Leo IV

'We seemed to be lost. My guides swore that this is the way but we've been walking for three days straight and not a sight of the ruins. Maybe they mean to have me lost and then mug me? I better they don't. I don't want to be their slayers.'

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A gentle bump jarred him into waking. The creaks of grease-deprived hinges were sharp to his ears.

Leo opened his eyes. The sky was azure, cast above like a carpet. Fluffs of supple clouds littered above, flowing into distances unknown. Scents of fleeing winter wind enchanted him into remembrance of past memories akin.

Peace. It was peace. Goodness too but mostly peace- a tranquil warmth embracing him into curving a smile.

"The venom's gotten his sanity." There was this voice. It was coarse like a sand rubbing against a galley's keel and low as if humbled by the Omniscient himself.

"But the antidote is properly brewed. Perhaps he has feeble grip on his mind even before the serpent's kiss."

Another voice. Sonorous this time, passable as a bard. The accent was thick southern, a song with each word.

A face popped from nowhere, looking down with a craggy mien. His round cheeks reddened to fat and so did his neck. Long depleting hair sprouted from his shiny head- fragile as if a single gust would blew him into baldness.

"You awake lad? Been slumbering like a log for days."

Leo blinked a few times. His hazy vision sorted clarity. He was cooped in an iron cage. Other captives joined his plight, also in rusted cages lined in the wagon's open back. The wretched things sank in slumps, their faces smudged with despair. Some regarded him with curious glances. Others maintained nonchalance.

Leo jolted. His forehead butted the cage. The pain was immediate, the dizziness not long after.

"Easy lad." The balding plump face chuckled. It turned into a crispy cough and a spit after. "Venom's still in your flesh. Might be best for you to calm."

"Where am I?" Leo pressed the back of his palm against his forehead. Thankfully he wasn't bleeding from that ugly butt.

"In our care, worry not." Another voice tackled his question. The sonorous one. The owner was a lanky bloke armored with an unimpressive shoddy gambeson. He carried a bamboo spear tipped with iron. Even his hold was wrong, too loose according to Abraham's teachings to Leo.

The constraints bit against Leo's wrist, braided rope tangled tight. His clothes remained and so did his dagger. His trouser was torn where the snake bit him though. Two pinkish punctures served as evidence of the mishap but the swelling had eased.

"Bamboo viper" The lanky one said. He walked with the wagon's pull, sun golden on his tanned skin. "Breeze your worry away. I have forced boiled basilisk root down your throat. You'll live. For the next moon, anyway."

"For the next moon?"

"Aye. It's Bamboo viper lad. Venom's not leaving you alone. Basilisk root juice only keeps it slumbering. You need a constant sip of antidote every moon."

Leo shuffled in his cage, chest heavy and sweat skidding down his temple. He looked down to the passing pebbles sprinkled in the orange sand. He would die. Without Basilisk Root he would die.

He mustn't die. He aimed living and returning home. He would be forgotten here, stiff corpse under the fine sand. What of his mother? She would weep. No, she would break. They wouldn't know what happened to him, trapped in between hope and despair.

"Return me home" Leo said. "My father would make you nobles. Both of you."

"Where?" the one with the scant hair asked.

"The Union. Holm. I am Leo. My father is Timothy Castonia and my mother is Lucia Vanadis."

"Damn" The lanky man looked at his partner. "Maybe the venom's gotten his sanity after all."

"Aye." The baldy grinned full as he derided Leo with a look. "You almost got us with that tale you made about blisters wit pus. Aye, I was scared thrilling. But we ain't listening now. And you better find a less needy tale other than being the prince of them Union."

"You are indeed of a pretty face. Prettier than all the harlots I've rented." The other one said. "They say King Timothy's face is pretty second only to his queen. But I'll be pissing gold first before I'll be drawn to your tale being their son. Heir of the Union out here? And you? Piss me some timbers lad that's rich!"

"It is true! My mother will flood you gold if you bring me home. Piss some gold? You'll be bathing on it your entire life. Wipe your arse with it, sleep with it. You'll grow tired of looking at your treasures."

"His words are greasy. Be careful Lopet" The baldy said.

"Aye. Too greasy. You have a gift of mouth lad. But just quit it alright? We can't bring you to the Union lands anyway. Too far away." The one named Lopet said.

"Where am I anyway?"

"Guess"

"Dandaria?"

Lopet chuckled. "Haven't heard that name since that quirky scholar dragged me into his enclave. No, lad. Dandaria is a ghost. Dead. Broken into parts like goat turds." He paused and breathed a deep one. "We are in the fine land of Chief Regrat."

Chief Regrat. Hearing that name forced a gulp down his arid throat.

"Chief Regrat is a savage creature." Leo remembered his father saying. "A beast. If we were not held by the Ninevans I would have sent a punitive expedition to punish his crimes."

"Calm down." His mother said that time. "We shouldn't meddle where we can't meddle."

"Those fighting pits are cruel, Lucia. People killing each other for what? A few laughs and wagers?"

It made sense now. Slaves. He and the other captives were slaves for the fighting pits. He eyed the two.

"You are selling me to the Chief?"

"Sell?" Lopet spitted, thick phlegm clinging to the sand. "He pays us a pittance if you can call that sell. No lad. I think employ is the word."

"He exaggerates. We do get commissions." The plump baldy said.

Leo grimaced. It was bleak. Although he was trained by Abraham, there must fiercer fighters than him in the pits. It would only take a pinch of bad matching for him to face his murderer.

"I can make you money. I am literate and of a sharp mind. Giving me to the Chief is a mistake." He gestured to the balding one. "What is your name friend?"

"Lacrazigus. But everyone calls me Gus."

"Well I can see how that is less taxing to the tongue." He smiled. "So Gus and Lopet. Now friends, we will speak with the Chief yes?"

"We will report to him. But as for you..." Gus squinted to him and shook his head.

"That is why you need to ensure that I'll have an audience. I'll speak with the chief. I'll be short, I promise. And I will never forget the aid you provided me."

The look on their faces betrayed disbelief. Lopet was curving his thick eyebrows into a frown.

"I know this will cost you your commissions." Leo continued. "But it is a pittance as what you told me. Take a leap of faith sometimes. What is a little commission compared to my friendship? I know, I should be grateful to you for giving me that Basilisk root antidote. Must have costed you a lot. And thank you also for not taking my belongings. But I must ask you for this one last favor friends."

"The chief wouldn't hear you lad," said Gus. "Sadly" he shrugged. "You are unmarked. He hates unmarked people."

"Unmarked? Then give me a mark."

"And have our heads chopped? We ain't risking it. We don't know anyway." Lopen stretched his gambeson down on his neck. A brand was in there, scarred with some intricate pattern. "Don't be burdened lad. As for your need for basilisk root, I suggest you win matches. Winners earn money. Just have your trainer boil the roots."

It was a sound advice. Win to survive. It was apparently the only way. But Leo wouldn't have it. He will convince the Chief of his use other than entertainment.

They journeyed for the whole day, stopping only either to rest the mules or to relieve their bladders. Gus was adamant against letting captives' piss touch his cages. Adds to ware, he said.

The journey wasn't comfortable. The afternoon was chilly with random gusts biting his thin clothes. There was nothing to see except bamboos and palms bending with the wind's command. He didn't stop bothering Gus and Lopet but the two were closed from dealing with him.

Occasional villages relieved his boredom. The villages here were built differently than those back home. Most were made of bamboos, split and cut into parts. Most roofs were dried palm leaves, dark brown to age. Brick houses were not common and were reserved to high ranking people.

Gus assured his that the capital was different though. The western part of Chief Regrat's land where the capital stood, was rich with mines. Leo wasn't unfamiliar with mining cities. Nirvana, the capital of his father's kingdom and the second largest city in the Union, was a city built on top of gold veins. The gold mines had dried now after decades of exploits but the city still stood with a grandiose allure.

It rained in the evening, a mere drizzle but enough to forgo the fire. The dreaded hard tack was their dinner, a single piece per person. The thing was molded in a solid dome and the size of Leo's palm. The craggy outside seemed a harbinger of dental problems.

Leo dipped the bread in water, hope faint that it would tender. It didn't. The hard tack was adamant as a Castonian. He tried scraping the surface with his front teeth and found the technique just a little better than biting into it.

