Beginning the Hunt
Sleeping in ruins had never been on Kassandra’s list of events she wished to transpire before she died. Then again, her death would be many, many years from now, if the pyramid was anything to go off of. A great number of wishes could be fulfilled in that time. Kassandra could very well walk to the edges of the Earth and back, should she desire (though some Athenian students had begun speculation that the Earth held a curvature… this was why she didn’t miss the symposium atmosphere at all). But sleeping in ruins had not been on the list, at any rate.
The main room was filled with food, documents, weapons, and other miscellaneous supplies. Not much furniture. It was clear Natakas and Darius were always on the run, though this hideout seemed a little more lived in than most camps Kassandra stumbled upon.
She enjoyed a quick piece of bread and some fruit, washing it down with a cup of wine before stretching and buckling her armor together. She preferred the blue Athenian pieces that she’d fashioned over the years, partially to throw people off, since many knew the Eagle Bearer to be a Spartan. And… partially… as an homage to her Athenian friends. After what had happened, if she had to settle down somewhere, she might look towards Attika instead of Lakonia. Salamis had a quaint air to it… she could do freelance work for Demosthenes or Alkibiades…
It would be nice. For a while.
Gods, she’d been at this for almost ten years. Ten years of destroying the hydra that was the Cult. Ten years of trying to repair her family and create a real life for herself. And what had she gotten? Phoibe murdered in the streets. Her mother stabbed and bleeding on the cliffs of Taygetos. Her brother, dead by her own spear. Brasidas―
“Are you going to brood all day, or are you ready to get to work?”
Hmph. Darius. She knew he had a bit of a temper when it came to productivity, but Kassandra didn’t appreciate being bossed around by the man who had tried to kill her less than a day ago. Though Natakas had intervened, she’d come very close to ending the old man’s life. She was glad, now, that she hadn’t. Just one more essence of carnage she could have wrought upon the world.
“I am ready to do your bidding, yes,” she snipped back at him.
“Natakas has gone out hunting if you wish to speak with him. I assume you saw my notes for the Order members we can start tracking down.”
“I noticed. I’ll start with this Phratagoune you wrote about. The Daughters of Artemis are a hunting group spread across most of northern Greece. If someone was training bears to act in hostility towards civilians, they would know where that person was and how to defeat them. Eyes of the Forest, one might call them.”
Darius nodded, taking a bite of his breakfast stew before continuing, “That sounds like a good plan. Don’t trust anyone.”
She had, of course, told this man and his son all about the Cult last night, about her plight to dismantle their iron grip upon the known world. Yet he continued to patronize her. A six foot-tall demigod with not one but two Isu artifacts at her disposal. Kassandra gave him a mustered, polite-as-could-be bow, and turned to trot down the hill and away from the ruins.
Pompous ass.
He reminded her of Nikolaus, ever serious and unwilling to accept outside advice or criticism. Yet, there was a reason he’d made it this far evading an entire nation of antagonistic factions. She could not say the same, as she glanced down at the various scars adorning her arms and armor.
“You’re back!”
She liked Natakas well enough. He reminded her of a puppy, with his wide eyes and goofy grin. His clothes were a little odd; beautiful colors but he took to wearing those strange pantelóni the Persians seemed fond of. Must feel weird, but she figured to each their own. His shoes weren’t so much shoes as they were footwraps― given that they were going to be traipsing around the Makedonian wilderness for at least a month while they sorted all this out, Kassandra made a note to bring him a pair of good sandals from the Adrestia later.
“Kassandra, what are you doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same!”
Natakas gave her a warm smile, “I find doing something practical helps me get my thoughts together.”
“You like hunting?”
Kassandra glanced at the sturdy bow in his hands and the quiver full of arrows, albeit of a weaker stock than she typically carried. Hunting arrows are specifically lighter, she remembered, and you use heavy, deadly war arrows because you are a kille―
“I do. There’s deer here usually.”
They agreed to hunt together, as Ikaros let out a screech above them that interrupted her investigation into his father. Natakas had his bow out, but let her lead, observing her technique with great interest. Not that it would matter, she’d seen his aim firsthand, when he’d shot a Spartan perfectly in the eye through his helmet from far too many paces away. He would make a good Daughter of Artemis, if they ever let a humble Persian man into their ranks. She liked the Makedonian forests. She enjoyed spending time with someone quiet and respectful, who wouldn’t scare off the elk with his clumsy footsteps like Barnabas would. It was… a different change of pace.
When they did speak, between kills, it was of Darius. Of how he trained rigorously, despite his age. Of how he never ceased his work. It was clear to Kassandra that the burden on Natakas’s shoulders was heavy, and she could relate.
They spotted a boar, causing Kassandra’s stomach to rumble. She had always loved boar as a child, ever since Nikolaus had taken her on a hunting trip in the Valley of Aristomenes. Hell, when she’d slain the Kalydonian Boar (or it’s descendent, or what have you) all those years ago in Phokis, the crew of the Adrestia had dined for almost a whole week on the best combinations of recipes that Gelon and Odessa could come up with. She would absolutely go for boar for tonight’s dinner. Natakas remained quiet and flat against the stone as she drew her bow and fired twice, both shots between the eyes. He let out a small whistle of approval as the pig stumbled into a nearby bush.
Natakas, as it turned out, had grown up cooking for himself and his father. Back in the ruins, with Darius nowhere to be found, she watched as he brought out several pouches of Persian spices and a jar of Athenian honey.
The smell. By Artemis, she could get used to that! If Natakas would cook for her and her crew everyday, Kassandra might just take up hunting as a profession instead.
Natakas added another scrap of meat and a cup of wine to the small piece of wood he was using as a table on the ground. “It’s an old family recipe. My grandmother would be happy to hear!” he said.
She finished her plate, warming herself by the fire, and looked out towards the darkening blue sky.
“With all that’s happened in Makedonia, I guess you can’t stay here,” she sighed. She understood how it felt to live on the road. She could sympathise with these two.
“I don’t know. We’ve always run. Ever since I was a child. My mother would find a way. No matter if we were by the side of the road or in a cave somewhere - she’d find a way to keep us warm. Safe. Like we had a home. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that again.”
Myrinne. Bleeding out on the stone flooring carved into Taygetos. Gently holding her as tight as she could, as though, somehow, Kassandra could keep her mother from floating down the River Styx.
Kassandra shook her head, “She’s gone now?”
“Years ago. Same with my siblings. The Order. The last time I saw them was the last time I saw my sister Neema alive. What… what about you? What about your past?”
Alexios. Deimos. Taunting that Kassandra could never protect anyone as he killed her mother. As he killed Perikles. As he killed Brasidas. The spear, thrust into his throat and turning red. Everything turning red as his brown eyes (same color as hers) turned wide with fear. His body being kicked in anger repeatedly by Kassandra as her mother’s body grew cold.
“I never knew a true home, either,” she admitted in defeat. “I grew up fending for myself, hoping there’d be a place out there where I’d feel, as you said… warm. I haven’t found it.”
A party in Athens, raising their goblets to the air. A symposium of free thinkers, poking and prodding at a gruff warrior for her opinion on some stupid theoretical scenario. Herodotus and Alkibiades and Socrates and Aristophanes... and though she didn’t quite understand what there was to consider homely about it, a flash of purple.
Kassandra glanced at Natakas’s wide green eyes, rapt in attention at her sob story.
“And anyways, I don’t think it exists.”
Natakas shrugged and glanced back at the Aegean, with Skyros and Euboea sleeping in the distance, “We’re shaped by our pasts. Not defined by them.”
The silence that followed after prompted Kassandra to wonder if she had made a new friend. It felt… peaceful. She’d never really had a friend her age before. And certainly not one with as much in common with her life as Natakas had. It was… nice.
“Are you ready to get to work?”
“I brought you enough food to last a month, old man,” the misthios grumbled, sitting on a pile of stone rubble. “I grew up on Kephallonia, sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m a lazy lowlife.”
Darius kept the ruins fairly dark throughout the hallways to prevent local gawkers from climbing up and investigating. When they were cooking, there would be a small fire in the hearth at the center of the main room, but otherwise only small torches here and there that gave off a rather pathetic light. When he wasn’t looking, Kassandra placed a small offering to Hestia to brighten the flames as much as possible; that they might study their documents and plans without hurting their eyes.
“I heard back from the Daughters of Artemis this morning,” Kassandra prompted, when Darius refused to comment on her hunting. “A duo from Lamia is planning on meeting up with me at the base of Mount Pangeon within the next few days.”
“You’ll head to the fort at some point, yes? One of the Ancients regularly visits and we need to know why.”
“Aye, the Adrestia will sail to Amphipolis under the guise of mercenary work. The people of the city know I participated in the battle there a few months ago, I should be able to sell the act quite well. From Amphipolis, I’ll sneak into the fort during the night and check the nation's treasury. I might keep what funds I find, I do need to feed my crew after all.”
“I do hope you understand subtlety,” Darius sighed, not looking up from his letter.
Kassandra knew she shouldn’t have. She figured Darius wouldn’t go spilling her trade secrets and that using the powers of the spear around him was safe, especially considering their previous bout. She still shouldn’t have. But she did.
She gently unclasped the spear from its sheathe and closed her eyes, running her thumb along the grip. Her entire body turned invisible, the only indication of her magic being a small hum. The demigod stood and walked over to where Darius was sitting, hunched over his documents, and used the tip of her spear to send the letters flying into his face. The action broke the magic, but it was worth it to see the old man jump, startled and standing, ready to fight.
It was worth it to hear Natakas’s laughter ring through the decrepit halls from his post guarding the entrance of the ruins. It was worth it to see the anger on Darius’s face.
“Even a mercenary with a reputation like mine knows subtlety,” she said with a grin.
“Apparently.”