Eyes of the Forest
It was mid-afternoon when she finally set out from Rock Arch, saddling up Phobos and adding his bridle while Darius watched from the comfortable shade of the hideout. Indeed, the heat was intense, even as far north as Makedonia. She was glad to be far from the dusty oblivion that was Crete. The only reason she’d even consider going back to Messara or Pephka would be to pick up Ardos to add him as a crewmate. What could she say? She’d grown fond of the kid. He reminded her far too much of Phoibe.
Fortunately for Phobos, the terrain of Makedonia was far more acceptable for his hooves than the rocky terrain of Crete. Some stone cliff sides here and there, sure, but for the most parts the forests were lush with bountiful rolling grass that absorbed his thundering gallop.
“Easy there, I don’t want to tire you out so soon. This Phratagoune is hidden far into the mountains. We have at least a day of travel, if not more,” she muttered.
Kassandra’s ramblings were directed towards herself, but the notion that her loyal companions might receive her musings always did keep her from feeling so lonely. And Gods knew, after a decade of roaming the entire country, Kassandra was, indeed, a woman familiar with solitude.
Though slower, it was safer to keep Phobos at a trot and save his energy. The woods were thick with bears, wolves, and lynx. If she needed a quick escape, it would do well for her horse to not be so exhausted that he might stumble and trip. And, it allowed her to better survey the landscape that she would be spending quite some time at, if Darius’s warnings were to be believed.
Her best armor had been left on the Adrestia, in the safe hands of Barnabas. Instead, she’d chosen to wear gray robes that could easily mistake her for a pilgrim or a priest. A hood covered her head, preventing the sun from blinding her eyes. It would be dangerous, fighting without armor. A part of her knew, though, that the Staff would keep her safe.
Kassandra finally shook herself from her thoughts;
“I see the valley where she hides, Ikaros!”
A shriek from the skies answered her observation. She held out her arm and the bird landed perfectly on her glove, trusting that his weight would be balanced with care and respect. Phobos’s ears flickered, but after all these years he had learned that the raptor meant him no harm. Kassandra took a moment to allow her horse to catch his breath while she studied the valley, noting the small Spartan tent along the road and the herd of elk patiently watching her from a distance, unsure if they ought to flee.
“Come on, then, we should do this while light hangs in the sky.”
They galloped past a lake, where she noted a bear gently washing his fur. Kassandra gave it a wide berth, not wishing for a fight with a beast the size of a chariot. She could only imagine the population of predators would grow to an unnatural amount the closer she came to Phratagoune. She didn’t want to put Phobos in danger.
Eventually, Kassandra found an open field to the east of where Darius had speculated the Ancient’s camp would be. She dismounted and pulled Phobo’s bridle off, so that he wouldn’t tangle himself, and let him graze. Worst case scenario, someone would assume it was a lost horse and take it to Potidaia. Well, second worst case. She supposed a pack of wolves might give Phobos a run for his drachmae, but supposedly most of the Huntsman’s wolf packs were closer to Amphipoli―
“You are standing out in the open? You make for a poor hunter!”
True, the voice startled Kassandra, but at least she didn’t actually thrust her spear into the bush as Kephalos had. Instead, she drew her bow and backed up, waiting for this newcomer to show themself.
Two bodies left the brush, twenty feet apart from each other. Though adorned in simple brown himations that were then kept in place with leather strappings, the women were easily attributed to their faction by the faded (but detailed) warpaint sprawling across their limbs and faces. Daughters of Artemis. Formidable hunters, and equally formidable foes.
“We were expecting you yesterday.”
“My apologies. I am new to the terrain.”
Both women were young, barely able to be considered adults. Their eyes were wide as they analyzed this city-dweller, and it was obvious one of them held back a quip. They did not seem as well armed as Kassandra was hoping. If these were the reinforcements she was hoping for, perhaps she would be better off traveling al―
“Beast Slayer. I do hope you brought your best arrows.”
She'd always enjoyed that deeper, sultry voice of the huntress; carrying with it an air of mysticism. A shoulder brushed against her own with a familiar fondness, and Kassandra relaxed with a smirk. Of course.
