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Sil wasn’t quite sure why he’d been given the responsibility for seeing the camp set up. There were half a dozen men more qualified than him here who could do it, but instead King Tython had passed the job on to him and he’d been running around like an idiot ever since. People kept asking him questions and looking at him like they expected him to know the answer and he just wanted to tell them he didn’t have a fucking clue, and just to go...do what they do, because that would be more likely to be right than anything he might say.
And it was hot. He’d always rolled his eyes at Tim’s tales about Egypt because it got hot at home, and had been warmer still when he was in Taengea. But this heat was different..dry like stepping into an oven and he was sweating already, even here next to the ocean.
He’d been there to hear the account from the Taengean soldier, and if that wasn’t enough to confirm his notion that this wasn’t where he wanted to be then he didn’t know what was. The look on those soldiers’ faces, haggard and drawn. They’d lost their king already and nearly all their man. He had to think that Colchians would fare better. Had to hold on to something.
Now all the men were off the ships there was a bustle of activity that stopped him being able to think too much, and he was glad of that after the monotony of the voyage. Or he would have been if people stopped asking him shit.
“Over there somewhere” he waved vaguely in response to the question of where the physicians’ tent should be pitched until he watched the man go hurrying off and then sighed. “No, wait. It should go on the outer edge. Near to the water.” Some of the studying he’d had do had apparently sunk in despite his best efforts to block it from his memories. And he realised that he wanted to get this right - needed to really because there wasn’t a fuck lot else going for him otherwise.
As far as he knew, Vangelis was the only one who knew of his change in circumstance, and he hadn’t seemed to hold it against Sil. But maybe that was because he’d been treating him like a servant anyway. Go figure. But without a name to hold on to, Silanos didn’t know what he was going to do if and when the Crown Prince decided he’d paid his dues. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he’d ever have: anxiety about when he was released from his enforced servitude.
He was spinning in a circle, eyeing the progress being made wondering if he’d fucked anything up when his shoulder bumped someone, and Sil cast a glance sideways before he scowled a little. All he needed. Miserable ruiner of fantasies archer. He looked over Phaedra’s shoulder, relieved she didnt have harpy number two with her today.
“Oh it’s you.” he observed with about as much enthusiasm as a very unenthusiastic thing.
“ What a...pleasant surprise, Lieutenant” His demeanour screamed the exact opposite, the woman not having endeared herself much to the young man when they’d met back in Midas.
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Sil wasn’t quite sure why he’d been given the responsibility for seeing the camp set up. There were half a dozen men more qualified than him here who could do it, but instead King Tython had passed the job on to him and he’d been running around like an idiot ever since. People kept asking him questions and looking at him like they expected him to know the answer and he just wanted to tell them he didn’t have a fucking clue, and just to go...do what they do, because that would be more likely to be right than anything he might say.
And it was hot. He’d always rolled his eyes at Tim’s tales about Egypt because it got hot at home, and had been warmer still when he was in Taengea. But this heat was different..dry like stepping into an oven and he was sweating already, even here next to the ocean.
He’d been there to hear the account from the Taengean soldier, and if that wasn’t enough to confirm his notion that this wasn’t where he wanted to be then he didn’t know what was. The look on those soldiers’ faces, haggard and drawn. They’d lost their king already and nearly all their man. He had to think that Colchians would fare better. Had to hold on to something.
Now all the men were off the ships there was a bustle of activity that stopped him being able to think too much, and he was glad of that after the monotony of the voyage. Or he would have been if people stopped asking him shit.
“Over there somewhere” he waved vaguely in response to the question of where the physicians’ tent should be pitched until he watched the man go hurrying off and then sighed. “No, wait. It should go on the outer edge. Near to the water.” Some of the studying he’d had do had apparently sunk in despite his best efforts to block it from his memories. And he realised that he wanted to get this right - needed to really because there wasn’t a fuck lot else going for him otherwise.
As far as he knew, Vangelis was the only one who knew of his change in circumstance, and he hadn’t seemed to hold it against Sil. But maybe that was because he’d been treating him like a servant anyway. Go figure. But without a name to hold on to, Silanos didn’t know what he was going to do if and when the Crown Prince decided he’d paid his dues. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he’d ever have: anxiety about when he was released from his enforced servitude.
He was spinning in a circle, eyeing the progress being made wondering if he’d fucked anything up when his shoulder bumped someone, and Sil cast a glance sideways before he scowled a little. All he needed. Miserable ruiner of fantasies archer. He looked over Phaedra’s shoulder, relieved she didnt have harpy number two with her today.
“Oh it’s you.” he observed with about as much enthusiasm as a very unenthusiastic thing.
“ What a...pleasant surprise, Lieutenant” His demeanour screamed the exact opposite, the woman not having endeared herself much to the young man when they’d met back in Midas.
Sil wasn’t quite sure why he’d been given the responsibility for seeing the camp set up. There were half a dozen men more qualified than him here who could do it, but instead King Tython had passed the job on to him and he’d been running around like an idiot ever since. People kept asking him questions and looking at him like they expected him to know the answer and he just wanted to tell them he didn’t have a fucking clue, and just to go...do what they do, because that would be more likely to be right than anything he might say.
And it was hot. He’d always rolled his eyes at Tim’s tales about Egypt because it got hot at home, and had been warmer still when he was in Taengea. But this heat was different..dry like stepping into an oven and he was sweating already, even here next to the ocean.
He’d been there to hear the account from the Taengean soldier, and if that wasn’t enough to confirm his notion that this wasn’t where he wanted to be then he didn’t know what was. The look on those soldiers’ faces, haggard and drawn. They’d lost their king already and nearly all their man. He had to think that Colchians would fare better. Had to hold on to something.
Now all the men were off the ships there was a bustle of activity that stopped him being able to think too much, and he was glad of that after the monotony of the voyage. Or he would have been if people stopped asking him shit.
“Over there somewhere” he waved vaguely in response to the question of where the physicians’ tent should be pitched until he watched the man go hurrying off and then sighed. “No, wait. It should go on the outer edge. Near to the water.” Some of the studying he’d had do had apparently sunk in despite his best efforts to block it from his memories. And he realised that he wanted to get this right - needed to really because there wasn’t a fuck lot else going for him otherwise.
As far as he knew, Vangelis was the only one who knew of his change in circumstance, and he hadn’t seemed to hold it against Sil. But maybe that was because he’d been treating him like a servant anyway. Go figure. But without a name to hold on to, Silanos didn’t know what he was going to do if and when the Crown Prince decided he’d paid his dues. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he’d ever have: anxiety about when he was released from his enforced servitude.
He was spinning in a circle, eyeing the progress being made wondering if he’d fucked anything up when his shoulder bumped someone, and Sil cast a glance sideways before he scowled a little. All he needed. Miserable ruiner of fantasies archer. He looked over Phaedra’s shoulder, relieved she didnt have harpy number two with her today.
“Oh it’s you.” he observed with about as much enthusiasm as a very unenthusiastic thing.
“ What a...pleasant surprise, Lieutenant” His demeanour screamed the exact opposite, the woman not having endeared herself much to the young man when they’d met back in Midas.
There was always plenty to prepare for when setting up camp in a foreign land. Their supplies were limited enough by what they had brought on the boats, and the fact that in this gods-forsaken place filled with sand there was little they could forage to add to their supply. This meant that everything had to be rationed carefully in order to keep everyone fed, although the protein at least could be supplemented with fish from the sea. The horses at least could forage the scrubby grass that grew around the area.
None of that was anything Phaedra herself really needed to worry about on her own. No matter how good or bad she might have been at such arrangement of the camp, being a woman had left her stuck firmly at the rank of lieutenant. This meant she had nothing that she needed to worry about other than making sure that her own soldiers had set up their tents in an orderly and correct manner so that they would protect them from the harsh sun, but still not blow away should the weather turn stormy.
She knew she would never be someone who would be given any responsibility for an entire camp; the men wouldn’t stand to have a woman in charge of that much of the camp. She had at least expected that they would have picked someone competent and experienced and not someone who knew absolutely nothing of the job he had been assigned. She was absolutely livid that someone like Lord Silanos would be assigned this job over herself.
