to his friend’ question.
“You haven’t done anything so he wouldn’t trust you, have you?” he asked, settling his gaze briefly upon the other before it rolled away and the Haikaddad man looked down into his cup. He would hardly be the one told if the Pharoah had any such plans, his friendship with Osorsen too well known. Not unless it was just to send a thinly veiled message to the H’Moghadam General.
“If nothing else, he needs you to win this war so I wouldn’t count on an arrow with your name upon it, my friend.”
Not that the Pharoah was a terribly predictable man in that fashion. Narmer approached him like he would a venomous snake, always wary of a bite. His eyes darted again toward the flaps of the tent because to speak such things was risky, and while he trusted Oso with his life, there were those here that he did not.
“A two-pronged attack is a sensible suggestion. He will see the merits of such a plan, I’m sure.” But if what Oso said was correct then their plans might be a non-issue. “How many ships? Stragglers from the Taengean’s perhaps who weathered the storm? If it is the Colchians then yes..things may have to change.”
He eyed his friend curiously, for there was something in the way he spoke that made Narmer think Osorsen would relish the opportunity to meet the fierce Greeks again. He’d been older than Narmer in the last war; maybe there was bad blood there. “They will topple. No matter how many Kings they trot out. These lands are ours. Our men can fight in the heat of the day and the cold of the night...our men know where to hide if the sands whip up again. They are stupid to bring the fight to us.”
"I don't know this king well, his father was an absolute prick but he seemed solid enough when we met." The memory of the night where Irakles had tried to parade about and pretend he was the king was always in his mind, mostly because it had been when he met Selene, but with her and Vangelis and Imeeya of Drakos spilling her guts about the weaknesses in the Greek kingdoms Achilleas of Mikaelidas had made little impression. Just, a normal Greek man without any remarkable qualities. It would be the death of them all to underestimate him though, just because he hadn't faced him on the battlefield before didn't mean he wasn't actually a better fighter than Vangelis of Kotas.
"Their plan to fire our ships was a good one in theory. If they'd managed to attack the correct force and fire them it would have prevented us from sailing to Taengea. Shame they got the decoys instead and the gods blew them back on our shores." Osorsen glanced over at Narmer as his friend said he hadn't done anything, wondering based on his past recent interactions with the pharaoh if there was any sort of suspicion or jealousy there. Certainly the old man was unhinged, more so than he had been before, but he didn't know what the old man knew.
Sitting back with a sigh he looked to the ceiling of the tent, as if he could see the map of the islands on the canvas above him and the different angles of attack and potential victory and defeat. It was a risky move, splitting their forces could mean that they lost a good deal of men more than he would like, and as much as he wanted to ensure Iahotep's death, it would mean losing good innocent men as well.
"My scouts reported thinking they could make out at least three, they were far off still when the first came running back but we should be hearing from the others when they know more. It wouldn't surprise me if we got Colchians and Taengeans together. They are allied after all. I would prefer to fight on our home soil, you're right." Osorsen considered the ceiling a moment longer before looking back to the map and sitting forward once more. "If we could manage to defeat them on our soil, we would still need to push forward. Then we might even be able to split into three, depending on the forces they have left. If we could manage to capture a king instead of cheating with poison arrows and losing them, we could certainly get a good deal of information from them."
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"I don't know this king well, his father was an absolute prick but he seemed solid enough when we met." The memory of the night where Irakles had tried to parade about and pretend he was the king was always in his mind, mostly because it had been when he met Selene, but with her and Vangelis and Imeeya of Drakos spilling her guts about the weaknesses in the Greek kingdoms Achilleas of Mikaelidas had made little impression. Just, a normal Greek man without any remarkable qualities. It would be the death of them all to underestimate him though, just because he hadn't faced him on the battlefield before didn't mean he wasn't actually a better fighter than Vangelis of Kotas.
"Their plan to fire our ships was a good one in theory. If they'd managed to attack the correct force and fire them it would have prevented us from sailing to Taengea. Shame they got the decoys instead and the gods blew them back on our shores." Osorsen glanced over at Narmer as his friend said he hadn't done anything, wondering based on his past recent interactions with the pharaoh if there was any sort of suspicion or jealousy there. Certainly the old man was unhinged, more so than he had been before, but he didn't know what the old man knew.
Sitting back with a sigh he looked to the ceiling of the tent, as if he could see the map of the islands on the canvas above him and the different angles of attack and potential victory and defeat. It was a risky move, splitting their forces could mean that they lost a good deal of men more than he would like, and as much as he wanted to ensure Iahotep's death, it would mean losing good innocent men as well.
"My scouts reported thinking they could make out at least three, they were far off still when the first came running back but we should be hearing from the others when they know more. It wouldn't surprise me if we got Colchians and Taengeans together. They are allied after all. I would prefer to fight on our home soil, you're right." Osorsen considered the ceiling a moment longer before looking back to the map and sitting forward once more. "If we could manage to defeat them on our soil, we would still need to push forward. Then we might even be able to split into three, depending on the forces they have left. If we could manage to capture a king instead of cheating with poison arrows and losing them, we could certainly get a good deal of information from them."