Daphnae was not wearing her usual pale tunic, but rather a fine set of handcrafted leathers, an orange chiton and hood, with the pelt of a wolf resting on the shoulders. She gave the misthios a respectful bow and made a signal with her hands to the others. The younger hunters nodded and disappeared back into the brush.
“I didn’t think you would ever leave your temple. Does someone babysit the shrine for you?”
“As though I miss the opportunity to fight alongside one as legendary as you?”
Kassandra laughed and gave Daphnae a firm handshake. For all the people whom she had met and befriended, she did appreciate the wise, untamed priestess the most. Daphnae was older than Kassandra by at least a decade, crows feet hidden beneath the makeup and war paint she currently adorned herself with. Yet, for her age, she was still incredibly fit and muscular, clearly prepared to climb the cliffs and trees of this northern forest.
“Come then, my friend. And leave the whelps behind. We will work best as a quiet, skillful duo.”
“Hmm… they won’t want to hear that. I’ll have them thin out the bears in the area,” Daphnae chuckled. “Then, you will regale me with your tales over a warm fire and with a feast of a dozen elk.”
It did not take them long to find the camp, and they quickly hid themselves in the nearby brush as best they could. Daphnae’s russet armor was better suited for this, but Kassandra had an entire life’s worth of experience that allowed her use of the shadows, culminating in the both of them practically disappearing among the scenery.
Phratagoune chose a cave as her camp. It reminded Kassandra of Zoisme, one of the first Cultists she’d hunted, and she shuddered to think of what would happen if frenzied zealots continued to make a habit of training carnivores for the sake of terrorizing the local populace.
“I can see two bears so far.”
“Let me look myself.”
By my eyes, she thought, closing her own. Far above her, Ikaros’s pupils glowed a golden for half of a second before Kassandra could see through his perspective. She could never really explain it, explain how it worked and where the connection had come from― save that Ikaros had been sent by Pythagoras― but she did not disapprove of the boon, and she never would. His vision far surpassed that of an ordinary human, and within a matter of moments, she counted one, two, three, four bears protectively roaming around the camp. And, of course, the Ancient.
“Four.”
“Well… shit.”
“Best thing to do is fire from a distance. We take her out, the bears will panic. They will scatter, and we can split up as we hunt them down.”
“Must we? Perhaps we could tame them and bring them back to Lamia?”
“Daphnae, these have been conditioned to become bloodthirsty killers without reason. Neither the wild, nor man should harbor them. It’s a mercy to end them.”
Her friend gave her a light scoff, but recognized the wisdom in the words regardless. A single black, extraordinarily sharp arrow was knocked to the string of Daphnae’s bow, and she waited for Kassandra to give her the signal.
“Wait.”
“For what?”
“We’re not as close as we should be. Even if we are lucky, and we both hit her in the head from this distance… it won’t be enough..”
Daphnae bit her lip, “We risk being close enough for those bears to tear into us, as is.”
“Nightfall,” the Spartan said, her voice as quiet as possible.
“Oh, you fucking malakas.”
“We’d be able to sneak up better.”
Kassandra turned to see her golden-eyed companion giving her the angriest glare she’d ever seen. Well, perhaps not as angry as when the misthios had fallen off the roof of the temple the day they’d met, but annoyed all the same.
“What about circling around? Attacking from behind?”
“It could work. We risk running into any traps she may have set up.”
“Oh, now you tell me about traps,” Daphnae hissed.
“Phratagoune’s having a meal, she’s not alert. Now would be our shot to move.”
“Fine! Fine! Malakas misthios! Better than waiting for night.”
The camp itself was wedged at the border of the foothills, a dense forest, and rolling fields that led back down to the lake. Kassandra and Daphnae gently snuck their way into the trees, where the dark shadows of the canopy hid them with the favored kiss of Erebus himself. Daphnae, as loud and commanding as she could be, was a leopard when it came to hunting. Or, assassinating, as it were.