It was fortunate that Phaedra’s duties had not caused her to cross paths with the man, for she had many things that she wanted to say about the absolute chaos that had seemed to ensue with this man in charge of the camp. That is, until this moment. She had been attempting to secure another length of rope for one of her soldiers who had gotten a frayed rope as part of her tent kit, when she collided with just the man at which her ire had been directed.
No apology, no nothing. At least he’d seemed to learn the correct way to address her since the last time they had met. That was not enough to quiet her irritation with the man. “Yes, quite a surprise. I assumed you would be over supervising the construction of the firepits instead of standing useless in the middle of my path.” Phaedra had no patience for this man today. Being in Egypt alone pushed her temper to its breaking point, and this man was standing on her last nerve.
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There was always plenty to prepare for when setting up camp in a foreign land. Their supplies were limited enough by what they had brought on the boats, and the fact that in this gods-forsaken place filled with sand there was little they could forage to add to their supply. This meant that everything had to be rationed carefully in order to keep everyone fed, although the protein at least could be supplemented with fish from the sea. The horses at least could forage the scrubby grass that grew around the area.
None of that was anything Phaedra herself really needed to worry about on her own. No matter how good or bad she might have been at such arrangement of the camp, being a woman had left her stuck firmly at the rank of lieutenant. This meant she had nothing that she needed to worry about other than making sure that her own soldiers had set up their tents in an orderly and correct manner so that they would protect them from the harsh sun, but still not blow away should the weather turn stormy.
She knew she would never be someone who would be given any responsibility for an entire camp; the men wouldn’t stand to have a woman in charge of that much of the camp. She had at least expected that they would have picked someone competent and experienced and not someone who knew absolutely nothing of the job he had been assigned. She was absolutely livid that someone like Lord Silanos would be assigned this job over herself.
It was fortunate that Phaedra’s duties had not caused her to cross paths with the man, for she had many things that she wanted to say about the absolute chaos that had seemed to ensue with this man in charge of the camp. That is, until this moment. She had been attempting to secure another length of rope for one of her soldiers who had gotten a frayed rope as part of her tent kit, when she collided with just the man at which her ire had been directed.
No apology, no nothing. At least he’d seemed to learn the correct way to address her since the last time they had met. That was not enough to quiet her irritation with the man. “Yes, quite a surprise. I assumed you would be over supervising the construction of the firepits instead of standing useless in the middle of my path.” Phaedra had no patience for this man today. Being in Egypt alone pushed her temper to its breaking point, and this man was standing on her last nerve.
There was always plenty to prepare for when setting up camp in a foreign land. Their supplies were limited enough by what they had brought on the boats, and the fact that in this gods-forsaken place filled with sand there was little they could forage to add to their supply. This meant that everything had to be rationed carefully in order to keep everyone fed, although the protein at least could be supplemented with fish from the sea. The horses at least could forage the scrubby grass that grew around the area.
None of that was anything Phaedra herself really needed to worry about on her own. No matter how good or bad she might have been at such arrangement of the camp, being a woman had left her stuck firmly at the rank of lieutenant. This meant she had nothing that she needed to worry about other than making sure that her own soldiers had set up their tents in an orderly and correct manner so that they would protect them from the harsh sun, but still not blow away should the weather turn stormy.
She knew she would never be someone who would be given any responsibility for an entire camp; the men wouldn’t stand to have a woman in charge of that much of the camp. She had at least expected that they would have picked someone competent and experienced and not someone who knew absolutely nothing of the job he had been assigned. She was absolutely livid that someone like Lord Silanos would be assigned this job over herself.
It was fortunate that Phaedra’s duties had not caused her to cross paths with the man, for she had many things that she wanted to say about the absolute chaos that had seemed to ensue with this man in charge of the camp. That is, until this moment. She had been attempting to secure another length of rope for one of her soldiers who had gotten a frayed rope as part of her tent kit, when she collided with just the man at which her ire had been directed.
No apology, no nothing. At least he’d seemed to learn the correct way to address her since the last time they had met. That was not enough to quiet her irritation with the man. “Yes, quite a surprise. I assumed you would be over supervising the construction of the firepits instead of standing useless in the middle of my path.” Phaedra had no patience for this man today. Being in Egypt alone pushed her temper to its breaking point, and this man was standing on her last nerve.
It was true that the two had perhaps not had the most auspicious of introductions back in Midas. Silanos wasnt usually one to bear a grudge, but it had been particularly jarring being bossed around by a woman, especially one who had shown herself to be apparently impervious to his charms. Not that he still entertained that idea. Even if she looked half decent, she’d killed any appreciation of that fact by being a bitch.
Silanos was pretty sure it was the Lieutenant that had walked into him, so he wasn’t about to offer an apology, but he had at least made some effort to keep his words civil even if she was one of his less than favourite people. Which was more than he could say for her. The young man’s eyes narrowed and he felt his temper flare. Who did she think she was?. In that moment, Silanos’ own precarious situation seemed not to register in his thoughts, he was aggravated by the woman’s sour face and attitude.
“Maybe you’re in my way” he snapped back without hesitation, looking her up and down. And though he knew -somewhere, distantly - that it wasn’t the wisest thing to do, her dismissiveness irked him inexplicably. He hadn’t even fucking said more than a couple of words to her and he was useless was he? Never mind that somebody obviously didnt think so and had saddled him with this job in the first place.
Fucking firepits? he knew damn well that wasn't what he'd been told to do, because the expression on Damocles face had been too precious to forget, but it wasn't hard to find the insult intended in the blonde woman's words.
Maybe it was nerves about what lay ahead, or the frustration of being cooped up on a boat for weeks, or being forced to mind his manners or the fact that his whole life seemed to be degenerating into a steaming pile of shit, but Silanos found himself with zero tolerance for miserable faced harpies who thought themselves so much better than him. Never one who was particularly known for knowing when to hold his tongue, the ability seemed to desert him altogether then.
“Don’t you have something you were assigned to do?” he asked, using the advantage of his height to glare down at her. “Shouldn’t you be off doing that instead of standing here berating me for fuck knows what?’
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It was true that the two had perhaps not had the most auspicious of introductions back in Midas. Silanos wasnt usually one to bear a grudge, but it had been particularly jarring being bossed around by a woman, especially one who had shown herself to be apparently impervious to his charms. Not that he still entertained that idea. Even if she looked half decent, she’d killed any appreciation of that fact by being a bitch.
Silanos was pretty sure it was the Lieutenant that had walked into him, so he wasn’t about to offer an apology, but he had at least made some effort to keep his words civil even if she was one of his less than favourite people. Which was more than he could say for her. The young man’s eyes narrowed and he felt his temper flare. Who did she think she was?. In that moment, Silanos’ own precarious situation seemed not to register in his thoughts, he was aggravated by the woman’s sour face and attitude.
“Maybe you’re in my way” he snapped back without hesitation, looking her up and down. And though he knew -somewhere, distantly - that it wasn’t the wisest thing to do, her dismissiveness irked him inexplicably. He hadn’t even fucking said more than a couple of words to her and he was useless was he? Never mind that somebody obviously didnt think so and had saddled him with this job in the first place.
Fucking firepits? he knew damn well that wasn't what he'd been told to do, because the expression on Damocles face had been too precious to forget, but it wasn't hard to find the insult intended in the blonde woman's words.
Maybe it was nerves about what lay ahead, or the frustration of being cooped up on a boat for weeks, or being forced to mind his manners or the fact that his whole life seemed to be degenerating into a steaming pile of shit, but Silanos found himself with zero tolerance for miserable faced harpies who thought themselves so much better than him. Never one who was particularly known for knowing when to hold his tongue, the ability seemed to desert him altogether then.
“Don’t you have something you were assigned to do?” he asked, using the advantage of his height to glare down at her. “Shouldn’t you be off doing that instead of standing here berating me for fuck knows what?’
It was true that the two had perhaps not had the most auspicious of introductions back in Midas. Silanos wasnt usually one to bear a grudge, but it had been particularly jarring being bossed around by a woman, especially one who had shown herself to be apparently impervious to his charms. Not that he still entertained that idea. Even if she looked half decent, she’d killed any appreciation of that fact by being a bitch.
Silanos was pretty sure it was the Lieutenant that had walked into him, so he wasn’t about to offer an apology, but he had at least made some effort to keep his words civil even if she was one of his less than favourite people. Which was more than he could say for her. The young man’s eyes narrowed and he felt his temper flare. Who did she think she was?. In that moment, Silanos’ own precarious situation seemed not to register in his thoughts, he was aggravated by the woman’s sour face and attitude.
