Kairos 72: Treason (Patreon)

In the end, Prince Hadad caught his white serpopard and returned to the capital in triumph. Vali’s royalty ordered a feast to celebrate their new fur carpet, though it turned out to be a cavalcade of debauchery.

Ugarit’s nobility had gathered in a great hall in the depths of the palace to gossip and party to their heart’s content. Extravagant merchant lords discussed with lightly clad courtesans while hordes of myrmidon servants delighted them with wine and fine food. Philosophers and thinkers smoked opium on silken pillows, while dancers, singers, snake-charmers, and sword swallowers provided entertainment to the guests. Vali’s royalty had even raised private boudoirs protected by velvet curtains for more ‘raucous' kinds of celebrations. King Philip himself had vanished behind one alongside a noblewoman’s daughter, and refused to come out.

Both the Foresight’s crew and that of the Unconquered’s had also been invited to the feast, though few members of the latter joined the celebration. News of the robbery had spread, as did rumors about the incident; especially since Teuta’s men hadn’t dared to reveal what had been stolen exactly. This wasn’t the optimal scenario for Kairos, who would rather have taken the documents undetected.

The glares Teuta’s guests sent in his direction meant that they suspected him too.

“Let them glare,” Andromache said while holding his arm. While Kairos had come to the celebration in his full kingly regalia, his concubine instead selected a splendid red dress. Many men turned to look at her while they walked, though the Scylla paid them no mind. “They cannot prove anything.”

“Their witches noticed the shard’s aura, and might identify it again.” Kairos had the item moved to the depths of the Foresight, under close watch. He hoped that his living ship’s own magical power could overshadow the artifact’s.

Kairos’ gaze wandered around while looking out for his allies. Agron and Nessus had joined the musicians, playing delightful songs for the pleasure of Vali’s princesses. Cassandra and Tiberius discussed with the myrmidon ambassador they crossed paths with on the first day of their visit, and Rook was watching the snake charmers’ performance with fascination.

Prince Hadad wasn’t hard to find amidst this crowd. The boastful heir of Vali was busy presenting his white serpopard pelt to local warriors, with Teuta holding his arm. The pirate queen had traded her armor for a manticore fur dress, making her appear like the second coming of the huntress Artemis.

“She didn’t waste time after you left,” Andromache observed.

“But she feels unsettled,” Kairos replied. Teuta might try to look relaxed, but her gaze was hollow, her mannerisms lacking in spontaneity. And when she noticed Kairos, she clenched her teeth in silent anger.

Prince Hadad didn’t share his date’s fury though. Instead, the flamboyant prince quickly gestured at Kairos and Andromache to join him.

“Ah, my friend!” the prince said as he greeted them, before kissing Andromache’s hand. “Your beauty would make any man blind, Lady Andromache.”

“Thank you,” the Scylla replied icily. She had no patience for political games and hadn’t forgiven Hadad for trying to put his sister in Kairos’ bed. If the prince had noticed her hostility, he feigned not to.

“I see you managed to catch the beast in my absence,” Kairos mused, trying to lighten up the situation.

“An absence that has nothing to do with what happened to my ship,” Teuta said harshly.

At least she was honest enough to dispense with the pleasantries.

“Are you implying I have anything to do with this robbery?” Kairos rasked with false displeasure, as if he felt truly insulted. “I would never steal from a fellow Travian.”

“I thought you hadn’t found the culprits yet, Queen Teuta?” Prince Hadad asked.

“I have no proof yet,” the pirate queen admitted, “but you must admit his sudden departure from our camp was… suspicious.”

Andromache sneered. “My love came to me to discuss a proposal which I found indecent.”

Prince Hadad smiled without warmth. “I see,” was all he said. “Still, did you accept it?”

“I hoped to discuss the matter with you in private,” Kairos pointed out while Andromache looked away. The Scylla struggled to contain her fury, her nails sinking into her lover’s arm like claws. “You could tell me the tale of your hunt while at it.”

“I don’t have much to say,” the prince admitted. “Lady Cassandra and my sister Anat did most of the work in locating the beast. I only gave it the final blow.”