They found another patch of brush, now directly above the cave. Phratagoune was still sitting on the rocky cliff, adoringly giving her bears commands. Kassandra almost wondered if the Ancient was insane and merely rambling, but refused to take the situation anything but seriously.
“We’re not going to get a good angle in the brush back here,” Daphnae said.
Her voice was less of a whisper and more a mere breath, exhaled with a touch of anxious caution. Daphnae was being so quiet, in fact, that her face was practically resting on Kassandra’s shoulder, that the misthios could hear her. Once again, arrows were knocked to strings.
“I’m going to quickly go in for a headshot. You need to make sure the bears don’t charge me, and we’ll fall back to higher ground if needed,” Kassandra murmured in response.
Daphnae did not say anything, but she did not need to. The way her cheeks shifted into a smirk and her golden eyes twinkled told Kassandra that she was ready, thrilled even, for the hunt. Ikaros soared down towards the lake from their position, providing something for their prey to glance at.
Phratagoune was enjoying a delightful wine from the island of Kos when she saw the bird. Nothing out of the ordinary― plenty of eagles lived in these mountains, some scavengers and others proper hunters. Were that the thing were injured, she would heal it and teach it how to hunt people. How to not only deliver the message of the Order upon those who did not obey, but to spread fear through the rightfully powerful force that was nature. Funny, training an eagle… she would be like that woman that Pactyas had mentioned. W―
The arrow hit her perfectly in the back of the head. Kassandra could feel her spear glowing golden, as she’d tapped into its power for a shot that would certainly end the woman’s life in one fell stroke.
A nearby bear rose its head in response, sniffing the air and unsure of what to do upon the death of its human ally. Another arrow flew out from the bushes, into its eye, and it stumbled. Then another arrow.
One by one, each of the bears were disposed of. Respectful, clean kills. Kassandra couldn’t help but be pleased with herself; she fucking hated fighting bears.
While Daphnae began working on the pelts (letting out a long, loud whistle that echoed down the valley to signal her followers), Kassandra took an extra moment to make sure the Order member was dead. She did this with every Cultist kill; an extra stab in the heart just to make sure. One mustn’t take chances.
“That was too many bears,” Daphnae muttered, leaping down from the rocks above the cave and peering inside.
Kassandra gently slipped the parchment she’d found tucked in one of Phratagoune’s satchels. It’d become a habit to recover any and all documents she could from these conspirators. One clue or another would always lead to the next malakas. But she would not drag Daphnae into this fight any further than she had. Having the aid of the Daughters of Artemis meant that the Persians would catch on to the Eagle Bearer’s involvement as quickly. That did not mean she wished to put the faction in danger.
She gestured towards the slain predators;
“You’re welcome to what you can carry.”
“Oh, I am taking all of this back to Lamia.”
“Is that so?”
Daphnae gave her a coy grin. Kassandra had the feeling that, though it had not been said aloud, there were far more hunters in the woods than she’d been led to believe.
“You needed not escort me to Amphipolis.”
“I was worried you would get lost without me!”
Though her friend was behind her, Kassandra could still feel a smile being shown. They were having fun... such a foreign concept for the misthios, at this point. Reminded her of the antics Phoibe and Markos would get up to. Daphnae’s horse was spurred enough that it might trot parallel to Phobos, and the misthios caught another glimpse of the mount. Stolen. Definitely stolen.
“You’re a bad priestess.”
“Oh?”
“That’s a Spartan branding on its left flank, beneath the blanket you so casually threw atop its back.”
“And?”
“You’re not Spartan, Daphnae.”
“What the Strategos doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He shouldn’t have set a camp up so close to one of our most sacred sites.”
“You mean the ruined temple near Myson Cave?”
“Yes. How do you know of it?”
The misthios shot a grin right back at her friend, “May have robbed it.”
“Beast Slayer!”
“I didn’t kill anyone!”
But Daphnae had seemingly dropped the conversation, and slowed her horse to a mere walk. Kassandra followed suit, tracking the direction of the priestess’ gaze out towards the water. A ship, larger than any typical merchant craft she’d seen, was docked at the harbor. Beautiful turquoise sails were neatly rolled up and tied to prevent damage. A uniformed crew, not donning any armor but wearing matching tunics to indicate their station, carried cargo back and forth as they brought goods to and from the ship for trade. A captain spoke with a group of civilians, clearly passengers awaiting transport.