“Maybe you’re in my way” he snapped back without hesitation, looking her up and down. And though he knew -somewhere, distantly - that it wasn’t the wisest thing to do, her dismissiveness irked him inexplicably. He hadn’t even fucking said more than a couple of words to her and he was useless was he? Never mind that somebody obviously didnt think so and had saddled him with this job in the first place.
Fucking firepits? he knew damn well that wasn't what he'd been told to do, because the expression on Damocles face had been too precious to forget, but it wasn't hard to find the insult intended in the blonde woman's words.
Maybe it was nerves about what lay ahead, or the frustration of being cooped up on a boat for weeks, or being forced to mind his manners or the fact that his whole life seemed to be degenerating into a steaming pile of shit, but Silanos found himself with zero tolerance for miserable faced harpies who thought themselves so much better than him. Never one who was particularly known for knowing when to hold his tongue, the ability seemed to desert him altogether then.
“Don’t you have something you were assigned to do?” he asked, using the advantage of his height to glare down at her. “Shouldn’t you be off doing that instead of standing here berating me for fuck knows what?’
Phaedra had not wanted this encounter with Silanos to last as short a time as possible. Colliding him had been unfortunate, and his attitude never improved things. At first, he had appeared to at least learn how to not be insubordinate, but clearly, he hadn’t learned. He was determined to be confrontational. Well, two could play at that game, she wasn’t about to back down.
“Oh I’m sorry,” she replied sarcastically. “I’ll just let you get back to standing around. I’m sure your time is very important.” Phaedra rolled her eyes. She was not in the mood to take attitude from this man today. There was lots of work to be done before they met the Egyptians in battle.
“Yes, in fact, I do, and you’re preventing me from doing it. Not that it’s any concern of yours what my job is.” Her assigned task was to look after her archers and make sure they were ready for tomorrow. A task that had neither effect on nor influence from Silanos. “However, my business is none of yours. In case you’re forgetting, I outrank you.” With that, Phaedra pushed past the man fully intending to go find the rope she had gone to retrieve. That should have been that, but Phaedra couldn’t resist getting in a parting shot, her rage still simmering hot towards this man.
Phaedra turned and unleashed her anger at Sil and everything he stood for. “You might be some big deal lord back in Colchis, but we’re in Egypt now. When the Egyptians start swinging all the titles in the world aren’t going to protect you. All that’ll matter is how well you can hold your own against a khopesh.” As far as Phaedra was concerned Silanos was an untrained liability. Giving him responsibility above his station just because of his nobility was completely reckless and only gave the Egyptians one more possible weakness they could exploit.
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Phaedra had not wanted this encounter with Silanos to last as short a time as possible. Colliding him had been unfortunate, and his attitude never improved things. At first, he had appeared to at least learn how to not be insubordinate, but clearly, he hadn’t learned. He was determined to be confrontational. Well, two could play at that game, she wasn’t about to back down.
“Oh I’m sorry,” she replied sarcastically. “I’ll just let you get back to standing around. I’m sure your time is very important.” Phaedra rolled her eyes. She was not in the mood to take attitude from this man today. There was lots of work to be done before they met the Egyptians in battle.
“Yes, in fact, I do, and you’re preventing me from doing it. Not that it’s any concern of yours what my job is.” Her assigned task was to look after her archers and make sure they were ready for tomorrow. A task that had neither effect on nor influence from Silanos. “However, my business is none of yours. In case you’re forgetting, I outrank you.” With that, Phaedra pushed past the man fully intending to go find the rope she had gone to retrieve. That should have been that, but Phaedra couldn’t resist getting in a parting shot, her rage still simmering hot towards this man.
Phaedra turned and unleashed her anger at Sil and everything he stood for. “You might be some big deal lord back in Colchis, but we’re in Egypt now. When the Egyptians start swinging all the titles in the world aren’t going to protect you. All that’ll matter is how well you can hold your own against a khopesh.” As far as Phaedra was concerned Silanos was an untrained liability. Giving him responsibility above his station just because of his nobility was completely reckless and only gave the Egyptians one more possible weakness they could exploit.
Phaedra had not wanted this encounter with Silanos to last as short a time as possible. Colliding him had been unfortunate, and his attitude never improved things. At first, he had appeared to at least learn how to not be insubordinate, but clearly, he hadn’t learned. He was determined to be confrontational. Well, two could play at that game, she wasn’t about to back down.
“Oh I’m sorry,” she replied sarcastically. “I’ll just let you get back to standing around. I’m sure your time is very important.” Phaedra rolled her eyes. She was not in the mood to take attitude from this man today. There was lots of work to be done before they met the Egyptians in battle.
“Yes, in fact, I do, and you’re preventing me from doing it. Not that it’s any concern of yours what my job is.” Her assigned task was to look after her archers and make sure they were ready for tomorrow. A task that had neither effect on nor influence from Silanos. “However, my business is none of yours. In case you’re forgetting, I outrank you.” With that, Phaedra pushed past the man fully intending to go find the rope she had gone to retrieve. That should have been that, but Phaedra couldn’t resist getting in a parting shot, her rage still simmering hot towards this man.
Phaedra turned and unleashed her anger at Sil and everything he stood for. “You might be some big deal lord back in Colchis, but we’re in Egypt now. When the Egyptians start swinging all the titles in the world aren’t going to protect you. All that’ll matter is how well you can hold your own against a khopesh.” As far as Phaedra was concerned Silanos was an untrained liability. Giving him responsibility above his station just because of his nobility was completely reckless and only gave the Egyptians one more possible weakness they could exploit.
Her sarcasm landed sourly with the younger man, and he smiled tightly, the expression not reaching his eyes. Usually, he might have laughed off her disdain because why did he care what some jumped-up spinster had to say about him but for some gods known reason her words seemed to land sharply, and Silanos felt his fingers curl his hands into fists by his sides, nails digging into his palms.
She was right, he didn’t give a flying fuck what her job was, but it didn’t mean he was just going to let her run him down like that. She wasn’t his fucking boss, that was for sure. When she pushed into him on her way past, he made his muscles rigid, didn’t roll with her passing but stood firm, so her shoulder knocked his sharply.
That could have been it, that and dirty look sent after her and a few muttered prayers that shed fall into a latrine on her way wherever she was going. But for whatever reason, the bitch just couldn’t seem to let it go, and when she fired her last little diatribe at him, Sil decided that neither could he.
‘You might be some big deal lord back in Colchis, but we’re in Egypt now. When the Egyptians start swinging all the titles in the world aren’t going to protect you. All that’ll matter is how well you can hold your own against a khopesh.’
He might be some big deal lord back in Colchis… Sil ground his teeth together so hard he thought they might crack, blood pounding furiously in his ears, and he’d taken half a step toward the woman without realising he meant to. But then, close enough that he didn’t have to raise his voice over a seething hiss, he leant into her space.
“Why don’t you shut up about what you know nothing about” he spat out, eyes blazing. Screw this hierarchy bullshit, screw Egypt and this shambolic exercise he was being forced to endure. He’d never wanted to come in the first place and now? Now it had cost him everything anyway. And here was this bitter harpy thinking she knew him? Knew shit about his life?He looked her up and down slowly.
“How old are you anyway, Lieutenant? Took a while to suck enough dick to get you that title didn’t it? Well you can go fuck yourself with a khopesh for all I care.”
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Her sarcasm landed sourly with the younger man, and he smiled tightly, the expression not reaching his eyes. Usually, he might have laughed off her disdain because why did he care what some jumped-up spinster had to say about him but for some gods known reason her words seemed to land sharply, and Silanos felt his fingers curl his hands into fists by his sides, nails digging into his palms.
She was right, he didn’t give a flying fuck what her job was, but it didn’t mean he was just going to let her run him down like that. She wasn’t his fucking boss, that was for sure. When she pushed into him on her way past, he made his muscles rigid, didn’t roll with her passing but stood firm, so her shoulder knocked his sharply.
That could have been it, that and dirty look sent after her and a few muttered prayers that shed fall into a latrine on her way wherever she was going. But for whatever reason, the bitch just couldn’t seem to let it go, and when she fired her last little diatribe at him, Sil decided that neither could he.