“The most glorious of all,” one of the prince’s courtiers interrupted the conversation. His attempt at flattery made Andromache sneer.

The prince accepted the praise in good grace, while Teuta squinted at Kairos. “I would like to hear of this proposal, Prince Hadad,” she said. “Future allies have nothing to hide from each other.”

“This is a private matter,” Kairos pointed out.

But to his surprise, Prince Hadad went along with Teuta’s suggestion. “On the contrary, I believe it might become a public one soon. And I would not deprive our fair ladies of our company, my friend.”

Kairos felt Andromache’s arm tense up around his, as both read between the lines. Having heard the proposals of each Travian party, Hadad intended to settle the conflict with a bidding war.

Kairos hoped that the information he had gathered would prove to be the tipping point.

Dismissing his couriers, Hadad invited his three guests to one of the secluded boudoirs in the room. Mounds of pillows, blankets, and sheets awaited them piled up on the floor behind a velvet curtain, next to opium pipes and plates of delicacies.

The two couples settled comfortably on the pillows, right before a servant closed the curtain behind them. The noise of the celebrations instantly vanished, and an eerie silence settled in the boudoir.

“A sound-negation spell,” Andromache observed. “Clever.”

“It offers some welcome privacy, wouldn’t you agree?” Prince Hadad took a honeyed cake from the nearest food platter. “Do any of you smoke opium?”

“No,” Teuta replied firmly.

“I do not take drugs,” Kairos added. “They addle the mind.”

“Good answer.” The prince took a bite out of his cake. “I believe we are past the point of pleasantries anyway.”

“Let’s cut through the chitchat,” Teuta said after losing patience. “Which side will you support?”

Andromache sneered. “Are you that eager to crawl into his bed?”

“At least I would not share it with a Lycean,” Teuta replied.

Andromache’s lips parted to reveal her fangs, but she managed to keep enough self-control not to tear out the pirate queen’s throat. Kairos took his concubine’s hand into his own, and the contact soothed her.

Prince Hadad observed the scene in silence as he finished his cake. Once he was done, he joined his hands in a pose that Kairos found eerily similar to his father’s. “So,” he said. “Do you have an alternative match to propose?”

He knew better than to insist on Kairos marrying his sister while in Andromache’s presence.

“My adoptive aunt Cassandra is unmarried, and I believe you would find joy with her,” Kairos explained while Teuta and Hadad listened in silence. ”My good friend Tiberius is a son of Dispater. I would like to propose a match between him and one of your sisters.”

As he worried, Kairos could tell that the proposal didn’t satisfy the prince in the slightest.

“I’ll be honest,” Hadad declared with a sigh. “Your Cassandra would make a magnificent wife, I have no doubt of that. She is powerful, wise, and experienced. But she offers me only one spear. However mighty it is, it cannot compare to a matrimonial alliance that can supply me with an army.”

“Which I offer,” Teuta added with satisfaction.

“I thought you didn’t want to make an enemy of Lyce?” Kairos asked the prince with a frown.

“I do not,” Hadad agreed. “But having my future child inherit the thrones of Vali and Travia is a tempting prize. I could forge a new empire.”

“With me alive, no child of hers will rule,” Kairos replied while glaring at Teuta. “Cassandra is family to me. And Tiberius is a son of Dispater.”

“Cassandra is not your blood, and Tiberius is a lesser son,” Hadad countered. “Hardly a fitting match for a princess of Vali. I appreciate the offer, but I must ask for more.”

“You ask for too much,” Andromache replied dryly.

Hadad frowned at the Scylla, unimpressed. “Are you some secret Achlysian princess, or the heir of a god?”

“No.”

“Then why do you have a voice in this?” the prince asked, though he sounded more curious than anything.

“Because I love him,” Andromache replied simply.

“And because I love her,” Kairos added to his concubine’s delight.

Their words left Prince Hadad speechless, as he processed them. He looked like an explorer discovering an entirely new culture, or an unknown beast. His mind struggled to make sense out of a foreign reality.

He has never known love, Kairos realized, only power plays. To his surprise, Teuta also looked at the couple with what could pass for respect.

