195 Change of Hear (2/2)
”Lord Pacha, should we send the next visitor?” his attendant interrupted the dreaded thought that had circled in Pacha's head for days.
”Another one? How many times will these lords come over here and try to flatter me with their plundered goods? What is the point when they only take them from my own people? Even more, when they keep all the best pieces for themselves?”
”No, this time, it is one of our runners with news from the east.”
”Fine, bring him in,” he frowned. Maybe this time, the news would be good for a change, though going by his recent track record in the war, Pacha didn't have much hope.
After a while, the king had received a letter from his spies in the east. His frown had only deepened after reading its contents. Corco's attendant had somehow smuggled an entire army into Lord Nasica's lands and was now on his way south. Even with all their experience, Pacha's fake bandits were not strong enough to stop them.
For a moment, Pacha thought it might be another fake from his sly nephew, but soon gave up on the idea. The information seemed secure enough. Even though he had lost a few of his runners over the past few days in scuffles with Corco's own, he was still in charge of the central kingdom and a move this large would be impossible for the enemy to fake.
In theory, this move-out should be good news to Pacha. The only reason Corco had invaded the north was because Pacha had his nephew's attendant trapped in his lands. Once the attendant managed to cross the southern border, the King of the Center would be stuck in front of that blasted Qarasi Castle again.
However, his warriors in the east would do everything to slow down the attendant, time enough to intercept them. If he turned east now, Corco would have no choice but to block his path to guarantee a smooth journey for his servant. Now that he knew about the enemy movements in the east, Pacha would finally have the big confrontation with his nephew he had always wanted. All he had to do was march east.
Yet as the great moment drew near he hesitated, very much unlike himself. He remembered the chaotic mess of bodies and limbs he had found all around the hill of Rupilo's defeat. He remembered the sight of his men's lives being harvested in front of Qarasi Castle.
More than anything however, he still felt the moment when his nephew had ruined his future. Unconsciously, his left hand cradled his right elbow, the one that wouldn't bend well ever since that day, and he felt the full cold of winter in his bones. However, he remembered something else, the moment he looked up through the pain and saw his nephew walk off with Pacha's hair in his hand. It was a shame he would have to make up for, even if it cost him everything.
Who cared if he had failed? Who cared if he would fail again? As his hands ran through the short hair on his head, he realized that honor didn't matter for him. Whatever honor he had possessed, he had lost back during the Nobles' Assembly. The only way to regain it would be by stepping forward without fear. Although the Ichilia servant had been a pain, he had been correct in one respect: Pride would only get in the way of victory.
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His spirit renewed, the king jumped out of his throne.
”Tell the men to get ready for march. As soon as Herak arrives, we head for the east, to teach the southerners the lesson they deserve.”
”Yes, King Pachacutec,” his attendant replied in a solemn tone.
Right before the king left his command tent, he looked back to his servant. ”And get rid of the capes. We are at war, not in a parade.”
”Yes, King Pachacutec.” This time, the voice sounded much warmer, enough to combat the cold.
Determined to make up for his mistakes, Pacha rushed down the hill, his guards in tow. Soon enough, he reached the temporary tents his uncle's envoy's had erected close-by. When he burst inside, he saw several men in fancy silks sit around a small fire and talk in whispers. Chief among them was the nuisance from earlier. Thus, Pacha saw himself confronted by his uncle Ichilia's Official Mito once again.
”Official Mito, this king has changed his mind,” he said, no shame on his face or in his heart. ”Tell my uncle to send as many men as he can. We will need all the support we can get to beat back the southern warriors.”
At first, the servants seemed panicked at the sudden intrusion, but soon, their leader's eyes and mouth turned into crescent moons.
”A wise decision, King.” The smug servant barely bothered to hide the contempt in his voice.
”However, this king has no intention to cooperate with a lord who cannot educate his subordinates on proper conduct.” Pacha smiled as he ignored the annoying Mito and turned to the other servants his uncle had sent. ”Back when he presented Lord Ichilia's offer, Official Mito insulted this king, calling him incompetent and vain. If these are the best servants Lord Ichilia has to offer, then we do not need his support. We expect an answer on this issue, or we will fight the war alone.”
While the king spoke, the servant's smugness faded into nothing. As a warrior of House Ichilia, he would know Pacha's uncle even better than Pacha himself did. Normally, a slap on Mito's wrist would be enough to satisfy the king's demand for an answer. However, Divitius Ichilia was a man who didn't do half-measures. The servant would be lucky if the rest of his family would be spared and only he would be dead. After all, what was a single servant's life compared to the grand plans of Divitius Ichilia?
”King Pachacutec, please show mercy,” the servant whimpered, all his previous guts lost now that his big backer had been turned against him. However, the king had greater issues to worry about than a rude servant.
”Tell my uncle: Next time he sends me an envoy, it better be someone with manners.”
With the last of his bad mood driven away, Pacha felt his old heroism return as he left the tent of the diplomats. He had a war to win, and no amount of greedy lords or petty servants would stand in his way.