‘You might be some big deal lord back in Colchis, but we’re in Egypt now. When the Egyptians start swinging all the titles in the world aren’t going to protect you. All that’ll matter is how well you can hold your own against a khopesh.’
He might be some big deal lord back in Colchis… Sil ground his teeth together so hard he thought they might crack, blood pounding furiously in his ears, and he’d taken half a step toward the woman without realising he meant to. But then, close enough that he didn’t have to raise his voice over a seething hiss, he leant into her space.
“Why don’t you shut up about what you know nothing about” he spat out, eyes blazing. Screw this hierarchy bullshit, screw Egypt and this shambolic exercise he was being forced to endure. He’d never wanted to come in the first place and now? Now it had cost him everything anyway. And here was this bitter harpy thinking she knew him? Knew shit about his life?He looked her up and down slowly.
“How old are you anyway, Lieutenant? Took a while to suck enough dick to get you that title didn’t it? Well you can go fuck yourself with a khopesh for all I care.”
Her sarcasm landed sourly with the younger man, and he smiled tightly, the expression not reaching his eyes. Usually, he might have laughed off her disdain because why did he care what some jumped-up spinster had to say about him but for some gods known reason her words seemed to land sharply, and Silanos felt his fingers curl his hands into fists by his sides, nails digging into his palms.
She was right, he didn’t give a flying fuck what her job was, but it didn’t mean he was just going to let her run him down like that. She wasn’t his fucking boss, that was for sure. When she pushed into him on her way past, he made his muscles rigid, didn’t roll with her passing but stood firm, so her shoulder knocked his sharply.
That could have been it, that and dirty look sent after her and a few muttered prayers that shed fall into a latrine on her way wherever she was going. But for whatever reason, the bitch just couldn’t seem to let it go, and when she fired her last little diatribe at him, Sil decided that neither could he.
‘You might be some big deal lord back in Colchis, but we’re in Egypt now. When the Egyptians start swinging all the titles in the world aren’t going to protect you. All that’ll matter is how well you can hold your own against a khopesh.’
He might be some big deal lord back in Colchis… Sil ground his teeth together so hard he thought they might crack, blood pounding furiously in his ears, and he’d taken half a step toward the woman without realising he meant to. But then, close enough that he didn’t have to raise his voice over a seething hiss, he leant into her space.
“Why don’t you shut up about what you know nothing about” he spat out, eyes blazing. Screw this hierarchy bullshit, screw Egypt and this shambolic exercise he was being forced to endure. He’d never wanted to come in the first place and now? Now it had cost him everything anyway. And here was this bitter harpy thinking she knew him? Knew shit about his life?He looked her up and down slowly.
“How old are you anyway, Lieutenant? Took a while to suck enough dick to get you that title didn’t it? Well you can go fuck yourself with a khopesh for all I care.”
Phaedra had been ready to turn and leave after her parting shot, but the man’s reaction to her words was nothing that she could just ignore. As he stepped into her space she bristled. The man was beyond insubordinate speaking to her like that, acting like he could just do whatever he wanted.
No, she was an officer. She had to set a good example. The Egyptians were the enemy, not him. Besides, with any luck perhaps they might take care of this little problem for her. She had almost managed to convince herself that he wasn’t worth it. This petulant, entitled useless man deserved no more of her time. Not on the eve of battle. His misbehavior was no reason for her to use her energy on anyone but the enemy they’d be facing in the morning.
Any semblance of self-control was swept to the side as the man opened his mouth again. As Phaedra’s anger rose, it seemed almost as if she acted without thought, attacking him swiftly with a move she had used hundreds of times before. She grabbed, his right wrist and elbow pulling his arm around his back. As she stepped behind him, she caught his legs with a swift kick, sending him face-first into the sand. She kept twisting his arm behind his back, as she put a knee between his shoulder blades.
Phaedra bent over and hissed angrily in his ear. “Maybe that’s how you ended up here, but I got here by being a damn good soldier. I’ve been in the military since before you were even born. You’ve been here, what? five minutes?” She put more of her weight onto her knee, pressing further into his back. “I could kill you right now if I wanted to. You’d best not make me change my mind.”
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Phaedra had been ready to turn and leave after her parting shot, but the man’s reaction to her words was nothing that she could just ignore. As he stepped into her space she bristled. The man was beyond insubordinate speaking to her like that, acting like he could just do whatever he wanted.
No, she was an officer. She had to set a good example. The Egyptians were the enemy, not him. Besides, with any luck perhaps they might take care of this little problem for her. She had almost managed to convince herself that he wasn’t worth it. This petulant, entitled useless man deserved no more of her time. Not on the eve of battle. His misbehavior was no reason for her to use her energy on anyone but the enemy they’d be facing in the morning.
Any semblance of self-control was swept to the side as the man opened his mouth again. As Phaedra’s anger rose, it seemed almost as if she acted without thought, attacking him swiftly with a move she had used hundreds of times before. She grabbed, his right wrist and elbow pulling his arm around his back. As she stepped behind him, she caught his legs with a swift kick, sending him face-first into the sand. She kept twisting his arm behind his back, as she put a knee between his shoulder blades.
Phaedra bent over and hissed angrily in his ear. “Maybe that’s how you ended up here, but I got here by being a damn good soldier. I’ve been in the military since before you were even born. You’ve been here, what? five minutes?” She put more of her weight onto her knee, pressing further into his back. “I could kill you right now if I wanted to. You’d best not make me change my mind.”
Phaedra had been ready to turn and leave after her parting shot, but the man’s reaction to her words was nothing that she could just ignore. As he stepped into her space she bristled. The man was beyond insubordinate speaking to her like that, acting like he could just do whatever he wanted.
No, she was an officer. She had to set a good example. The Egyptians were the enemy, not him. Besides, with any luck perhaps they might take care of this little problem for her. She had almost managed to convince herself that he wasn’t worth it. This petulant, entitled useless man deserved no more of her time. Not on the eve of battle. His misbehavior was no reason for her to use her energy on anyone but the enemy they’d be facing in the morning.
Any semblance of self-control was swept to the side as the man opened his mouth again. As Phaedra’s anger rose, it seemed almost as if she acted without thought, attacking him swiftly with a move she had used hundreds of times before. She grabbed, his right wrist and elbow pulling his arm around his back. As she stepped behind him, she caught his legs with a swift kick, sending him face-first into the sand. She kept twisting his arm behind his back, as she put a knee between his shoulder blades.
Phaedra bent over and hissed angrily in his ear. “Maybe that’s how you ended up here, but I got here by being a damn good soldier. I’ve been in the military since before you were even born. You’ve been here, what? five minutes?” She put more of her weight onto her knee, pressing further into his back. “I could kill you right now if I wanted to. You’d best not make me change my mind.”
He should have anticipated what happened next, but Sil’s temper had distracted him fully enough that the archer got the jump on him when she lashed out physically.She was quick, he’d give her that much.A sharp pain in his shoulder flared, and next thing he knew he was grunting in surprise and outrage at hitting the deck.
As much as having his legs kicked out from under him and getting a mouthful of the beach was uncomfortable, it only served to further enrage the man, and Sil spat out grit and sand and wrenched against Phaedra’s hold on him even as she spoke in his ear and ground her knee into his back.
He’d been here longer than he'd ever fucking wanted to be, that much was true. And he might have laughed at her threat, because he’d had his fair share of those too. But more than that bitter hilarity in the situation was the overwhelming rage that boiled in his veins. He could only growl his fury back at her, finding it difficult to come up with a scathing retort when all he could see was red.
Sil had never thought much about hitting a woman before but there were first times for everything. His free hand fisted in the dirt at his side and he gnashed his teeth, forgetting where they were and that he was walking the finest of lines already. Throwing her off and wrapping his hands around her neck was his only motivation. And for all her advantage in skill and training, the young man was physically her superior. Silanos had started to fill out over the past months,and now Phaedra found herself trying to contain 6ft of angry Colchian. “Get the fuck off” he ground out, bucking hips and setting his teeth against the renewed pain in his shoulder. He rolled away from that pain, shifting under the press of her weight on his back, and with a jerk of his arm had broken free.