“Sorry,” Hadad said after regaining his composure. “I have been surrounded by sycophantic courtiers and power-hungry concubines for so long that I thought your union was political. But King Kairos, do you realize that matters of love have no place in a dance of nations?”

“I have another motive for my refusal,” Kairos admitted. “A match between me and your sister would threaten my existing alliances.”

“It’s the Lyceans, isn’t it?” Prince Hadad shook his head. “I warned you, my friend. If you cannot offer me a good match, I will have to close my door to you.”

Kairos had expected as much. “So long as you keep it closed to thieves and traitors.”

Teuta glared at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Kairos put a hand into his armor’s breastplate, and brought three scrolls with familiar broken seals. Teuta’s eyes lit up in recognition, while Hadad recognized Zama’s symbol on them.

“These are letters that I intercepted,” Kairos explained as he handed the scrolls to Hadad. “One handwritten by Mithridates, and the second by your own general. They were discussing a coup against the monarchy. The third document is the proof that your general joined a permanent, anti-Lycean alliance with Teuta behind your back.”

Hadad’s face turned into a blank mask, as he seized the documents and examined them.

The first letter, written by Mithridates, courted Zama by offering him his support in installing Prince Hadad as a puppet king under the general’s thumb. King Philip had repeatedly denied Pergamon’s overtures to a firmer alliance, and Mithridates not so subtly implied that he thought Zama would make a better leader. The general’s letter answered that he had agreed to join Mithridates’ alliance and pledged his support to Pergamon’s cause. And of course, the third document showed the defensive pact with all the signatures on it.

Teuta watched on as Prince Hadad’s scowled deepened the longer he read. “These are obviously forgeries,” she said as he noticed her own seal on the defensive pact.

“Yet I recognize my teacher’s handwriting and vocabulary in his letter,” Prince Hadad pointed out, his fingers trembling in rage. “Only someone who knew him intimately could forge something like this, though I will have divination specialists verify the authenticity of the magical seals. King Kairos, if this is a ploy—”

“It isn’t,” Kairos replied. “We checked.”

And they already had made copies. Kairos had dispatched a messenger bird to Sertorius with the defensive pact’s information, to begin the hunt for the [Diadochi]’s allies across the Sunsea. Some of the letters even mentioned specific Lycean politicians under Mithridates’ thumb, paid to prevent the Republic from fully mobilizing in the Thessalan war.

“Where did you get these documents then?” Teuta asked, trying to salvage the situation. “Certainly not through any legitimate means.”

“A good spymaster never reveals his sources.” Kairos smiled at Teuta. “Unless… you have an idea?”

The pirate queen’s eyes widened, as she finally noticed the trap’s jaws.

Teuta couldn’t accuse Kairos of the theft, as it would mean that she had knowledge of the letters and hid them. This would be tantamount to admitting that she had been planning behind the royal family’s back with their head general, while she could at least pretend not to have knowledge of Mithridates’ suggested coup in the present situation. Nor could Kairos openly accuse her of being the source of the letters, as it meant he had robbed a fellow guest while their hosts explicitly forbade hostilities.

This was a deadlock.

If looks could kill, Teuta would have beheaded Kairos where he stood. But she couldn’t escape the trap he had set. “No, I do not,” she lied.

Hadad wasn’t a fool. He looked at the two Travians with a displeased gaze. “The two of you should marry,” he said, all warmth gone from his voice. “You deserve each other.”

Andromache didn’t bother to hide her displeasure. “We helped you, princeling, and this is how you respond?”

“I appreciate the gift, but I suspect the means you used to get it did not align with Vali’s tradition of hospitality,” Hadad replied coldly. As Kairos worried, he hadn’t taken the heist well; stealing from another guest didn’t reflect well on Vali’s ability to keep the peace within its borders. “As for you, Queen Teuta, your signature on this defensive pact right next to my old teacher does not speak well of your intentions.”

“I swear I had no knowledge of this intrigue,” Teuta lied.

“I hope so for you.” Prince Hadad folded the scrolls. “In either case, I will reject your proposal as I did with King Kairos’. I have had enough of you. Both of you.”

“I did what was best for the good of my realm,” Teuta replied. “You played the same game, prince, and you did it out of greed. You do not have the moral high ground here.”