The meal was miserable, made worse by the silence. The other slaves chewed without sound as if making one would gnash their teeth into breaking. They were docile things, too docile for people about to be thrown into the fighting pits.

Gus and Lopet huddled leaning against the wheel, thin shawl draped on Lopet's shoulder. Pieces of hard tacks lay untouched in their bowls.

"'Hey" Leo banged on his cage. His act drew eyes from around. "How about a song?"

"A song, lad." Gus said. "Is a terrible thing. They draw you in with melodies and let you go dazed by words you do not need. Better be silence, murmurs of the night."

"That ain't true." Lopet said, turning a scowl at Gus. "Songs are marvelous. They are art."

"'Useless art. Worse than them paintings. One of my neighbors in the past, Hayden he was called, used to sing this song. Forgot the words though the tune still torments me to this day. He sang and sang and sang, voice rubbing like steel against stone. I threw several rocks at his window. He just sang some more. When the war came, Hayden was levied thank the gods. I bet he was stabbed at least once for singing."

"You deprived of good songs then." Lopet said. "I'd be singing in the past. Sang them songs high and sang them true. Nothing is better than a cup of heated wine and some good songs."

"'You were a bard?" Leo asked.

"Aye. A travelling one. When Dandaria was still whole, before that damn emperor died without an heir, I was a bard. Nobles favored my voice, too pleasant they say."

"Then sing us a song."

"I'd better he not." Gus said. "Songs are dumb things."

"You poor thing. Hating songs is hating life." Lopet patted Gus' back. "I'll sing the lad a song. This one's called Crown of Smoke."

There was a short silence as Lopet shifted his position. The tall man looked up and the verses of a soft song followed.

'He is the one, doubts be thrown

though severed their paths came be.

Her hand he held, wind against gown

To a distant land he led.

Crown on her head, puff of smoke

His warmth she sought more than it.

A princess, title undone.

A commoner, mattered not.

For she loved him, yes she did

Crown on her head, puff of smoke

Puff of smoke, 'twas puff of smoke

Crown on her head, puff of smoke.

Their mount trotted against cobbles

To destination unknown

Palace behind, crown of smoke

She chose, path of love, she chose'

Leo clapped fast. He looked to the other slaves, enticing them to credit Lopet's song. Some did join him, that cautious youth with a scrawny face and the burly man with thick skull.

"'So Gus sire, how was that?" Leo asked.

Gus nodded but kept presenting indifference. "Not too terrible. Better than Hayden's."

"Aye I'm better." Lopet grinned. "Ladies loves that song. Men too, Ardents but yeah. The tale of Princess Denise and his soldier lover. People shed tears on that song."

"People are stupid then. Tears for a song. As if tears can change things." Gus said.

"You'll be surprised friend." Lopet jerked a single nod at Leo. "Your turn lad. Sing us a song from wherever you are from."

Leo stretched his legs, pushing the cage with his feet. He leaned on one side, pillowed his arms and yawned. "What about Morning Crow?"

"Northerner song. Aye. About the Rooster, King Timothy's men." Lopet said. "Heard that one from a Castonian sailor in one of those diplomatic galleys they send."

"This is my father's favorite among the songs about the Rooster. Does their courage justice he said."

"Still holding to that tale aye?" Gus said. "Well go on. I think I can go for another song without stabbing someone."

'Marching high, marching low

We are thunder, death to our foe.

For the King we crow, for the King we kill.

For the King we die, for the King we stand.

A hundred thousand men we face

Hundred thousand repelled.

Gone by our spears, shattered by our mace

Rooster's crow, terrible terrible rooster's crow.

For the King we crow, for the King we kill.

For the King we die, for the King we stand.

Blood in our hands, wounds in our flesh.

Widows in our wives, orphans in our babes.

Yet in the field we stand, awaiting King's command.

Banner high, spears still, we stand as one.

For the King we crow, for the King we kill.

For the King we die, for the King we stand.

For the King we crow, for the King we kill.

For the King we die, for the King we stand.'

Leo finished the song in a confident smile. His voice cracked several times during the performance and yet his crestfallen audience didn't notice.

"How was that?"

"Bloody awful" Gus grinned. "But I'm not stabbing you for that. You really are from the north."

"Of course. I am a Castonian."