Silanos got his hands under him and scrabbled for purchase with his feet, ignoring the flare of discomfort that would be his souvenir from this encounter. He got up to his feet and wheeled to face the woman, his face flushed with rage as he swiped his arm over his lips, spitting on the ground once more to try and rid himself of the dirt he’d eaten. He was about ready to launch himself at her, one hand curling around the hilt of the knife at his belt.
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He should have anticipated what happened next, but Sil’s temper had distracted him fully enough that the archer got the jump on him when she lashed out physically.She was quick, he’d give her that much.A sharp pain in his shoulder flared, and next thing he knew he was grunting in surprise and outrage at hitting the deck.
As much as having his legs kicked out from under him and getting a mouthful of the beach was uncomfortable, it only served to further enrage the man, and Sil spat out grit and sand and wrenched against Phaedra’s hold on him even as she spoke in his ear and ground her knee into his back.
He’d been here longer than he'd ever fucking wanted to be, that much was true. And he might have laughed at her threat, because he’d had his fair share of those too. But more than that bitter hilarity in the situation was the overwhelming rage that boiled in his veins. He could only growl his fury back at her, finding it difficult to come up with a scathing retort when all he could see was red.
Sil had never thought much about hitting a woman before but there were first times for everything. His free hand fisted in the dirt at his side and he gnashed his teeth, forgetting where they were and that he was walking the finest of lines already. Throwing her off and wrapping his hands around her neck was his only motivation. And for all her advantage in skill and training, the young man was physically her superior. Silanos had started to fill out over the past months,and now Phaedra found herself trying to contain 6ft of angry Colchian. “Get the fuck off” he ground out, bucking hips and setting his teeth against the renewed pain in his shoulder. He rolled away from that pain, shifting under the press of her weight on his back, and with a jerk of his arm had broken free.
Silanos got his hands under him and scrabbled for purchase with his feet, ignoring the flare of discomfort that would be his souvenir from this encounter. He got up to his feet and wheeled to face the woman, his face flushed with rage as he swiped his arm over his lips, spitting on the ground once more to try and rid himself of the dirt he’d eaten. He was about ready to launch himself at her, one hand curling around the hilt of the knife at his belt.
He should have anticipated what happened next, but Sil’s temper had distracted him fully enough that the archer got the jump on him when she lashed out physically.She was quick, he’d give her that much.A sharp pain in his shoulder flared, and next thing he knew he was grunting in surprise and outrage at hitting the deck.
As much as having his legs kicked out from under him and getting a mouthful of the beach was uncomfortable, it only served to further enrage the man, and Sil spat out grit and sand and wrenched against Phaedra’s hold on him even as she spoke in his ear and ground her knee into his back.
He’d been here longer than he'd ever fucking wanted to be, that much was true. And he might have laughed at her threat, because he’d had his fair share of those too. But more than that bitter hilarity in the situation was the overwhelming rage that boiled in his veins. He could only growl his fury back at her, finding it difficult to come up with a scathing retort when all he could see was red.
Sil had never thought much about hitting a woman before but there were first times for everything. His free hand fisted in the dirt at his side and he gnashed his teeth, forgetting where they were and that he was walking the finest of lines already. Throwing her off and wrapping his hands around her neck was his only motivation. And for all her advantage in skill and training, the young man was physically her superior. Silanos had started to fill out over the past months,and now Phaedra found herself trying to contain 6ft of angry Colchian. “Get the fuck off” he ground out, bucking hips and setting his teeth against the renewed pain in his shoulder. He rolled away from that pain, shifting under the press of her weight on his back, and with a jerk of his arm had broken free.
Silanos got his hands under him and scrabbled for purchase with his feet, ignoring the flare of discomfort that would be his souvenir from this encounter. He got up to his feet and wheeled to face the woman, his face flushed with rage as he swiped his arm over his lips, spitting on the ground once more to try and rid himself of the dirt he’d eaten. He was about ready to launch himself at her, one hand curling around the hilt of the knife at his belt.
The King still stood tall despite the aching in his bones. The ones that told him he'd fought too hard for too long. He still had days, weeks, months ahead of him. It was no time to find himself tired now. Especially when there were stirrings of anger in his camp. Another solider alerted him to the fight before Tython could see it for himself, earning the soldier a silent glower.
"Show me," was all the King said, motioning for the soldier to lead him through the camp and toward the scuffle on the sandy paths between the tents. His gaze was already growing darker with each step, and a few of the soldiers that had started to follow the two of them actually flinched when Tython started to reach down against his person, unclasping his two favorite weapons. The daggers. The knives. If he was going to put soldiers in their places, he would do it in a way that soothed his own silent rage.
This was a disrespect that he was not going to stand for.
Approaching as Silanos dislodged himself from Liuetenant Phaedra, his steps were soundless across the sand, though his armor did clatter with each step closer and closer to the fighting pair. Tython watched for only a moment, his gaze dropping to the sand to look for a smooth stone that he could use in his venture to pull the two fighting soldiers apart.
Ah. This one was utterly perfect. It was smooth and dark and very round. It would really only cause a goose egg with no sharp edges to break skin. "Hmm..." he muttered to himself, pulling one of his daggers as he continued to move closer. The first dagger he threw toward the sand at Silanos' feet, meaning to distract him before the King wound back the hand holding the stone. He let that fly less than a second later, aiming to smack Silanos straight in the middle of his forehead and knock him off balance. Hopefully onto his ass in the sand. Maybe it'd knock him straight out, which would be good too.
Then Tython's focus was on Phaedra next, pulling his second dagger and approaching on swift feet to knock her right back into the sand with one of his feet sweeping against hers. Then his foot came down to rest against her chest and pin her into the sand, his dark gaze settling on her form with an anger that was only thinly veiled. His hand held the dagger out in a way that would press it against her throat if she tried to sit up. "May I ask what in the Gods' name you think you're doing, Lieutenant?" Tython asked in a very level tone that only spoke of pain and punishment if Phaedra chose the wrong words.
"Pick Lord Silanos up," Tython motioned off to the side to a couple of the other soldiers, who rushed over and worked at getting Silanos back to his feet. "Both of you. My tent. Now. Remove all their weapons," he noted, and another set of soldiers came toward Tython and Phaedra to start removing her of any knives or blades that she had.
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The King still stood tall despite the aching in his bones. The ones that told him he'd fought too hard for too long. He still had days, weeks, months ahead of him. It was no time to find himself tired now. Especially when there were stirrings of anger in his camp. Another solider alerted him to the fight before Tython could see it for himself, earning the soldier a silent glower.
"Show me," was all the King said, motioning for the soldier to lead him through the camp and toward the scuffle on the sandy paths between the tents. His gaze was already growing darker with each step, and a few of the soldiers that had started to follow the two of them actually flinched when Tython started to reach down against his person, unclasping his two favorite weapons. The daggers. The knives. If he was going to put soldiers in their places, he would do it in a way that soothed his own silent rage.
This was a disrespect that he was not going to stand for.
Approaching as Silanos dislodged himself from Liuetenant Phaedra, his steps were soundless across the sand, though his armor did clatter with each step closer and closer to the fighting pair. Tython watched for only a moment, his gaze dropping to the sand to look for a smooth stone that he could use in his venture to pull the two fighting soldiers apart.
Ah. This one was utterly perfect. It was smooth and dark and very round. It would really only cause a goose egg with no sharp edges to break skin. "Hmm..." he muttered to himself, pulling one of his daggers as he continued to move closer. The first dagger he threw toward the sand at Silanos' feet, meaning to distract him before the King wound back the hand holding the stone. He let that fly less than a second later, aiming to smack Silanos straight in the middle of his forehead and knock him off balance. Hopefully onto his ass in the sand. Maybe it'd knock him straight out, which would be good too.
Then Tython's focus was on Phaedra next, pulling his second dagger and approaching on swift feet to knock her right back into the sand with one of his feet sweeping against hers. Then his foot came down to rest against her chest and pin her into the sand, his dark gaze settling on her form with an anger that was only thinly veiled. His hand held the dagger out in a way that would press it against her throat if she tried to sit up. "May I ask what in the Gods' name you think you're doing, Lieutenant?" Tython asked in a very level tone that only spoke of pain and punishment if Phaedra chose the wrong words.
"Pick Lord Silanos up," Tython motioned off to the side to a couple of the other soldiers, who rushed over and worked at getting Silanos back to his feet. "Both of you. My tent. Now. Remove all their weapons," he noted, and another set of soldiers came toward Tython and Phaedra to start removing her of any knives or blades that she had.