“You played us against each other,” Andromache added. “What did you expect, princeling?”

“I expected better,” Hadad replied. “Vali treated you both fairly and we negotiated in good faith. Yet both of you schemed behind my back.”

He’s me, Kairos realized, from before Boeotia.

For all of his talent, Hadad was a novice. He had been ruthless enough to try to get one of his sisters into Kairos’ bed, even knowing Andromache wouldn’t respond well, but was too naive to use more underhanded measures. He hadn’t seen Mithridates’ hand at work in Vali, nor imagined that Kairos would resort to drastic measures to get his voice heard. Much like Kairos himself had thought himself a player by sacking Boeotia, only to realize he had been the pawn of a better player.

He could see the disturbed glint in Hadad’s eyes. The prince only realized what he was up against now, and that getting involved in this international feud might prove more troublesome than he expected.

“If love has no place in politics,” Kairos said, “then honor doesn’t have one either.”

“You are free to play your games, but not in Vali.” Prince Hadad rose from his pillow seat. “Your stay in my father’s realm was entertaining while it lasted, but you have until tomorrow to leave the country. Both of you.”

“And the war?” Teuta asked, her fists clenching.

“Vali will remain neutral, and if his culpability is proven, Zama will be stripped of his rank and banished,” the prince replied before walking past the curtain. “When you go to war with snakes, you only get bitten.”

How ironic. After disparaging his father’s course of action, he finally realized that the old shrewd king had been the wisest one all along.

The prince vanished, leaving the rival Travian factions alone behind the velvet curtain.

“You ruined everything,” Teuta rasped once Hadad was well and truly gone.

“Good,” Kairos replied. The trip to Vali had been a net loss in his case, but at least he had made sure that the country wouldn’t fully mobilize behind Zama and gathered information on his foes.

“You lied to him.” Teuta’s fists clenched in silent rage. “Mithridates has been trying to convince Zama to launch a coup for years, but the old general always refused out of patriotism. You edited the letters.”

Truth be told, Teuta was correct. Zama had refused Mithridates’ proposals several times in the past and refused to betray the monarchy out of loyalty to Hadad… but he did agree to join Mithridates’ alliance against Lyce in his latest letter, without explicitly refusing to partake in a coup as he did in the others. By only reading these two letters, a cursory reader would assume that Zama had agreed to support a coup… even if he hadn’t.

But the prince didn’t have to know that. And Teuta couldn’t clear things out without admitting to supplying Mithridates’ letters to the general behind the prince’s back.

“I told Zama that making our rivalry to the death was his mistake,” Kairos pointed out.

“As making our disagreement a personal affront was yours,” Teuta replied with a cold glare. “I cannot forgive that heist of yours. You broke into my sanctuary and Mithridates will be furious over these letters becoming public.”

Andromache responded with a snort. “You can only blame yourself for this defeat, treacherous wench. You made forgeries of them and kept the originals for yourself.”

“You didn’t trust your allies,” Kairos said. “Your alliance was built on shaky grounds, and you’re paying the price for your own dishonesty.”

“My allies may be difficult, but you certainly enjoy collecting enemies. That move of yours would have made Mithridates proud.” Teuta shook her head in regret. “I sincerely didn’t want to make a foe of you, Kairos, and though I advanced my own interests I never sought conflict with you. But we will leave this place as sworn enemies.”

“We were bound to fight sooner or later,” Kairos replied with a shrug. “I just hastened the schedule.”

“I would tell you to tread carefully, but I can see my words cannot reach you.” Teuta’s gaze radiated with angry determination. “When next we meet, one of us will die.”

“As I told Zama…” Kairos locked eyes with his rival. “You first.”

The pirate queen rose up like a soldier marching to war, and went after Hadad. Perhaps she intended to salvage the situation, however hopeless it was.

Congratulations, you earned a level (total fifty-six) and 3 Skill Points.

“What do we do now, my love?” Andromache asked once they were alone. She sounded both happy and anxious about the outcome.

“We drill the crew for battle.”

Kairos could see the blood on the walls.

Teuta would come for them the moment they left the island.

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A/N: this chapter was made possible by you, dear patrons.