"Pardon me sir" One of the slaves struggled nearing to him. This one was youth with a narrow face and large eyes. "You are a Castonian?"

"I am. Though I am half Vanadian through my mother's side. But that doesn't matter much, does it? Vanadis and Castonia are as good as one."

"And so we heard" Lopet rose and slumped forward against Leo's cage. "Castonia and Vanadis united and most northern nations are their vassals. Good for you northerners. Unite as one while we here in the south crumble into fighting every single small dispute."

"Aye" Gus added. "I remember lad. Fresh on me memories like daisy blooming. Once all of the south is united under the empire. Now we are like eggshells shattered and tossed. Must be good up north eh? Tell us about the north. How this Union works."

Leo looked at the youth. Though leery as he looked around, those dark eyes were full of curiosity. The other slaves, those five at the back and three near him, also examined Leo with prying looks.

It must be an intriguing topic for them. Castonia and Vanadis, Tulosa, Wismar, Hadea, Inkit and the lands Leo was familiar with were all legends to them. The south was broken while the north stood strong, even defending against the Ninevans. They were a broken people and to that he could only feel pity.

"It is indeed good. I've been telling you that I am Leo, the son of King Timothy and Queen Lucia but it seems my words were marked as lies in your heads. But still, believe me or not, I will speak as Prince Leo." The sticky looks of a dozen set of curious eyes fell on him. "My father is the King of his own Kingdom, Castonia and my mother is the Queen of her own Kingdom, Vanadis. They united under the oath of marriage and I am to inherit the crowns of both kingdoms. Together, Castonia and Vanadis forms a nation called the Union. Now the Union has several vassals- Tulosa, Canton, Hadea, the Republic of Inkit, Wismar, Borondi, Hanome, Avelon, Lutan and Vintos."

"That many?" The curious youth was wide-eyed. "That's all of the northern nations!"

"Not all. There were a few stubborn nations who chose not to be included. Calgari, for example, is a Kingdom stubborn to the core. They have been nonchalant to the attack of the Ninevans. They just don't care. And there were those like Levan which sided with the Ninevans instead. Traitors all of them. They would rather submit to the enemies rather than help their fellow humans."

"So these Ninevans," a man from the back said. "They are like sorcerers?"

"I think they are sorcerers. Only united under a single nation." Lopet said.

Sorcerers. So it is true, Leo thought. There had been rumors that a few Ninevans roamed the south. Deserters, mostly, from the ranks of the Ninevans. Some had established themselves as people of importance in the remnants of the Dandarian Empire.

"I know a sorcerer" Lopet declared with an air of pride. "Though he is a bit strange, he is indeed a sorcerer. He can produce flame with the flick of his arm."

"Flamegift" Leo raised a finger. "One of the common gifts among the Ninevans. They are dangerous. Even a brave man would turn into a charred brave man when burned."

The scaredy youth raised his hand. "I... I think the Chief Geneviv is also a sorcerer."

"Indeed." Leo said. "My mother has constant discourse with Chief Geneviv. He is an ally though a little reluctant in mingling with the Union. If my memory serves, I think Geneviv is a Dreamweaver. Ah that's an impressive gift. Dreamweaving. Their dust could fetch a high price in the right market."

Gus rose and joined Lopet beside Leo's cage. The balding man tapped his finger on the iron bar. "I have a question. This may seem prying but I need to know." He leaned closer. "Is it true? Holm, the capital of the Union. Distant rumors say that it is coated in gold. Everything. Gold. That's too rich!"

Leo snorted a laugh. He tried to suppress yet it defeated him. So that was what they think of Holm. "First of all, gold is not the only basis of wealth. It is shiny and nice but it is simply a pretty thing in the end. We use it for money but my mother is already thinking about switching to other currencies. Gold's too dangerous, she said. Too fragile. Honestly I don't understand her. And to answer your query friend, no. Holm is not coated in gold. We have the greatest harbor in the world. Universities expanding the realms of human knowledge. We have scholars, philosophers, thinkers. Holm is the center of the world, the center of education and development and the seat of power of King Timothy and Queen Lucia. Now that is wealth friend. Wealth more than gold could ever gift."

Lopet pushed Gus aside. "And music too? It is, as you said, the center of the world. They have music right? Bards? Harpists? Composers?"

