Chapter 35

Astraea wandered the wilds before returning to Thanatos's mansion. She walked empty corridors. She lingered in his study where he passed most of the day, and most of the night. Thanatos was never so engrossed in his work, however, so as to be unable to make time for her. She smiled forlornly while running her fingers over the spines of his great leather bound books, yes, she sighed, he was dead.

The sorceress rid herself of her rain sodden garments, and put on a diaphanous nightgown. She had tattered hair, and dirt on her cheeks. Her red, teary eyes centred on something: the book of swords that Thanatos had dropped when the demons pronounced their evil either/or. Astraea wondered what had happened there. He was always so secretive.

Astraea collapsed into his armchair considering why he'd taken his own life. She thought for hours - unable to sleep. The thought of the tete-a-tete meeting hovered before her mind's eye: perhaps it was either him or her, and he'd chosen him. She felt a churning in her stomach when the realisation came over her. Thanatos had killed himself so that she may be spared - that must be it.

Falling back into the chair, Astraea's mind turned to Eros, who, knowing that she had betrayed him, couldn't kill her either. She sobbed before the fire. Eros and Thanatos, the two men she cared for, were gone. Crying herself to sleep, she couldn't escape the self-loathing she felt.

***

Astraea was in a grand chamber of luxurious dressings. The hour was late, but men in their illustrious robes spoke to one another precipitously. Advisors and foot servants ran here and there carrying missives while grand maps lay spread across tables.

"I'm dreaming of Arethusa again," Astraea thought.

The chief council member spoke; the meeting was convened. During the meeting many ministers voiced their opinions, and detailed courses of action that they felt ought to be taken. No minister gained ascendancy in the debate until one highly respected political heavyweight rose to speak. His name was Markus.

"My fellow ministers, war has consumed this land. We have all read the reports: nations are not being conquered, but annihilated. Diplomacy has failed; nations form alliances and then break them at the opportune moment. There is no longer any trust left. The world has become unstable."

The other ministers nodded, pain etched on their faces.

"I propose that we stay out of this. Let us set ourselves apart, remain neutral and hoard our strength. If war should come to us, we shall have the power to repel that attack. Any battle that would be fought would be on our doorstep, on our land, on our terms. We should not seek out any enemy, but wait. Patience is our main weapon."

While the elderly and worn ministers conferred, Markus seated himself.

The chief minister moved to call a vote when a terrified woman rose to speak - it was Arethusa.

"Honourable gentleman--"

"Arethusa you are well respected, but your years and consequently your wisdom are limited. Please do not risk embarrassing yourself in this time of great war," the chairman spoke in a manner that can only be described as patronising.

A smile broke across Arethusa's face, "I appreciate my learned friend's counsel, but in spite of it, I will speak."

The chairman merely flicked his wrist, beckoning for Arethusa to hurry up with it.

"My esteemed colleagues it is not a question of if, but when war will come. Merely retreating behind our walls will not suffice. We are surrounded on four sides. We are known for the strength we possess, and assuredly our enemies will unite in defeating us first before they turn on each other. We are a target. My learned friend Markus wishes us to fight on our own ground, but that would be to bring war down upon our loved ones. Our families would be sleeping on the battlefield."

"And what do you propose we do?" Said one.

"Our only hope lies in a pre-emptive strike."

The council erupted, "Pah."

"Rubbish."

Markus sneered, "You will bring about our end."

Arethusa beckoned for her foot servant to bring something forth. The servant hastily advanced bearing a great scroll, and handed it to her bowing. She unfastened the ribbon and placed the grand parchment upon the council table for all to see.

The map had, in Arethusa's hand, notations all over, which revealed enemy armies, their location, units and number.

"Based on the information our scouts have brought us, these are the locations and the strength of our closest enemies. It can only be an estimation, but it's all we have. If we strike here and here," Arethusa pointed to the locations on the map, "We can break Tartarus. With them gone, there is a hole in their allies lines. A hole through which we can separate their combined strength, isolate, and destroy them.

This would then give us a foundation from which we can invade Damascus, and the Kingdom of Nartha. Soon we would occupy much of the western nations.

As far as the east is concerned, our reports indicate that they are destroying one another but that under the leadership of Sorceress Nala, Ithaca is gaining the ascendency. Be that so, with the west conquered we will be ready to meet her armies."

The council was silent while Astraea marveled at the woman she had come to know through her dreams.

The chief minister asked, "General Brachus, military stratagem is your auspice. What say you?"

"Sir," the veteran soldier said, "I agree with Arethusa. If we sit back and hoard our strength, as Markus suggests, our enemies would unite and overwhelm us. I too believe that only a pre-emptive strike will avail us any hope of victory." He looked across at Arethusa. "Her plan is a fine one."

Markus turned in his seat, a vote was called and Arethusa's plan was adopted.

The world around Astraea blurred and faded from view. She was in a vacuum, a ship without a rudder sailing through time. She didn't like it, feeling so lost, and was glad when she was pulled back. There was a snap as she landed in yet another of these paranormal scenes.