"I don't know this king well, his father was an absolute prick but he seemed solid enough when we met." The memory of the night where Irakles had tried to parade about and pretend he was the king was always in his mind, mostly because it had been when he met Selene, but with her and Vangelis and Imeeya of Drakos spilling her guts about the weaknesses in the Greek kingdoms Achilleas of Mikaelidas had made little impression. Just, a normal Greek man without any remarkable qualities. It would be the death of them all to underestimate him though, just because he hadn't faced him on the battlefield before didn't mean he wasn't actually a better fighter than Vangelis of Kotas.
"Their plan to fire our ships was a good one in theory. If they'd managed to attack the correct force and fire them it would have prevented us from sailing to Taengea. Shame they got the decoys instead and the gods blew them back on our shores." Osorsen glanced over at Narmer as his friend said he hadn't done anything, wondering based on his past recent interactions with the pharaoh if there was any sort of suspicion or jealousy there. Certainly the old man was unhinged, more so than he had been before, but he didn't know what the old man knew.
Sitting back with a sigh he looked to the ceiling of the tent, as if he could see the map of the islands on the canvas above him and the different angles of attack and potential victory and defeat. It was a risky move, splitting their forces could mean that they lost a good deal of men more than he would like, and as much as he wanted to ensure Iahotep's death, it would mean losing good innocent men as well.
"My scouts reported thinking they could make out at least three, they were far off still when the first came running back but we should be hearing from the others when they know more. It wouldn't surprise me if we got Colchians and Taengeans together. They are allied after all. I would prefer to fight on our home soil, you're right." Osorsen considered the ceiling a moment longer before looking back to the map and sitting forward once more. "If we could manage to defeat them on our soil, we would still need to push forward. Then we might even be able to split into three, depending on the forces they have left. If we could manage to capture a king instead of cheating with poison arrows and losing them, we could certainly get a good deal of information from them."
Narmer gave a non-committal shrug. A good plan was not worth anything if it went awry, and the Taengean’s plan definitely seemed to have done that. Oso certainly cared more about giving the greeks some credit than Narmer did. What mattered was that for now, victory had certainly been theirs to claim.
Talk of further ships meant more fighting on these shores though, and Narmer was already thinking about where it would suit them to intercept any more Greeks. The Taengeans had been fortunate where they had made land; the terrain had made it more difficult than it should have been to overthrow so few in number. If nothing else, he had been impressed at the organisation the handful of greeks had shown. Ideally, he would like to dictate the location of any future engagements so their enemies could not fall back on their tight formations.
But Osorsen was right, capturing a King would be much more helpful than losing one. The orders to shoot the Taengean king had come from the Pharoah himself, and it was an irritation that his schemings hadn’t been shared. It should have been an easy to thing to find him after that, but in the mess that had been the greeks defence falling apart, their leader had somehow managed to vanish into thin air. There was still the chance that he was amongst the dead of course, but the one greek slave Narmer had insisted work alongside his men clearing the bodies had said that none were who they would recognise.
“Will we have all three Kings delivered to us then?” he queried, looking sceptical for it seemed all too easy. “I thought...that one of the kingdoms had a girl Queen?” He didn’t keep up as much as he should with foreign affairs, having more than enough to keep him busy closer to home. Even now, the knowledge that he had to do something remarkable in this war to bring glory to his name was like a sack of sand he was carrying with him. Between that and trying to keep Kissan and Sutekh safe, Narmer was feeling the pressure.
Handing a greek King or two over to the Pharoah would be helpful.
“ You know this King by sight?” he asked of his friend because that would make it easier, certainly. The greeks looked so alike and wore so much armour that it was no easy thing to be able to spot their leaders as Narmer had come to see. He cast a wary glance at his friend before adding in a lower tone “Information yes, if someone doesn’t decide that the torture is just for fun.”
They both knew the Pharoah’s capability for cruelty could often outweigh his sense, and Narmer wouldn’t put it past the man to waste such an opportunity to learn of their foes.
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Narmer gave a non-committal shrug. A good plan was not worth anything if it went awry, and the Taengean’s plan definitely seemed to have done that. Oso certainly cared more about giving the greeks some credit than Narmer did. What mattered was that for now, victory had certainly been theirs to claim.
Talk of further ships meant more fighting on these shores though, and Narmer was already thinking about where it would suit them to intercept any more Greeks. The Taengeans had been fortunate where they had made land; the terrain had made it more difficult than it should have been to overthrow so few in number. If nothing else, he had been impressed at the organisation the handful of greeks had shown. Ideally, he would like to dictate the location of any future engagements so their enemies could not fall back on their tight formations.