Leo chuckled. "Yes! Canton was once the nation of songs. But for the past years, musicians have been welcomed in Holm. The city never slumbers. Night was but a phase. You can walk all night, lit lamps illuminating your way and music pleasing your ears. The ladies are great too. Beauties beyond words. And the palace. You should see the palace. It is a chunk in the middle of the city, walls too intricate for praises. Ten stories tall, it is marvel of engineering. The garden spans like an ocean. It is almost a forest if you ask me. It is the grandest building ever built. Oh I miss it so much. I long for it."

"Then why did you leave?" The youth asked.

Leo's wide smile retreated to that question. Why did he leave? It was more than a question, it was castigation. He had the best life in the world. A prince, supposed to inherit both kingdoms. He lived in the best city and the grandest palace. Youths by the millions were envious of him. Why did he leave?

Why? Because he though he could match his parents' achievements. Because he longed for the thrill of adventure. Basically because he was an idiot.

"Because I was bored."

They asked several more questions after that. Some questions felt like interrogation. Gus' interest in the treasury seemed to be unchanged and Lopet sang them another song before sleeping.

Leo shut his eyes, embracing sleep fully. The wind was biting and the cage was cold. His stomach revolted. He was a slave, one who was being sent into the fighting pits for Chief Regrat's pleasure. The venom still dwelt in his veins. But under the dark sky of Dandaria he found peace. Inside the cold rickety cage, he found solace. He will go home. Soon he will. And so he dreamed of stepping down from the galley, his boots touching the stone dock of Holm. It was a distant dream, almost impossible. But it was all he had for now.

They resumed carting through the road the next day. Breakfast was forwent. Leo's stomach still ached. His body was stiff and his head was hurting despite not drinking last night. Perhaps that was the cause. His tongue longed for mead.

It was midday when a brown structure presented to the front. The road suddenly swelled. Mule-heaved carts and people on foot joined their approach to the city.

"Legson" Gus said. "Ain't it beautiful? It is not Holm but it is the best we have."

It was indeed pleasant. The walls were of mud bricks, parapets standing proud and towers presenting might. A river ran beside the city from the south and was feeding the moat. To the east were ragged hills, topped with brown grasses. The north was a plain of sand extending the horizon.

The west though, was a different sight. White scars in the land- dug- some deep while some not so. There were dozens of such things. Some were larger than the city itself.

"The quarries." Leo said, nodding. "Marble?"

"Aye. Marble. Legson thrives on the stuff. The fighting pits too is once a marble quarry." Gus said.

"How kind of you to remind me of my bitter fate."

"Well, fighting in the pits will not be your fate if your tongue is as golden as it was last night." Lopet said. He went closer to Leo. "The baldy and I have talked lad. Your tale of being Prince Leo of the Union is still needy to believe. But we will give you the chance. An audience with the Chief."

Leo was already grinning even before Lopet finished. An audience. Yes. It was what he needed the most. With the right words he could sway the Chief into giving him freedom and even passage back to Holm.

"Thank you. Truly friends, I will not forget this kindness."

"Make it certain that you don't" Gus said. "You owe us lad."

"Yes. I owe you. But for me to repay your kindness, I first need to convince the Chief. Tell me about him. Everything that you know. Every detail. I will tailor my words to his character."

It took the two a long time to respond. They eyed each other and both sighed.

"Bastard" Lopet said. "The Chief is a bastard."

"Aye" Gus grimaced.

Leo waited for more, descriptions which would provide a clearer picture of the person he would convince. But the two seemed to agree with bastard as the only word needed.

Bastard, Leo thought. Well I'll be dammed.

They pulled through the streets of Legson not long after. Narrow alleys and smutted streets plagued the city. Beggars with broken eyes and open palms cowered on the sidewalk, faces with shattered hopes. Large men bearing large weapons strutted with an air of superior mien. Hollow, Leo thought. They were large and they were terrifying to look at but their walks and they way they carry weapons were not of a seasoned warrior's way. Mercenaries was Leo's first thought. He smiled. No, fighters in the fighting pits.

"It is the hammer season." The scaredy youth said from one cage away. "The Chief celebrates by having a feast of fighting. A moon it would last."