The King still stood tall despite the aching in his bones. The ones that told him he'd fought too hard for too long. He still had days, weeks, months ahead of him. It was no time to find himself tired now. Especially when there were stirrings of anger in his camp. Another solider alerted him to the fight before Tython could see it for himself, earning the soldier a silent glower.
"Show me," was all the King said, motioning for the soldier to lead him through the camp and toward the scuffle on the sandy paths between the tents. His gaze was already growing darker with each step, and a few of the soldiers that had started to follow the two of them actually flinched when Tython started to reach down against his person, unclasping his two favorite weapons. The daggers. The knives. If he was going to put soldiers in their places, he would do it in a way that soothed his own silent rage.
This was a disrespect that he was not going to stand for.
Approaching as Silanos dislodged himself from Liuetenant Phaedra, his steps were soundless across the sand, though his armor did clatter with each step closer and closer to the fighting pair. Tython watched for only a moment, his gaze dropping to the sand to look for a smooth stone that he could use in his venture to pull the two fighting soldiers apart.
Ah. This one was utterly perfect. It was smooth and dark and very round. It would really only cause a goose egg with no sharp edges to break skin. "Hmm..." he muttered to himself, pulling one of his daggers as he continued to move closer. The first dagger he threw toward the sand at Silanos' feet, meaning to distract him before the King wound back the hand holding the stone. He let that fly less than a second later, aiming to smack Silanos straight in the middle of his forehead and knock him off balance. Hopefully onto his ass in the sand. Maybe it'd knock him straight out, which would be good too.
Then Tython's focus was on Phaedra next, pulling his second dagger and approaching on swift feet to knock her right back into the sand with one of his feet sweeping against hers. Then his foot came down to rest against her chest and pin her into the sand, his dark gaze settling on her form with an anger that was only thinly veiled. His hand held the dagger out in a way that would press it against her throat if she tried to sit up. "May I ask what in the Gods' name you think you're doing, Lieutenant?" Tython asked in a very level tone that only spoke of pain and punishment if Phaedra chose the wrong words.
"Pick Lord Silanos up," Tython motioned off to the side to a couple of the other soldiers, who rushed over and worked at getting Silanos back to his feet. "Both of you. My tent. Now. Remove all their weapons," he noted, and another set of soldiers came toward Tython and Phaedra to start removing her of any knives or blades that she had.
Phaedra had been hoping that this man had any sense in him at all. His insult had been too much to bear, but she had held back her anger, confident that shoving his face in the sand might teach him a lesson. She’d show him who was boss, he’d grudgingly apologize for insulting her honor, they’d move on. That’s what Phaedra had thought would happen, but this man was not backing down. No not only had this man insulted her, he had had the nerve to be offended when she retaliated. It all might have still been salvageable, had he been willing to admit to his wrongdoing, but then he reached for the knife at his belt.
Phaedra went for her knife as well. Bringing deadly weapons into the mix, her instincts kicked in. She would have to kill him before he killed her. Unfortunately, it turned out she wouldn’t have to kill Silanos after all. As she freed her knife from its sheath, something flew through the air over her shoulder. A knife. Not one to leave her back turned on an assailant, Phaedra pivoted halfway, to try to see where the knife had come from, just in time to see a stone bean Silanos in the head.
Phaedra would have laughed if she hadn’t been immediately falling backward onto the sand. The wind knocked out of her by...her face fell as she recognized the boot on her chest as belonged to Tython, the king of Colchis. Fuck. She’d only meant to teach the little ass-wipe some manners, not create a disturbance in the camp. As he held his knife to her throat, she fell back into the practiced demeanor of a soldier being addressed by her commanding officer. “I was attempting to teach this man some military discipline, sir, your majesty.” The military address slipped out naturally, though she quickly amended the more formal form of address. It never hurt to be extra polite when someone had a blade at your throat.
Phaedra didn’t object as the soldiers came to remove her weapons. There was no reason to risk the king’s life by allowing angry, armed people in his presence. Of course, that meant he wanted to have a proper talking to with the two of them, which Phaedra couldn’t imagine would end well. The knife that had been in her hand had been dropped when she was kicked to the ground. There was one further knife strapped to her sandal, but since she had not been expecting any fighting as they were setting up camp, she had not been armed any further.
What was it about Egypt that always seemed to make the worst possible things happen? There was a reason Phaedra hated this place. They hadn’t even fought any Egyptians yet and already she was finding herself in trouble, and with the king, no less.
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Phaedra had been hoping that this man had any sense in him at all. His insult had been too much to bear, but she had held back her anger, confident that shoving his face in the sand might teach him a lesson. She’d show him who was boss, he’d grudgingly apologize for insulting her honor, they’d move on. That’s what Phaedra had thought would happen, but this man was not backing down. No not only had this man insulted her, he had had the nerve to be offended when she retaliated. It all might have still been salvageable, had he been willing to admit to his wrongdoing, but then he reached for the knife at his belt.
Phaedra went for her knife as well. Bringing deadly weapons into the mix, her instincts kicked in. She would have to kill him before he killed her. Unfortunately, it turned out she wouldn’t have to kill Silanos after all. As she freed her knife from its sheath, something flew through the air over her shoulder. A knife. Not one to leave her back turned on an assailant, Phaedra pivoted halfway, to try to see where the knife had come from, just in time to see a stone bean Silanos in the head.
Phaedra would have laughed if she hadn’t been immediately falling backward onto the sand. The wind knocked out of her by...her face fell as she recognized the boot on her chest as belonged to Tython, the king of Colchis. Fuck. She’d only meant to teach the little ass-wipe some manners, not create a disturbance in the camp. As he held his knife to her throat, she fell back into the practiced demeanor of a soldier being addressed by her commanding officer. “I was attempting to teach this man some military discipline, sir, your majesty.” The military address slipped out naturally, though she quickly amended the more formal form of address. It never hurt to be extra polite when someone had a blade at your throat.
Phaedra didn’t object as the soldiers came to remove her weapons. There was no reason to risk the king’s life by allowing angry, armed people in his presence. Of course, that meant he wanted to have a proper talking to with the two of them, which Phaedra couldn’t imagine would end well. The knife that had been in her hand had been dropped when she was kicked to the ground. There was one further knife strapped to her sandal, but since she had not been expecting any fighting as they were setting up camp, she had not been armed any further.
What was it about Egypt that always seemed to make the worst possible things happen? There was a reason Phaedra hated this place. They hadn’t even fought any Egyptians yet and already she was finding herself in trouble, and with the king, no less.
Phaedra had been hoping that this man had any sense in him at all. His insult had been too much to bear, but she had held back her anger, confident that shoving his face in the sand might teach him a lesson. She’d show him who was boss, he’d grudgingly apologize for insulting her honor, they’d move on. That’s what Phaedra had thought would happen, but this man was not backing down. No not only had this man insulted her, he had had the nerve to be offended when she retaliated. It all might have still been salvageable, had he been willing to admit to his wrongdoing, but then he reached for the knife at his belt.
Phaedra went for her knife as well. Bringing deadly weapons into the mix, her instincts kicked in. She would have to kill him before he killed her. Unfortunately, it turned out she wouldn’t have to kill Silanos after all. As she freed her knife from its sheath, something flew through the air over her shoulder. A knife. Not one to leave her back turned on an assailant, Phaedra pivoted halfway, to try to see where the knife had come from, just in time to see a stone bean Silanos in the head.
Phaedra would have laughed if she hadn’t been immediately falling backward onto the sand. The wind knocked out of her by...her face fell as she recognized the boot on her chest as belonged to Tython, the king of Colchis. Fuck. She’d only meant to teach the little ass-wipe some manners, not create a disturbance in the camp. As he held his knife to her throat, she fell back into the practiced demeanor of a soldier being addressed by her commanding officer. “I was attempting to teach this man some military discipline, sir, your majesty.” The military address slipped out naturally, though she quickly amended the more formal form of address. It never hurt to be extra polite when someone had a blade at your throat.