But Osorsen was right, capturing a King would be much more helpful than losing one. The orders to shoot the Taengean king had come from the Pharoah himself, and it was an irritation that his schemings hadn’t been shared. It should have been an easy to thing to find him after that, but in the mess that had been the greeks defence falling apart, their leader had somehow managed to vanish into thin air. There was still the chance that he was amongst the dead of course, but the one greek slave Narmer had insisted work alongside his men clearing the bodies had said that none were who they would recognise.
“Will we have all three Kings delivered to us then?” he queried, looking sceptical for it seemed all too easy. “I thought...that one of the kingdoms had a girl Queen?” He didn’t keep up as much as he should with foreign affairs, having more than enough to keep him busy closer to home. Even now, the knowledge that he had to do something remarkable in this war to bring glory to his name was like a sack of sand he was carrying with him. Between that and trying to keep Kissan and Sutekh safe, Narmer was feeling the pressure.
Handing a greek King or two over to the Pharoah would be helpful.
“ You know this King by sight?” he asked of his friend because that would make it easier, certainly. The greeks looked so alike and wore so much armour that it was no easy thing to be able to spot their leaders as Narmer had come to see. He cast a wary glance at his friend before adding in a lower tone “Information yes, if someone doesn’t decide that the torture is just for fun.”
They both knew the Pharoah’s capability for cruelty could often outweigh his sense, and Narmer wouldn’t put it past the man to waste such an opportunity to learn of their foes.
Narmer gave a non-committal shrug. A good plan was not worth anything if it went awry, and the Taengean’s plan definitely seemed to have done that. Oso certainly cared more about giving the greeks some credit than Narmer did. What mattered was that for now, victory had certainly been theirs to claim.
Talk of further ships meant more fighting on these shores though, and Narmer was already thinking about where it would suit them to intercept any more Greeks. The Taengeans had been fortunate where they had made land; the terrain had made it more difficult than it should have been to overthrow so few in number. If nothing else, he had been impressed at the organisation the handful of greeks had shown. Ideally, he would like to dictate the location of any future engagements so their enemies could not fall back on their tight formations.
But Osorsen was right, capturing a King would be much more helpful than losing one. The orders to shoot the Taengean king had come from the Pharoah himself, and it was an irritation that his schemings hadn’t been shared. It should have been an easy to thing to find him after that, but in the mess that had been the greeks defence falling apart, their leader had somehow managed to vanish into thin air. There was still the chance that he was amongst the dead of course, but the one greek slave Narmer had insisted work alongside his men clearing the bodies had said that none were who they would recognise.
“Will we have all three Kings delivered to us then?” he queried, looking sceptical for it seemed all too easy. “I thought...that one of the kingdoms had a girl Queen?” He didn’t keep up as much as he should with foreign affairs, having more than enough to keep him busy closer to home. Even now, the knowledge that he had to do something remarkable in this war to bring glory to his name was like a sack of sand he was carrying with him. Between that and trying to keep Kissan and Sutekh safe, Narmer was feeling the pressure.
Handing a greek King or two over to the Pharoah would be helpful.
“ You know this King by sight?” he asked of his friend because that would make it easier, certainly. The greeks looked so alike and wore so much armour that it was no easy thing to be able to spot their leaders as Narmer had come to see. He cast a wary glance at his friend before adding in a lower tone “Information yes, if someone doesn’t decide that the torture is just for fun.”
They both knew the Pharoah’s capability for cruelty could often outweigh his sense, and Narmer wouldn’t put it past the man to waste such an opportunity to learn of their foes.
"It would appear the Taengeans have given us theirs, though likely he's dead by now if not dying. And the Colchians are always led by their king. If we manage to take him and his heir alive that would be leverage. Or even if we had one of them."
Oso pondered a moment, trying to think back on the reports that came from the Greek kingdoms and wondering if he'd seen that one of them was now ruled by a woman. He hadn't thought the northern people to be so open minded as to be ruled by a woman in name, as much as he and his people held for Hatshepsut in spite of her age. It was in moments like this he realized he should pay more attention to Zoser and his uncle's Greek loving ways. After all, the man had lived in Athenia for ten years, he would know best if they had a queen instead of a king.
"I don't know. It would be a surprise if they did. I heard of unrest in that kingdom as well, perhaps that was the cause." Refilling his glass of wine, Oso offered to pour more for his friend as well before sitting back in his chair and looking back to the map. He was wary to sail prematurely, afraid that leaving their shores undefended would mean that one or more of the kingdoms would be able to sneak around them somehow and make landfall. His greatest fear would be that Hatshepsut would have to face an attack alone, and as much as he wanted to believe that the men he'd left behind would protect his lover, there was an anxiety there he'd never felt before when he went off to war.
Perhaps it was because he had been quietly calculating in his mind, the little he knew of pregnancy was throwing him off, but he was almost certain that in the time he had been absent, and the time that she had been forced to marry Iahotep, there was a chance. A chance that the child that would inherit Egypt was actually his, and if that was the case he would do absolutely anything it took to ensure their inheritance. Whether he was ever able to marry its mother, he would mow down fields of Greeks on his own in order to keep it safe.
"I would know him, I believe. He is cousin to my dear enemy the prince of Colchis at any rate, they share some features. I'll be able to identify a body, or if they ever took off their helmets." It was obnoxious, the amount of armor the foreign country insisted their men carry. Did they not realize what a burden that would be in the desert, when the metal became heated by the sun? Far be it from him to make any sort of suggestion that might help his enemy, but he felt for the poor foot soldiers who would have to try to march against his own.
"We have to make sure he does not do it for fun. What point is this war if not to gain leverage over the Greeks."
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"It would appear the Taengeans have given us theirs, though likely he's dead by now if not dying. And the Colchians are always led by their king. If we manage to take him and his heir alive that would be leverage. Or even if we had one of them."
Oso pondered a moment, trying to think back on the reports that came from the Greek kingdoms and wondering if he'd seen that one of them was now ruled by a woman. He hadn't thought the northern people to be so open minded as to be ruled by a woman in name, as much as he and his people held for Hatshepsut in spite of her age. It was in moments like this he realized he should pay more attention to Zoser and his uncle's Greek loving ways. After all, the man had lived in Athenia for ten years, he would know best if they had a queen instead of a king.
"I don't know. It would be a surprise if they did. I heard of unrest in that kingdom as well, perhaps that was the cause." Refilling his glass of wine, Oso offered to pour more for his friend as well before sitting back in his chair and looking back to the map. He was wary to sail prematurely, afraid that leaving their shores undefended would mean that one or more of the kingdoms would be able to sneak around them somehow and make landfall. His greatest fear would be that Hatshepsut would have to face an attack alone, and as much as he wanted to believe that the men he'd left behind would protect his lover, there was an anxiety there he'd never felt before when he went off to war.
Perhaps it was because he had been quietly calculating in his mind, the little he knew of pregnancy was throwing him off, but he was almost certain that in the time he had been absent, and the time that she had been forced to marry Iahotep, there was a chance. A chance that the child that would inherit Egypt was actually his, and if that was the case he would do absolutely anything it took to ensure their inheritance. Whether he was ever able to marry its mother, he would mow down fields of Greeks on his own in order to keep it safe.
"I would know him, I believe. He is cousin to my dear enemy the prince of Colchis at any rate, they share some features. I'll be able to identify a body, or if they ever took off their helmets." It was obnoxious, the amount of armor the foreign country insisted their men carry. Did they not realize what a burden that would be in the desert, when the metal became heated by the sun? Far be it from him to make any sort of suggestion that might help his enemy, but he felt for the poor foot soldiers who would have to try to march against his own.
"We have to make sure he does not do it for fun. What point is this war if not to gain leverage over the Greeks."
"It would appear the Taengeans have given us theirs, though likely he's dead by now if not dying. And the Colchians are always led by their king. If we manage to take him and his heir alive that would be leverage. Or even if we had one of them."
Oso pondered a moment, trying to think back on the reports that came from the Greek kingdoms and wondering if he'd seen that one of them was now ruled by a woman. He hadn't thought the northern people to be so open minded as to be ruled by a woman in name, as much as he and his people held for Hatshepsut in spite of her age. It was in moments like this he realized he should pay more attention to Zoser and his uncle's Greek loving ways. After all, the man had lived in Athenia for ten years, he would know best if they had a queen instead of a king.
"I don't know. It would be a surprise if they did. I heard of unrest in that kingdom as well, perhaps that was the cause." Refilling his glass of wine, Oso offered to pour more for his friend as well before sitting back in his chair and looking back to the map. He was wary to sail prematurely, afraid that leaving their shores undefended would mean that one or more of the kingdoms would be able to sneak around them somehow and make landfall. His greatest fear would be that Hatshepsut would have to face an attack alone, and as much as he wanted to believe that the men he'd left behind would protect his lover, there was an anxiety there he'd never felt before when he went off to war.
Perhaps it was because he had been quietly calculating in his mind, the little he knew of pregnancy was throwing him off, but he was almost certain that in the time he had been absent, and the time that she had been forced to marry Iahotep, there was a chance. A chance that the child that would inherit Egypt was actually his, and if that was the case he would do absolutely anything it took to ensure their inheritance. Whether he was ever able to marry its mother, he would mow down fields of Greeks on his own in order to keep it safe.
"I would know him, I believe. He is cousin to my dear enemy the prince of Colchis at any rate, they share some features. I'll be able to identify a body, or if they ever took off their helmets." It was obnoxious, the amount of armor the foreign country insisted their men carry. Did they not realize what a burden that would be in the desert, when the metal became heated by the sun? Far be it from him to make any sort of suggestion that might help his enemy, but he felt for the poor foot soldiers who would have to try to march against his own.
