Thanks to tanahome for the beta.

Il mio artista bello

My Lovely Artist

Chapter 6

Author: RoninBrat

By the time Arislan arrived with Hermes in tow, Narsus was positive no feud existed between Daryun and Quishward. The two were too relaxed in each others presence, short of the occasional scowls Daryun showed at Quishward's bold antics. But that was typical Daryun behavior. These actions alone indicated that it was nothing more than a nasty rumor, no doubt someone overheard Lord Daryun trying to dissuade Lord Quishward from his foolish path of pursuing the King's advisor. It hurt to think that perhaps Daryun still held a low opinion of him.

Hadn't he more than once accused him of being consumed by the drinking illness? Hadn't he on several occasions, reminded him of his place? Daryun never hesitated in pointing out his flaws. It was even worse since they'd join forces against the Luscitanian's.

Narsus sighed and leaned forward, decidedly ignoring the two as he pulled a blank sheaf of paper from his stack. He began writing a list of his own flaws in his own language. Luckily, neither Daryun nor Quishward could read it or at least he hoped they couldn’t. But the self indulged distraction didn't last long as his mind returned to his observations of the two Lord's. He had to continue, had to have the right words for Arislan. And if it were just Quishward vying for him, then he would plead with Arislan to allow it to take its own natural course.

Because he could definitely say that Quishward indeed had an attraction for him and he wasn't sure exactly how to feel about that. The Commander was not unattractive, in fact he was downright gorgeous. A hand span taller than Daryun and broader. Yet not as moody as Daryun, friendlier in fact, definitely offering more affection. But then...

Yes, always a but. The Daryun he used to know, before he was exiled was just as friendly, a flirt. And when Daryun was drinking; very touchy. Narsus had enjoyed those times. But they could never go back; never return to the innocence as they once knew it. They had both changed in many ways. Yet he couldn't help but feel deep inside that he was disappointed that it wasn't Daryun.

It was with great relief when Arislan finally strode through the doors, servants and present Lord's alike bowing before him. Arislan hated it, had told Narsus that and Narsus had in his infinite wisdom told the young King that people overall thrived on protocol; that it was a necessity. It showed respect and love for one's monarch. And Arislan had every right to expect it, even demand it as long as he remained a kind and loyal royal servant to his people.

‘Be leery always of those who do not pay you respect.'

"Sorry about my being late," Arislan greeted, pulling Narsus from his musings. Arislan had at least taken the seat Narsus knew he would take. "Hermes and I had a few things to discuss."

"You are looking unusually pale, Advisor. Perhaps it's the black you are wearing?" Hermes vocally observed.

It was Arislan who chose to speak up, "Yes, Narsus, I hadn't intended for you to wear the uniform outside ofbattle."

"Well, your Majesty, I do believe the situation calls for a more militant approach." Narsus’ smile was tight. He was worried now and the knowing, amused look he was receiving from Hermes let him know that Arislan's cousin knew what was up.

Arislan laughed, remembering the planned topic, "Never fear, Narsus, your humble King is taking your advice. You and I can discuss more on the topic later."

Narsus smile become genuine, filled with relief. "Your humble servant thanks you, your Majesty."

"Indeed." Arislan chuckled. It was then he shared a look with Hermes before returning to them. "Since I had already pulled the three of you together, I've decided that now would be a good time to discuss Maryam and its current occupants."

And thus it went from conversation to strategy; going well into the noon meal and beyond.

"The danger is not going to come from the army itself. No. It’s going to come from the converts. The villagers. The one's who think they are doing the will of their god." Narsus stood studying the map, one arm crossing his abdomen as the other rested, elbow down, a slender finger stroking his cheek as he concentrated; a habitual pose for the strategist when deep in thought. "It would take a month to reach the border by foot, a month of sailing if we hit them out of the north... winter by the time the army reaches the shore of Maryam. It would be slow going."

"How many men do you plan to take?"