Strange, to see a vessel that size this far north. Odder still, to see something of such splendor against the decrepit, unfinished docks of Amphipolis.
“Is that Persian?” the misthios quietly asked.
Though her parents had given her a decent enough education, with methods of recognizing the emblems of various nations and empires, she could never be certain.
“No. I’ve seen that ship many times. Known as Antochí tou Achilléa, quite often it passes by Chois and docks at Lesbos. Typically, it does not come this far west, though on occasion I’ve seen it head towards Athens. It does voyage regularly to Persia, yes, but there’s nothing military about it.”
“That does not mean… my enemies are probably aboard. Whether they bring their own daggers, or plan to purchase them from the Spartans.”
From her horse, Daphnae held out her hand. Kassandra grabbed it and felt dexterous, rough fingers give her glove a reassuring squeeze. Almost in unison, the two of them drew up their hoods and moved the horses into the inconspicuous shade of the forest bordering Amphipolis.
“This is where I leave you.”
“Thank you for your help, Daphnae. If any more like her begin to make their way south, if you hear of any unusual activity… write to me. Let me know of conflicts between the Daughters and anyone… new. Strange. Viscous. I hate the notion that the cycle is going to repeat itself, but I want you and your family to stay safe.”
“Eyes of the Forest, as you so affectionately call us. Yes, and I will let you know what I can find out about the Antochí tou Achilléa from my sisters outside Mytilene. And… Kassandra?”
Brown eyes met golden.
“Don’t feel ashamed if you do not complete the Goddess’s Hunt. I know you’ve been through a lot. This… this business far surpasses a trial intended for the young, wide-eyed adventurer you used to be. I’d rather you focus on keeping yourself safe, keeping good innocent people safe, hmm?”
“Fairwell, Daphnae.”
“Fairwell, Beast Slayer.”
In true fashion, the priestess spurred her horse on in a thundering gallop back down the dusty road they’d come from― startling a nearby patrol of Spartans. Kassandra grinned and gently walked Phobos to a nearby stable, where, for a small fee, he could be taken care of for a few nights.
The city of Amphipolis, while small, was grand in its own way. The beginnings of an empire, indeed. Beautiful marble steps led up towards the temple to Asklepios, guarded by lion statues on either side of the thoroughfare. Politicians and diplomats argued back and forth in front of freshwater marble basins, their reflections rippling against the glimmering surface. It was obvious that she stood out like a sore thumb, with her longbow, spear, and sword. She gave a tilt of her head, indicating to Ikaros that he ought to watch from the nearby trees instead of flying around. It would do well to act inconspicuous.
A glance out towards the beach was all she needed to feel her own heart sink. Beloved Brasidas. If only she’d been better, acted faster, fight with the same intensity as her cursed brother. Perhaps she could have saved her friend.
“I will see you again, one day, and gladly spar with you in the fields of Elysium. Or perhaps, as I do now, I shall watch from a distance as you spend eternity in a glorious battleground among heroes of old. But, even if I could never join you, I know you will walk those blessed golden fields,” Kassandra whispered.
It was the same prayer her mother had once whispered to Lionedas, when he’d been rightfully buried in Sparta.
She closed her eyes.
Let the sun gently warm her face.
A moment.
The warning cry came from Ikaros in the trees. Not enough to startle every citizen in the city, but loud enough that it got her attention. He spotted something. Kassandra looked around, her hand lightly hovering over her blade, before her weary, experienced eyes settled on a familiar face. What struck her as odd was that this face did not match her clothes, and certainly not her hair. Gone was the extravagant peplos and engraved golden jewelry, gone was the elaborate hairstyle. Instead, the Ghost of Kosmos only wore a gray tunic and a black cape, her hair braided back in a simple style― perfectly blending in with the poorer citizens of Amphipolis.
“Malaka. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”