"We have to make sure he does not do it for fun. What point is this war if not to gain leverage over the Greeks."
Narmer accepted more wine and pushed to his feet, pacing the small space afforded by the tent in a manner that was not uncommon for the man. He could hardly summon any sadness at the idea of a dead greek, king or no, but it was frustrating to think such a bargaining chip was lost to them. Whether for ransom or to torture secrets out of, it was foolish to have let such a treasure slip through their fingers and that it could have been avoided if Iahotep had just thought to confer with his generals was the real irritation.
But as Osorsen went on, it sounded as if at least there would be further opportunities granted to them anyway. “If the Taengean King is dead, then it should only be easier once we get to their lands. And if we have the chance to capture a Colchian one then let’s do that. Who knows, perhaps the Colchians will not feel so loyal to their neighbours when we have their king. Might be we can talk them out of standing in our way when it comes to sailing for Taengea.”
The H’Heikkadad man had not gained his rank through simply being a thug with good aim. His martial prowess had developed over the years, but more than than, Narmer had an agile mind that was useful. He did not turn to force over thought, and it was a trait he shared with Osorsen, a thing that had brought them closer over time. How he wished it was Osorsen who had claimed the throne instead of Iahotep - a man who’d been reckless at the best of times and now seemed to have had his sense smothered by the power of his position.
The Taengean King might well be a lost cause. If he washed up in the Greeks, they had in chains at the edge of the camp, so be it, but that there would be other opportunities to take valuable prisoners was the main thing. Still, it would be prudent to be sure. “Perhaps you should go look over those Greeks we have captured. Maybe he hides in plain sight, though I would've thought someone would have put such a wounded dog out of its misery.”
He didn’t need to say anything to Oso’s response about their own King. They both knew well enough that Iahotep would do what he wished.
“The point? For me, my friend? I could well do with it delivering me some gold and putting the name H’Heikaddad in people’s mouths for the right reasons instead of the wrong ones.” Narmer said, reaching up to run a finger over the edge of the Khopesh so carefully stored on the weapons rack and finding it pleasingly sharp. He rubbed the little spot of crimson that welled from the cut between thumb and forefinger and sighed. Such things would be bought in blood, but at least he could say that was an honest trade.
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Narmer accepted more wine and pushed to his feet, pacing the small space afforded by the tent in a manner that was not uncommon for the man. He could hardly summon any sadness at the idea of a dead greek, king or no, but it was frustrating to think such a bargaining chip was lost to them. Whether for ransom or to torture secrets out of, it was foolish to have let such a treasure slip through their fingers and that it could have been avoided if Iahotep had just thought to confer with his generals was the real irritation.
But as Osorsen went on, it sounded as if at least there would be further opportunities granted to them anyway. “If the Taengean King is dead, then it should only be easier once we get to their lands. And if we have the chance to capture a Colchian one then let’s do that. Who knows, perhaps the Colchians will not feel so loyal to their neighbours when we have their king. Might be we can talk them out of standing in our way when it comes to sailing for Taengea.”
The H’Heikkadad man had not gained his rank through simply being a thug with good aim. His martial prowess had developed over the years, but more than than, Narmer had an agile mind that was useful. He did not turn to force over thought, and it was a trait he shared with Osorsen, a thing that had brought them closer over time. How he wished it was Osorsen who had claimed the throne instead of Iahotep - a man who’d been reckless at the best of times and now seemed to have had his sense smothered by the power of his position.
The Taengean King might well be a lost cause. If he washed up in the Greeks, they had in chains at the edge of the camp, so be it, but that there would be other opportunities to take valuable prisoners was the main thing. Still, it would be prudent to be sure. “Perhaps you should go look over those Greeks we have captured. Maybe he hides in plain sight, though I would've thought someone would have put such a wounded dog out of its misery.”
He didn’t need to say anything to Oso’s response about their own King. They both knew well enough that Iahotep would do what he wished.
“The point? For me, my friend? I could well do with it delivering me some gold and putting the name H’Heikaddad in people’s mouths for the right reasons instead of the wrong ones.” Narmer said, reaching up to run a finger over the edge of the Khopesh so carefully stored on the weapons rack and finding it pleasingly sharp. He rubbed the little spot of crimson that welled from the cut between thumb and forefinger and sighed. Such things would be bought in blood, but at least he could say that was an honest trade.
Narmer accepted more wine and pushed to his feet, pacing the small space afforded by the tent in a manner that was not uncommon for the man. He could hardly summon any sadness at the idea of a dead greek, king or no, but it was frustrating to think such a bargaining chip was lost to them. Whether for ransom or to torture secrets out of, it was foolish to have let such a treasure slip through their fingers and that it could have been avoided if Iahotep had just thought to confer with his generals was the real irritation.