Phaedra didn’t object as the soldiers came to remove her weapons. There was no reason to risk the king’s life by allowing angry, armed people in his presence. Of course, that meant he wanted to have a proper talking to with the two of them, which Phaedra couldn’t imagine would end well. The knife that had been in her hand had been dropped when she was kicked to the ground. There was one further knife strapped to her sandal, but since she had not been expecting any fighting as they were setting up camp, she had not been armed any further.
What was it about Egypt that always seemed to make the worst possible things happen? There was a reason Phaedra hated this place. They hadn’t even fought any Egyptians yet and already she was finding herself in trouble, and with the king, no less.
Silanos didn’t have a plan much beyond acting upon the sheer rage he felt toward the blonde woman. His fingers curled around the leather wrapped hilt of the knife without him having a clear thought as to his intent, the furious pounding of his pulse making it diffuse to think at all.
With his attention so focused upon the Lieutenant he hadn’t stopped to notice that their altercation had attracted the attention of others, certainly hadn’t paid attention to King’s approach and it was only the thunk of a knife embedding itself in the sand at his feet that had his gaze leave the archer, confusion replacing the scowl sneer on his face. And then something smacked him in the head. Hard.
“Ah! Fuck!”
A hand came up to press at his forehead even as the young man dropped to his knees, stars bursting in his field of vision for a moment. When he blinked and looked up to try and figure out what had assailed him, he had to squint before his gaze sharpened and he made out the tall figure of the King leaning over Phaedra who was now flat on her back on the sand.
He pulled his hand away, half expecting to see it covered in blood but there was nothing save for the dull throb, and before Sil had gathered his wits enough to do it himself he was being yanked up to his feet, summarily divested of the weapons he wore and then given a sharp nudge in his back to move, he assumed, to the King’s tent.
Silanos knew where it was, given he’d dictated its placement himself, but he wished he didn’t’ as he stumbled in that direction. The shock of the blow to the head seemed to have brought him back to his senses, and though still angry at the archer’s treatment of him, he was also coming to realise that this was bad. Really bad.
Rubbing at what felt like a sizeable knot on his brow, Sil shot a glance at the Lieutenant and then looked toward the very straight back of the Kotas man ahead of them. He didn’t know what Vangelis had told his father of...anything, but he hoped it had not involved the latest revelation he’d revealed to the Prince. He wasn’t sure where his new standing would leave him, if it were known.
It was a sullen expression on the young man’s face as he paused at the entrance to the King’s tent, awaiting permission to enter. He was wondering how he could spin what had happened and hoping to all the Gods that no one had overheard the antagonistic way he’d spoken to the Lieutenant. Why did his fucking mouth always get him into trouble?
With a rather belated show of manners, he waited for Phaedra to go ahead of him into the tent and then ducked into behind her, his teeth catching and worrying the inside of his cheek as he waited for the King to speak. Or maybe the King was waiting for them to speak? Silanos couldn’t think of what to say though, and so he kept his mouth shut. For once.
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Silanos didn’t have a plan much beyond acting upon the sheer rage he felt toward the blonde woman. His fingers curled around the leather wrapped hilt of the knife without him having a clear thought as to his intent, the furious pounding of his pulse making it diffuse to think at all.
With his attention so focused upon the Lieutenant he hadn’t stopped to notice that their altercation had attracted the attention of others, certainly hadn’t paid attention to King’s approach and it was only the thunk of a knife embedding itself in the sand at his feet that had his gaze leave the archer, confusion replacing the scowl sneer on his face. And then something smacked him in the head. Hard.
“Ah! Fuck!”
A hand came up to press at his forehead even as the young man dropped to his knees, stars bursting in his field of vision for a moment. When he blinked and looked up to try and figure out what had assailed him, he had to squint before his gaze sharpened and he made out the tall figure of the King leaning over Phaedra who was now flat on her back on the sand.
He pulled his hand away, half expecting to see it covered in blood but there was nothing save for the dull throb, and before Sil had gathered his wits enough to do it himself he was being yanked up to his feet, summarily divested of the weapons he wore and then given a sharp nudge in his back to move, he assumed, to the King’s tent.
Silanos knew where it was, given he’d dictated its placement himself, but he wished he didn’t’ as he stumbled in that direction. The shock of the blow to the head seemed to have brought him back to his senses, and though still angry at the archer’s treatment of him, he was also coming to realise that this was bad. Really bad.
Rubbing at what felt like a sizeable knot on his brow, Sil shot a glance at the Lieutenant and then looked toward the very straight back of the Kotas man ahead of them. He didn’t know what Vangelis had told his father of...anything, but he hoped it had not involved the latest revelation he’d revealed to the Prince. He wasn’t sure where his new standing would leave him, if it were known.
It was a sullen expression on the young man’s face as he paused at the entrance to the King’s tent, awaiting permission to enter. He was wondering how he could spin what had happened and hoping to all the Gods that no one had overheard the antagonistic way he’d spoken to the Lieutenant. Why did his fucking mouth always get him into trouble?
With a rather belated show of manners, he waited for Phaedra to go ahead of him into the tent and then ducked into behind her, his teeth catching and worrying the inside of his cheek as he waited for the King to speak. Or maybe the King was waiting for them to speak? Silanos couldn’t think of what to say though, and so he kept his mouth shut. For once.
Silanos didn’t have a plan much beyond acting upon the sheer rage he felt toward the blonde woman. His fingers curled around the leather wrapped hilt of the knife without him having a clear thought as to his intent, the furious pounding of his pulse making it diffuse to think at all.
With his attention so focused upon the Lieutenant he hadn’t stopped to notice that their altercation had attracted the attention of others, certainly hadn’t paid attention to King’s approach and it was only the thunk of a knife embedding itself in the sand at his feet that had his gaze leave the archer, confusion replacing the scowl sneer on his face. And then something smacked him in the head. Hard.
“Ah! Fuck!”
A hand came up to press at his forehead even as the young man dropped to his knees, stars bursting in his field of vision for a moment. When he blinked and looked up to try and figure out what had assailed him, he had to squint before his gaze sharpened and he made out the tall figure of the King leaning over Phaedra who was now flat on her back on the sand.
He pulled his hand away, half expecting to see it covered in blood but there was nothing save for the dull throb, and before Sil had gathered his wits enough to do it himself he was being yanked up to his feet, summarily divested of the weapons he wore and then given a sharp nudge in his back to move, he assumed, to the King’s tent.
Silanos knew where it was, given he’d dictated its placement himself, but he wished he didn’t’ as he stumbled in that direction. The shock of the blow to the head seemed to have brought him back to his senses, and though still angry at the archer’s treatment of him, he was also coming to realise that this was bad. Really bad.
Rubbing at what felt like a sizeable knot on his brow, Sil shot a glance at the Lieutenant and then looked toward the very straight back of the Kotas man ahead of them. He didn’t know what Vangelis had told his father of...anything, but he hoped it had not involved the latest revelation he’d revealed to the Prince. He wasn’t sure where his new standing would leave him, if it were known.
It was a sullen expression on the young man’s face as he paused at the entrance to the King’s tent, awaiting permission to enter. He was wondering how he could spin what had happened and hoping to all the Gods that no one had overheard the antagonistic way he’d spoken to the Lieutenant. Why did his fucking mouth always get him into trouble?
With a rather belated show of manners, he waited for Phaedra to go ahead of him into the tent and then ducked into behind her, his teeth catching and worrying the inside of his cheek as he waited for the King to speak. Or maybe the King was waiting for them to speak? Silanos couldn’t think of what to say though, and so he kept his mouth shut. For once.
Relieving himself of having to keep Phaedra pinned into the sand, the King stepped back, letting the other soldiers come forth and haul the woman to her feet. She was entirely displeased with both soldiers' behavior, the expectation having been for both of them to act properly in front of their subordinates. His expression stony, Tython curled his lip just the slightest bit at Phaedra's explaination about why both of them had pulled actual weapons on each other. That hadn't been military discipline. There was no practice there. Just ill intent, and the King found himself furious.
Motioning with his head back in the direction of the tent, he let the soldiers lead Phaedra and Silanos ahead of himself, stooping down to pick up his lost dagger and the rock that he had used to beam Silanos in the skull. He liked this stone, and he'd find himself keeping it on his person from here on. A momento of an irritating, though hilarious moment when he would look back on it later. Clenching the smooth stone in his fist, King Tython finally followed after the contingent of soldiers that had made their way to his tent.