"A moon of laughing while we fight to our death. This Chief of yours is a sweet man." Leo smiled.

"He is not my Chief. Not one of us caged people would hail him as our chief."

"'Well he is now."

"Never!" The youth reddened. His thin arms clenched.

Leo was a bit surprised by that anger. It blazed like Vanadian Fire. The youth's mellow face turned into a contorted rage in an instant. Leo put his palm on the cage gently.

"It is alright friend. Yes he is not your chief."

The youth looked down and bit his lips. Leo thought that the outburst was the end of it, that this youth would remain silent and defeated until they reach the fighting pits. But the youth opened his mouth, stutters came pouring first.

"He is a bastard sir." The youth looked at Gus and Lopet. "They are not mistaken. Chief Regrat is a bastard, pardon my words. He is a madman."

"A madman with an army and a crown. The most dangerous of madmen."

"Yes. And he uses that power to oppress us. We are Khirbali sir." He looked at Leo. "Khirbali. Natives of this land. This is ours, before the quarries and the mines this land was ours. Now it is his. The theft had gone unpunished. That is alright. We are a kind people. But he aims to mark us too with that bond. Those ugly marks in their necks. That, we can't let sir. The Gods will be furious when one marks his or her own skin. We envy you northerners. You have such great monarchs. We here in the south don't have much except fighting and warring and death."

This time, it was Leo's turn to be silent. And it lasted until they reached the fighting pits.

They were sorted upon arrival. Chains in their hands and guards' spear poking their sides, they were led to the pit.

It was indeed a dead quarry. The earth had been dug, exposing white rocks beneath. A carved stair spiraled to the bottom where a flat surface awaited. A special stair crossed straight from the top to the bottom, splitting the quarry like a scar.

Guards awaited with spears ready. There were hundreds of them and all in plated mail armor. On one side a large gazebo stood. The cloth roof fluttered in the dusty breeze. The flag flown through a metal pole was that of two red axes crossed above the sun.

They proceeded to the gazebo, chains linked together. Gus and Lopet stayed near to him though the addition guards made contact impossible.

They were lined, sun's scorch burning their heads. Guards stood behind them while an aged man in brown coat walked to their front. His steps were slow and his scrutiny to their faces was severe. He would grab each man's chin, tilt it left and right, and scowl.

He grabbed Leo's chin too. The grip was strong and careless. They met eyes. Those brown things looking back at him were without warmth, arid and barren like the dusty ground. The man's skull was thick beneath his brown skin. His jaw was robust, presenting a trimmed beard.

"This one's probably more than a fighter sir." Lopet braved nearing to them. "He claims to be Leo, heir to the Union. He wishes to speak with the Chief."

"Heir of the northerners and a slave. The claim is weak, I'll have none of it."

"But it is possible sir." Gus said. "Look at his face. Pretty eyes and hair. The tales talk of King Timothy having such. We believe his words to be the truth. He is King Timothy's son."

The stern man looked back to Lopen and Gus. "King Timothy is it? I said I'll have none of it."

He let go of Leo's chin and began walking to the next slave.

"I am Leo" Leo shouted. "Take one more step and I'll have your feet cut off."

The man stopped to that. Lopet and Gus chided him with scowls and head shakes.

The man turned around, facing Leo with the same unconcerned look. "Your tongue. Sharp. I'll have it dulled with a knife."

"Do that and my father would sail from Holm to here with a thousand warships. He will decimate every living being. Take me to the chief. Do it quick. Taxing my patience is never a good idea."

He frowned, deep as a merchant's lies. But it worked. Leo knew the type. Stern men only respond to stern words. He had known a few back home, veterans mostly.

"You know the risks" Leo said, voice cold as sea in winter. "Oh you are thinking about it now. What if I'm right? What if I am indeed Prince Leo of the Union? The evidences are scattered, the truth hazy. But what if? The repercussions would be severe. You heard tales about my father. Never lost a battle. His command is absolute. And my mother. You fear her more than my father. This is not something you can ignore uh, what is your name?"

As expected he didn't respond and just glared. Leo turned to the shuddering Lopet. "What is his name?"

"Grand Enforcer Balin" Lopet said. "Lad..."