But as Osorsen went on, it sounded as if at least there would be further opportunities granted to them anyway. “If the Taengean King is dead, then it should only be easier once we get to their lands. And if we have the chance to capture a Colchian one then let’s do that. Who knows, perhaps the Colchians will not feel so loyal to their neighbours when we have their king. Might be we can talk them out of standing in our way when it comes to sailing for Taengea.”
The H’Heikkadad man had not gained his rank through simply being a thug with good aim. His martial prowess had developed over the years, but more than than, Narmer had an agile mind that was useful. He did not turn to force over thought, and it was a trait he shared with Osorsen, a thing that had brought them closer over time. How he wished it was Osorsen who had claimed the throne instead of Iahotep - a man who’d been reckless at the best of times and now seemed to have had his sense smothered by the power of his position.
The Taengean King might well be a lost cause. If he washed up in the Greeks, they had in chains at the edge of the camp, so be it, but that there would be other opportunities to take valuable prisoners was the main thing. Still, it would be prudent to be sure. “Perhaps you should go look over those Greeks we have captured. Maybe he hides in plain sight, though I would've thought someone would have put such a wounded dog out of its misery.”
He didn’t need to say anything to Oso’s response about their own King. They both knew well enough that Iahotep would do what he wished.
“The point? For me, my friend? I could well do with it delivering me some gold and putting the name H’Heikaddad in people’s mouths for the right reasons instead of the wrong ones.” Narmer said, reaching up to run a finger over the edge of the Khopesh so carefully stored on the weapons rack and finding it pleasingly sharp. He rubbed the little spot of crimson that welled from the cut between thumb and forefinger and sighed. Such things would be bought in blood, but at least he could say that was an honest trade.
"Ah but the Taengean king has a brother. One dead king is a loss of morale, but given how many that kingdom has been through in the year, I don't know if losing one more would break them as much as we might hope." It was annoying, how all of these kings seemed to have infinite brothers to keep taking the throne and building the morale of the people. It would have been much easier if they had less stability. As it was, they may yet be unstable and unsettled with the news of their king disappearing, enough to allow the Egyptians to secure an easy victory. But it was not guaranteed.
"The goal for me in this coming battle, is to take one Colchian captive for leverage, and kill the other. Again this kingdom is one of many brothers, there are three to follow and a son of one of them so it would not cause any crisis of succession." These Greeks and their propensity for multiple sons was annoying, but he supposed among them somewhere there must be a weakness. If one in particular were to be left with the throne the others wouldn't follow, or they would surrender to have one returned. They would have to see what happened on the next field of battle.
Narmer's remarks about his family fortune had Osorsen leveling him with a look, a heavy sigh as he set his wine aside. It was easy to forget that not everyone had what he did. His grandfather had been shrewd at saving and spending, with a keen ability to increase the family wealth and prestige. The horses the elder Osorsen H'Moghadam bred were some of the fastest, full of endurance in spite of their small size. It made them coveted breeding and battle stock. He'd been blessed by the gods with what he had been given, and though he doubted his friend would accept, he would have done what he could to alleviate some of the stress.
"Narmer, you know if you have a need you can come to me." His voice was even, expression without sympathy to offend the other man. Looking down at the signet ring on his finger he tipped his head aside as a thought crossed his mind, and he looked back up to his friend. "The twins, they are of an age to be wed are they not? It would relieve a burden to have two less to feed and clothe. Will you allow me to furnish their dowries so that they might find suitable matches and ease your burden?"
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"Ah but the Taengean king has a brother. One dead king is a loss of morale, but given how many that kingdom has been through in the year, I don't know if losing one more would break them as much as we might hope." It was annoying, how all of these kings seemed to have infinite brothers to keep taking the throne and building the morale of the people. It would have been much easier if they had less stability. As it was, they may yet be unstable and unsettled with the news of their king disappearing, enough to allow the Egyptians to secure an easy victory. But it was not guaranteed.
"The goal for me in this coming battle, is to take one Colchian captive for leverage, and kill the other. Again this kingdom is one of many brothers, there are three to follow and a son of one of them so it would not cause any crisis of succession." These Greeks and their propensity for multiple sons was annoying, but he supposed among them somewhere there must be a weakness. If one in particular were to be left with the throne the others wouldn't follow, or they would surrender to have one returned. They would have to see what happened on the next field of battle.
Narmer's remarks about his family fortune had Osorsen leveling him with a look, a heavy sigh as he set his wine aside. It was easy to forget that not everyone had what he did. His grandfather had been shrewd at saving and spending, with a keen ability to increase the family wealth and prestige. The horses the elder Osorsen H'Moghadam bred were some of the fastest, full of endurance in spite of their small size. It made them coveted breeding and battle stock. He'd been blessed by the gods with what he had been given, and though he doubted his friend would accept, he would have done what he could to alleviate some of the stress.
"Narmer, you know if you have a need you can come to me." His voice was even, expression without sympathy to offend the other man. Looking down at the signet ring on his finger he tipped his head aside as a thought crossed his mind, and he looked back up to his friend. "The twins, they are of an age to be wed are they not? It would relieve a burden to have two less to feed and clothe. Will you allow me to furnish their dowries so that they might find suitable matches and ease your burden?"
"Ah but the Taengean king has a brother. One dead king is a loss of morale, but given how many that kingdom has been through in the year, I don't know if losing one more would break them as much as we might hope." It was annoying, how all of these kings seemed to have infinite brothers to keep taking the throne and building the morale of the people. It would have been much easier if they had less stability. As it was, they may yet be unstable and unsettled with the news of their king disappearing, enough to allow the Egyptians to secure an easy victory. But it was not guaranteed.
"The goal for me in this coming battle, is to take one Colchian captive for leverage, and kill the other. Again this kingdom is one of many brothers, there are three to follow and a son of one of them so it would not cause any crisis of succession." These Greeks and their propensity for multiple sons was annoying, but he supposed among them somewhere there must be a weakness. If one in particular were to be left with the throne the others wouldn't follow, or they would surrender to have one returned. They would have to see what happened on the next field of battle.
Narmer's remarks about his family fortune had Osorsen leveling him with a look, a heavy sigh as he set his wine aside. It was easy to forget that not everyone had what he did. His grandfather had been shrewd at saving and spending, with a keen ability to increase the family wealth and prestige. The horses the elder Osorsen H'Moghadam bred were some of the fastest, full of endurance in spite of their small size. It made them coveted breeding and battle stock. He'd been blessed by the gods with what he had been given, and though he doubted his friend would accept, he would have done what he could to alleviate some of the stress.
"Narmer, you know if you have a need you can come to me." His voice was even, expression without sympathy to offend the other man. Looking down at the signet ring on his finger he tipped his head aside as a thought crossed his mind, and he looked back up to his friend. "The twins, they are of an age to be wed are they not? It would relieve a burden to have two less to feed and clothe. Will you allow me to furnish their dowries so that they might find suitable matches and ease your burden?"
Narmer glanced back at Osorsen and gave a nod. The H’Moghadam’s knowledge of their Greek neighbours far surpassed his own. He couldn’t keep track of brothers and cousins and all their ever-changing kings. Thye all looked alike and even more so under the ridiculous armor they chose to wear. Ah well. Even if there was a ready-replacement, the defeat of a King was always good to lessen the morale of a people. And if they had to take down two in their quest to take Taengea? More the merrier.
Colchian’s too by the sounds of it were lining up to meet the tip of a spear, and Narmer knew that Osorsen had a gripe with at least one of the princes. “If you deliver our Pharoah such a gift after gleaning the knowledge they have to share then it would see him happy” he remarked with a shrug as he wandered the small space, sipping at his wine and savouring what he was sure was an expensive batch.
Of course Narmer’s own motivations differed from his friends. H’Moghadam was an old house, a powerful one, and Osorsen the younger had little to prove. It was not the same for Narmer’s own line. He’d noticed too late the flimsy hold Nameeah had on the house finances, and whilst the mysterious benefactor had seemed like a blessing at first, Narmer now wondered what hidden price came with the gold left at his door. Whatever riches he could reap from this war would be a step in the right direction, and with any luck a marriage would sort out the rest.
Osorsen’s words interrupted his thoughts and the slighter man looked sideways at his friend, but there was no pitying cast to his words, indeed the General was not even looking at him and Narmer rocked back on his heels and rubbed at his jaw, his discomfort expressed through physicality rather than any shift in his expression.
‘The twins, they are of an age to be wed are they not? It would relieve a burden to have two less to feed and clothe. Will you allow me to furnish their dowries so that they might find suitable matches and ease your burden?’
It was a generous offer, an unlooked-for one, and now Narmer folded his arms across his chest, raised a finger as if he might object, upon principle, but then how could he? Safiya and Sameera deserved good matches, it was no fault of theirs that the house coiffers had run so low. To marry them off poorly because of his own failures would be the greatest disrespect to his brother’s memory.
“That...nothing could be a kinder thing to offer, sadiq.” He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed his head to Osorsen. “They are good girls, they deserve marriages fitting of their blood” His pride stung, but Narmer would bear it for his nieces, and he knew Osorsen well enough to believe the man would not hold it over his head. “And when the day comes that I can repay you, you know I will do so tenfold”
And he hoped he did not need to say it - he would not say it aloud because it was not safe to- but Narmer would follow Osorsen if he chose to make his move to claim the throne that should have been his anyway, despite the risks it entailed.