Astraea was on horseback at the walls of her city. Arethusa looked around her. The army stretched along the main highway, as far as the eye could see. Young and old lined the streets crying. Each endeavoured to reach their loved ones ears with words of goodbye, and good luck. They were evidently going to war.

Arethusa looked to her family at her side. Her father held her mother tightly, who wept.

Priya said, "I wish you would have allowed me to fight alongside you."

Their mother looked up in horror, Astraea felt Arethusa's resolve. "I am doing this to keep you safe, to keep you all safe," she looked long and hard at her sister. "I could never place you in such peril."

"Take care, you hear," her father said. The two exchanged a look before the columns departed for battle, funneling out of the colossal stone walls.

Again the vision blurred out and then back in. It felt to Astraea that the dreams were becoming more and more unstable, as if some connection was weakening. But as her consciousness felt free, it was seized again, and her surroundings became sharp.

Astraea looked around, endeavouring to familiarise herself with her new environment. She stood within a tent that bore all the luxuries we might suppose the great Roman emperors were accustomed to on military campaigns. The transformation in the woman she was compelled to follow was marked: no longer in her civilian robes, but instead she was ready for combat. Her lower body couldn't be seen, a long black cloth somewhere between a robe, and a long skirt covered it. She wore a fine chestplate; the alloy was tough, but light as a feather. Upon the silver plate was carved a great dragon engaged in combat with a beautiful woman. The fight scene there depicted had been so elsewhere in great works of art that resided in the very finest residences across the land. It was the fabled duel between the fire dragon, and the mightiest sorceress that ever lived, the magnificent Sorceress Baobahn Sith.

Arethusa bore few trinkets upon her wrist and fingers. Astraea hazarded a guess that she had seen little of battle, and had not the magically endowed rings, bangles and bracelets that conferred great advantages upon the wearer like her more experienced brethren. She had no tiara's, earrings either for that matter, but she did wear a simple necklace that contained a solitary red stone. Her lower arms were naked; the mark of the sorceress clearly visible - a warning to any who faced her on the battlefield.

A tall strong man entered the tent wearing golden armour. The sword sheathed at his side had a magnificent pommel.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked in a low voice.

"I'm going into battle."

Astraea could feel her heart beat. This is what she admired most, what made Arethusa great in her mind was not that she was intrepid, on the contrary she seemed to be forever afraid; it was that in spite of fear she still did what was necessary. Forever fighting her fear, and conquering it.

The man said, "No you're not. You're much too precious to be risked."

"All the other nations deploy their sorceresses into battle - why not ours?"

"It's not just your magical competence. I mean to say," the soldier hesitated and appeared to utter the next words with difficulty, "I mean to say, we need your stratagem too."

"General Svarogu, I have the greatest respect for you, and with or without me you will lead these men on an illustrious campaign. I know this. But I am your strongest fighter. I will not sit back, and command men from afar. I will not entrust the lives of my family to those soldiers for I alone reserve that right. I have no desire to die soon, and woe to any man that confronts me on the battlefield."

It was evident from the general's reaction that he knew he couldn't dissuade Arethusa. He'd encountered that stubbornness and determination, which had won the great politicians over during the council's emergency meeting a few night's hence, many times before.

"Tartarus camp beyond the ridge; they will not suspect this attack." The general realised that if he could not stop Arethusa, he could at least help her. "Just get back here safe, you hear. We need you to survive this."

Arethusa smiled, touched the great general on the shoulder, and disappeared out of the entrance to the tent.

The night sky was utterly dark. Arethusa espied the shadowy mass of her army on the hillside. She went over, turned to face the men, and, being unable to raise her voice for fear of being overheard by the enemy, spoke gently into the night.

"The world is consumed by war. If you fail in your task, your country and loved ones will die. We can stop that from happening. It starts tonight. We ride to that encampment, and we kill its inhabitants without remorse, for it is either them or us, and my brothers it most certainly will not be us."

Astraea felt Arethusa turn to where the enemy lay camped. Taking the helm, she led the charge into battle. Arethusa didn't turn, and so Astraea couldn't see what was behind. Unbeknown to her, there rode the armies of Arcadia sweeping like a wave of death down the hill to the enemy bivouac below.

The battle was bloody but brief. Before the inhabitants had realised that they were under attack, they were slain. The black sky was illuminated not by stars, but by bolts of lightning, of flames, and icy bolts. Great beasts fought alongside their masters - blood stained the earth.

Astraea had meanwhile followed Arethusa in the battle, as she must. She came directly to the enemy king's tent. The Tartarus royal guard surrounded their king. They shouted in a foreign tongue, and advanced upon Astraea, who was alone. The sorceress fingered the stone upon her necklace, pausing before she unleashed a fire spell the world had never before seen. Astraea recognised it instantly because it was the same fire that Thanatos had used in the Temple of Kafka. Arethusa was the sorceress who had crafted the stones.

***

Astraea awoke in Thanatos's favourite armchair. The fire had almost gone out, the room was dark. "If only you were still here," she thought, "You would be able to figure this out."

Astraea didn't know that Thanatos already had.