"Arislan has offered twenty-five thousand men. I can acquire another ten thousand that stand in reserve outside Pars' border." All eyes turned to Hermes, "Most are Maryam's disbanded army. I received a message this morning saying they are ready to take back their country and as the Princess' fiancé it is my duty to lead."

"Yes. No one is disputing that, Prince Hermes." Absently Narsus spoke. Finally turning away from the map he looked from man to man. "Any allies in or around Maryam that you know of?"

"I'm not sure." Hermes said grimly, the country of Maryam having never been his focus. "There is also the Navy, but the reports about their remaining numbers and ships have been sketchy at best."

So, they were headed to a country whose royal family had been slaughtered by the Lusitanian religious fanatics quite blindly. Not good. Not good at all. "Well then. The set mentality should be as invaders. The Lusitanian's have had enough time to make it their own." Narsus returned to his seat but not sitting, picking up his goblet, starting to wish fervently that it was wine rather than water.

"Invaders, Narsus?"

"Yes. Invaders. Trust no one. Attack and ask questions later." Narsus looked grim. War was an ugly thing, even uglier when you had to be the bad guy.

A look of disgust crossed Arislan's face. He had not counted on this. The young King had witnessed much during the occupation of Pars, like the suicide of innocents. And Narsus was saying, in a round about way, that there was more that would like happen in that fashion, with his army triggering it if they succeeded.

Narsus, reading Arislan, went on to say gently. "Religion can be an ugly thing, Arislan. Especially when men start inflicting their belief's on others. In fifty years...maybe a hundred, they will be back at Pars' doorstep."

Arislan's eyes flickered to Narsus. He knew his friend was right. "If there was but a better way."

Narsus snorted, "Locate and assassinate that damn priest, Botan. Perhaps. But there would always be someone to replace him."

"So, what? Destroy a religion. How? Destroying the temples, killing the followers?" It was Daryun who spoke up rather heatedly; a tenderhearted, seasoned warrior. But not so tenderhearted that he couldn't do his job in cutting down anything that posed a threat to Pars or its inhabitants.

"No. That too would be a mistake. Never, ever question a man's god. No. You just show them that religious tyranny is not acceptable. Pars has always prided itself in maintaining an open culture. Perhaps we wait til spring, spread the word that we believe no religion wrong only the enforcement of its will. Besides," Narsus paused to take a sip, seeking to quench his dry mouth. "We all know that the Lusitanian's did not attack us solely because of our religion. Religion is only a front. Their leaders are power hungry bastard's who used religion to sell a war to its people. In so doing, they had innocent converts in villages to slow us down. And it'll be worse outside our borders."

"Your insight to all this, Narsus, has been enlightening. You see things we don't." Hermes started as he studied the strategist. Pale blue eyes locked and held a topaz gaze, "Do you have any other insights?"

Narsus let out a chuckle, chewing the corner of his lip in thought. He could give several suggestions, for very legitimate reasons. But what he could offer up at this point would be personal and political. Any other suggestion would have to be on the battlefield, hands on.

Never play with me.

I appreciate you honesty

I will require it many times.

Narsus frowned. Politics was a nasty business.

"As we all know, Maryam's royal family was slaughtered, save for the Princess Elina, who by birthright is now the Queen. She must be crowned. She must be recognized as the Queen by any remaining nobleman of Maryam and possibly by any allies in and around Maryam. I am sure some of Maryam's gentry can be found residing with what is left of the Army and Navy."

Hermes gave a slow nod of understanding as Narsus' words sunk in.

"As ugly as this may sound, know it to be true. She is blind and many will take advantage of that, considering it a weakness. So it would be imperative that she marry, that the Queen has a King, a champion." Narsus was slow in saying the next. "They may not trust you, Prince Hermes, if you stepped out on the battlefield merely as a fiancé."

Hermes did not need to be reminded of the reputation he possessed. At the time he was, what he believed to be, in the right. Leaning forward, he rested his chin in his hand, studying Narsus across the table. "I will think on this some more, Advisor. You have made some very valid points."

"I have been granted permission to ask you this question," Hermes continued, seeming to hesitate at the word ