- THE HUNT
“Son of a whore!” Ditas Agricola spat as the arrow whizzed through the air and impaired itself on a nearby tree. The stag’s head was immediately alert. Ditas lowered his bow as the animal scampered off.
“We’d be lucky to snare a rabbit at this point.” Asho quipped.
“Relax my prince. I will surely get the next one.” Ditas said through his teeth. The rest of their small hunting party exchanged doubtful looks.
“You should have let the prince shoot. Now way could he have missed.” Helpian pressed.
“Oh stop kissing his boots!”
After a less than humbling pause Asho replied. “True.”
Marcus, the son of Kinos’ legate sighed and gave the rest of them a wrap-it-up gesture. “One day, Ditas, you may realize that fishing is more your speed.”
Ditas gave Marcus a thin look.
“Man first the Argenti and then this.” Marcus whistled, “It has not been your day.”
Asho looked over. “What happened with Admrilia?”
Heliphan snickered. “He asked the princess for her hand in marriage.”
Asho threw back his hand and laughed. “You did what?”
“Sugia is a tactical alliance for Aegtrys!” Ditas Agricola sat on a nearby log and reached for his water skin. “But she would not hear of it. Even when I told her that I could keep up with her.”
“Let me assure you, nobody can keep up with Admrilia.” Asho said.
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“That’s what she responded with.” Ditas raised his voice. “Perhaps my reputation has failed to proceed with me, Ditas Agricola. I am Argenti. I single handedly made the silver islands crumble with one ship. I have sent men to the bottom of the Semperimar before dawn.”
“I wonder what she does before noon.” Asho muttered sarcastically.
“It was unbelievable. Tell me, does she have somebody?” Ditas continued. “Perhaps that we don’t know about? Like maybe one of her guards. I heard the handmaidens telling a rumor that one of her centori visited her late at night.”
Asho tilted his head considering it. He couldn’t fathom Admrilia having a relationship with either Alexandros of Flavius. If anything Alexandros and Flavius would be together. Which was, well, whatever. Asho shook his head. “I doubt it. Admrilia goes by the beat of her own power hungry drum. She’d rather die than marry.”
Heliphan snorted. “See Ditas, if one of us were to slit your throat, you’d have a chance!”
Asho revealed in the afternoon sunlight as they hiked back up the trail. After yesterday's hours-long meeting with the Conqueror’s council, the fresh air had been a welcome release. Asho ran a hand through his curls and peaked through the forest’s branches towards the cloudless afternoon sky.
“I have already directed one ship to send tribute down into Pi-Yenja to the prince’s betrothed in anticipation of our arrival.” The Conqueror had said.
As if Asho could forget his impending wedding. The end of the year weighed on him. The Conqueror’s decision would determine the direction for the rest of his life. Whether he would be the next Emperor of their nation, or fade into obscurity. A worthless, nothing, loser.
“Where did you even learn archery anywhere?”
Asho startled at Ditas’ question. “I spent four years in the north. The Ironsides are excellent hunters.”
Marcus gave a hearty laugh. “You are full of surprises, prince.”
“Why’s that?”
“Ditas thought you wouldn’t be able to so much as draw a bowstring.” Helpian called from up ahead.
“Oh, because he can’t?”
Ditas’ laughter sharped. “Of course not!”
“I am an excellent hunter.” Asho asserted. It’s just that I’ve lost my way, that’s all. He eyed the stag out of his peripheral vision. Ditas seemed to notice as their party returned to their horses.