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Narmer glanced back at Osorsen and gave a nod. The H’Moghadam’s knowledge of their Greek neighbours far surpassed his own. He couldn’t keep track of brothers and cousins and all their ever-changing kings. Thye all looked alike and even more so under the ridiculous armor they chose to wear. Ah well. Even if there was a ready-replacement, the defeat of a King was always good to lessen the morale of a people. And if they had to take down two in their quest to take Taengea? More the merrier.
Colchian’s too by the sounds of it were lining up to meet the tip of a spear, and Narmer knew that Osorsen had a gripe with at least one of the princes. “If you deliver our Pharoah such a gift after gleaning the knowledge they have to share then it would see him happy” he remarked with a shrug as he wandered the small space, sipping at his wine and savouring what he was sure was an expensive batch.
Of course Narmer’s own motivations differed from his friends. H’Moghadam was an old house, a powerful one, and Osorsen the younger had little to prove. It was not the same for Narmer’s own line. He’d noticed too late the flimsy hold Nameeah had on the house finances, and whilst the mysterious benefactor had seemed like a blessing at first, Narmer now wondered what hidden price came with the gold left at his door. Whatever riches he could reap from this war would be a step in the right direction, and with any luck a marriage would sort out the rest.
Osorsen’s words interrupted his thoughts and the slighter man looked sideways at his friend, but there was no pitying cast to his words, indeed the General was not even looking at him and Narmer rocked back on his heels and rubbed at his jaw, his discomfort expressed through physicality rather than any shift in his expression.
‘The twins, they are of an age to be wed are they not? It would relieve a burden to have two less to feed and clothe. Will you allow me to furnish their dowries so that they might find suitable matches and ease your burden?’
It was a generous offer, an unlooked-for one, and now Narmer folded his arms across his chest, raised a finger as if he might object, upon principle, but then how could he? Safiya and Sameera deserved good matches, it was no fault of theirs that the house coiffers had run so low. To marry them off poorly because of his own failures would be the greatest disrespect to his brother’s memory.
“That...nothing could be a kinder thing to offer, sadiq.” He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed his head to Osorsen. “They are good girls, they deserve marriages fitting of their blood” His pride stung, but Narmer would bear it for his nieces, and he knew Osorsen well enough to believe the man would not hold it over his head. “And when the day comes that I can repay you, you know I will do so tenfold”
And he hoped he did not need to say it - he would not say it aloud because it was not safe to- but Narmer would follow Osorsen if he chose to make his move to claim the throne that should have been his anyway, despite the risks it entailed.
Narmer glanced back at Osorsen and gave a nod. The H’Moghadam’s knowledge of their Greek neighbours far surpassed his own. He couldn’t keep track of brothers and cousins and all their ever-changing kings. Thye all looked alike and even more so under the ridiculous armor they chose to wear. Ah well. Even if there was a ready-replacement, the defeat of a King was always good to lessen the morale of a people. And if they had to take down two in their quest to take Taengea? More the merrier.
Colchian’s too by the sounds of it were lining up to meet the tip of a spear, and Narmer knew that Osorsen had a gripe with at least one of the princes. “If you deliver our Pharoah such a gift after gleaning the knowledge they have to share then it would see him happy” he remarked with a shrug as he wandered the small space, sipping at his wine and savouring what he was sure was an expensive batch.
Of course Narmer’s own motivations differed from his friends. H’Moghadam was an old house, a powerful one, and Osorsen the younger had little to prove. It was not the same for Narmer’s own line. He’d noticed too late the flimsy hold Nameeah had on the house finances, and whilst the mysterious benefactor had seemed like a blessing at first, Narmer now wondered what hidden price came with the gold left at his door. Whatever riches he could reap from this war would be a step in the right direction, and with any luck a marriage would sort out the rest.
Osorsen’s words interrupted his thoughts and the slighter man looked sideways at his friend, but there was no pitying cast to his words, indeed the General was not even looking at him and Narmer rocked back on his heels and rubbed at his jaw, his discomfort expressed through physicality rather than any shift in his expression.
‘The twins, they are of an age to be wed are they not? It would relieve a burden to have two less to feed and clothe. Will you allow me to furnish their dowries so that they might find suitable matches and ease your burden?’
It was a generous offer, an unlooked-for one, and now Narmer folded his arms across his chest, raised a finger as if he might object, upon principle, but then how could he? Safiya and Sameera deserved good matches, it was no fault of theirs that the house coiffers had run so low. To marry them off poorly because of his own failures would be the greatest disrespect to his brother’s memory.
“That...nothing could be a kinder thing to offer, sadiq.” He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed his head to Osorsen. “They are good girls, they deserve marriages fitting of their blood” His pride stung, but Narmer would bear it for his nieces, and he knew Osorsen well enough to believe the man would not hold it over his head. “And when the day comes that I can repay you, you know I will do so tenfold”
And he hoped he did not need to say it - he would not say it aloud because it was not safe to- but Narmer would follow Osorsen if he chose to make his move to claim the throne that should have been his anyway, despite the risks it entailed.