"I'll call him Balin then." Leo showed a smile. "Now Balin, get me an audience with the chief now."

Enforcer Balin kept his stare. It felt like a whole year before he made the slightest of gestures to one of the guards.

"Bring this one to the tent."

"But sir..."

"Now soldier. Do not test me. I say bring him inside."

It worked. Leo survived the first obstacle. Now he only needed to talk with the Chief Regrat, showing respect of course. Based on what he heard about the Chief, Leo thought of promises of good fortune as the best way to haggle his return.

He, Lopet and Gus were all escorted into the gazebo. The guard was pushing him into stumbles. They seemed not pleased with his act. The stern Balin, too, looked like a placid lake with his expression.

It wasn't difficult to spot the Chief. Regrat was in his shiny red robe. The thing was half open, showing the Chief's bloated and hairy stomach. He was laying on his bed with pillows scattered. Two pitiful slaves stood on opposite sides of the bed.

"Chief" Balin saluted, stiff as his heart. "There is a man who claims to be Prince Leo of the Union."

Regrat raised his brows and looked at Leo. "This man? Is that true boy? Anyone can claim being Prince Leo."

"Anyone can claim being you Chief Regrat. The poorest of urchins, the most wretched of slaves. And yet nobody makes the mistake. Why do you think that is?"

"Because I am rich? Because I have slaves to better my days? Because my soldiers defend me with grit?"

"No. Because you are you. I have no evidence of my claim but me speaking in your front, isn't that evidence enough? My father told me that great men were designed to be great. Now, how many slaves destined for the fighting pits have received your audience? None I guess. I am the only one because I am worthy of your attention. I am Leo of the Union."

"Not bad" Regrat smiled, fat cheeks bouncing. "Let's say you are indeed Prince Leo, the firstborn, next in line for both the crowns of Castonia and Vanadis. What now?"

"Oh you know what's going to happen. I am half Vanadian and so I of course know the importance of deals. Let's make a deal, Chief Regrat. A sound deal which will benefit both our interests."

"A slave dealing with me. Hah! Maybe you are indeed Prince Leo. Well go on Highness. Impress me with your offer."

"First my demands. Don't worry, I am not asking for much. I only want two things. First is that you treat me as a guess here. Second is for you to arrange my journey back to Holm."

"That is lenient Highness." Regrat spread his arms, smiling. "Of course we would treat you as our guest. The comforts of Legson will be open for you. And although we wish for your long stay, the Union would want you back. We have twelve ships in our only dock to the north. I will send all to escort your return."

Something was wrong. Leo felt it. Regrat's smile was a simper. His tone was insincere. Did the Chief not believe him? No that was not it. Him being Leo was apparent even to those who hadn't seen his face. His hair was the same golden hue as his mother's. His eyes were also the same blue. But his features were a match to his father's- smooth jaw and hair, sincere smile.

"You find it hard to believe me"

"Oh I believe you. Your Highness Leo, I do believe you. It's just, I am a petty man and your father has threatened me many times before."

"Not a threat Chief." Leo chuckled. "Just suggestions to better your rule. Friendly suggestions."

"Strange though. I do remember reading warnings." Regrat stroked his chin. "Ah I remember it now. Silly me. How can I forget. Your father's words were crisp. He warned sending an armada to flatten my land as punishment to my absurd games. He threatened sending a hundred legions into my shores and rooting me out from whatever hole I was hiding."

Damn.

Leo nodded. It was time to change stance. "You know he could. My father is powerful. I told him where I was going and he would send a thousand ships into your land bearing a hundred legions of hardened soldiers if you would not treat me well. There will be war and both my father and my mother had never lost a war before. Not even a battle. You know the risks. I ask you to be wise."

"That's the thing about me, Leo" Regrat rose, his belly shaking as he moved. He drank some clear wine and freed a burp. He looked at Leo. "I was never wise. I am just powerful. Take him to his cell. Bind his feet and make it certain that he doesn't escape. Tomorrow he will be our main event."

The guards dragged Leo. His bare feet was cut by the rough struggle in the sand.

"No!" He shouted. "War, Chief. You will have war!"

Chief Regrat did not listen and just watched as Leo was being hauled. The bastard emptied the cup into his mouth and gave a satisfied smile.