Soldiers parted as he approached, entering into the tent before Silanos and Phaedra were both brought into the King's private space behind him. Moving toward the war table, Tython slid one fo the large maps out of his way before he turned his back to it and leaned against the wood. His brows were set in a hard near-scowl, the stony edge lost and replaced with something far worse.
The king carefully tossed the stone in his hand up in the air, catching it with ease. Then his stormy-grey gaze drifted to the two, keeping with the repetitive motion of tossing the rock and then catching it again. And again. And again. Even when he spoke, he didn't stop, his muscles itching to put both of them in the ground, but having to simply deal with this singular motion to delay his frustrations. "The next one of you who goes after the other is getting this stone through their skull, rather than against it," the king said in an icy warning tone, looking pointedly at first Silanos and then Phaedra. "We are at war and don't truly have time to deal with whatever bulls shit you just laid in my lap."
Catching his stone, he gripped it in his hand and then pointed a single finger at Phaedra, "The next time you see fit to teach a man military manners, I best not see a blade in your hand. You know well enough that a blade does not mean training, it means harm. The only thing you were attempting to do was teach this man to die," the King said sharply, "And I am disappointed in you, Lieutenant. You come so highly praised, though I'm wondering if your superiors are mistaken if you can so easily toss propriety to the side in order to teach a boy a 'lesson'," Tython's teeth were grit together, anger flashing in his eyes. "If you step so much as one toe out of line again, you will see yourself retired as soon as you step foot back on Colchian shores. Do you understand me?"
Without waiting for her answer, his gaze then drifted toward Silanos, starting to toss his favorite little stone up and down again, thinking for a long moment. "If you wanted someone to push your face into the sand, you only needed to ask," Tython said in a deadly calm, "You don't have the clout nor the experience to go toe to toe with an accomplished officer, Silanos," he said slowly, "If you show this kind of disrespect to one of my men again, I'll see you working in the mines post-war until I'm satisfied you've learned a good lesson. You will do the job assigned to you, you will raise your blade against the enemy, and that is all. Have I made myself clear? Your options are simple. Sit down and shut up, or wither away in Magnemea until Lady Tythra says otherwise."
And then Tython quieted, looking to both of his soldiers with a look that expected answers.
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Relieving himself of having to keep Phaedra pinned into the sand, the King stepped back, letting the other soldiers come forth and haul the woman to her feet. She was entirely displeased with both soldiers' behavior, the expectation having been for both of them to act properly in front of their subordinates. His expression stony, Tython curled his lip just the slightest bit at Phaedra's explaination about why both of them had pulled actual weapons on each other. That hadn't been military discipline. There was no practice there. Just ill intent, and the King found himself furious.
Motioning with his head back in the direction of the tent, he let the soldiers lead Phaedra and Silanos ahead of himself, stooping down to pick up his lost dagger and the rock that he had used to beam Silanos in the skull. He liked this stone, and he'd find himself keeping it on his person from here on. A momento of an irritating, though hilarious moment when he would look back on it later. Clenching the smooth stone in his fist, King Tython finally followed after the contingent of soldiers that had made their way to his tent.
Soldiers parted as he approached, entering into the tent before Silanos and Phaedra were both brought into the King's private space behind him. Moving toward the war table, Tython slid one fo the large maps out of his way before he turned his back to it and leaned against the wood. His brows were set in a hard near-scowl, the stony edge lost and replaced with something far worse.
The king carefully tossed the stone in his hand up in the air, catching it with ease. Then his stormy-grey gaze drifted to the two, keeping with the repetitive motion of tossing the rock and then catching it again. And again. And again. Even when he spoke, he didn't stop, his muscles itching to put both of them in the ground, but having to simply deal with this singular motion to delay his frustrations. "The next one of you who goes after the other is getting this stone through their skull, rather than against it," the king said in an icy warning tone, looking pointedly at first Silanos and then Phaedra. "We are at war and don't truly have time to deal with whatever bulls shit you just laid in my lap."
Catching his stone, he gripped it in his hand and then pointed a single finger at Phaedra, "The next time you see fit to teach a man military manners, I best not see a blade in your hand. You know well enough that a blade does not mean training, it means harm. The only thing you were attempting to do was teach this man to die," the King said sharply, "And I am disappointed in you, Lieutenant. You come so highly praised, though I'm wondering if your superiors are mistaken if you can so easily toss propriety to the side in order to teach a boy a 'lesson'," Tython's teeth were grit together, anger flashing in his eyes. "If you step so much as one toe out of line again, you will see yourself retired as soon as you step foot back on Colchian shores. Do you understand me?"
Without waiting for her answer, his gaze then drifted toward Silanos, starting to toss his favorite little stone up and down again, thinking for a long moment. "If you wanted someone to push your face into the sand, you only needed to ask," Tython said in a deadly calm, "You don't have the clout nor the experience to go toe to toe with an accomplished officer, Silanos," he said slowly, "If you show this kind of disrespect to one of my men again, I'll see you working in the mines post-war until I'm satisfied you've learned a good lesson. You will do the job assigned to you, you will raise your blade against the enemy, and that is all. Have I made myself clear? Your options are simple. Sit down and shut up, or wither away in Magnemea until Lady Tythra says otherwise."
And then Tython quieted, looking to both of his soldiers with a look that expected answers.
Relieving himself of having to keep Phaedra pinned into the sand, the King stepped back, letting the other soldiers come forth and haul the woman to her feet. She was entirely displeased with both soldiers' behavior, the expectation having been for both of them to act properly in front of their subordinates. His expression stony, Tython curled his lip just the slightest bit at Phaedra's explaination about why both of them had pulled actual weapons on each other. That hadn't been military discipline. There was no practice there. Just ill intent, and the King found himself furious.
Motioning with his head back in the direction of the tent, he let the soldiers lead Phaedra and Silanos ahead of himself, stooping down to pick up his lost dagger and the rock that he had used to beam Silanos in the skull. He liked this stone, and he'd find himself keeping it on his person from here on. A momento of an irritating, though hilarious moment when he would look back on it later. Clenching the smooth stone in his fist, King Tython finally followed after the contingent of soldiers that had made their way to his tent.
Soldiers parted as he approached, entering into the tent before Silanos and Phaedra were both brought into the King's private space behind him. Moving toward the war table, Tython slid one fo the large maps out of his way before he turned his back to it and leaned against the wood. His brows were set in a hard near-scowl, the stony edge lost and replaced with something far worse.
The king carefully tossed the stone in his hand up in the air, catching it with ease. Then his stormy-grey gaze drifted to the two, keeping with the repetitive motion of tossing the rock and then catching it again. And again. And again. Even when he spoke, he didn't stop, his muscles itching to put both of them in the ground, but having to simply deal with this singular motion to delay his frustrations. "The next one of you who goes after the other is getting this stone through their skull, rather than against it," the king said in an icy warning tone, looking pointedly at first Silanos and then Phaedra. "We are at war and don't truly have time to deal with whatever bulls shit you just laid in my lap."
Catching his stone, he gripped it in his hand and then pointed a single finger at Phaedra, "The next time you see fit to teach a man military manners, I best not see a blade in your hand. You know well enough that a blade does not mean training, it means harm. The only thing you were attempting to do was teach this man to die," the King said sharply, "And I am disappointed in you, Lieutenant. You come so highly praised, though I'm wondering if your superiors are mistaken if you can so easily toss propriety to the side in order to teach a boy a 'lesson'," Tython's teeth were grit together, anger flashing in his eyes. "If you step so much as one toe out of line again, you will see yourself retired as soon as you step foot back on Colchian shores. Do you understand me?"
Without waiting for her answer, his gaze then drifted toward Silanos, starting to toss his favorite little stone up and down again, thinking for a long moment. "If you wanted someone to push your face into the sand, you only needed to ask," Tython said in a deadly calm, "You don't have the clout nor the experience to go toe to toe with an accomplished officer, Silanos," he said slowly, "If you show this kind of disrespect to one of my men again, I'll see you working in the mines post-war until I'm satisfied you've learned a good lesson. You will do the job assigned to you, you will raise your blade against the enemy, and that is all. Have I made myself clear? Your options are simple. Sit down and shut up, or wither away in Magnemea until Lady Tythra says otherwise."
And then Tython quieted, looking to both of his soldiers with a look that expected answers.
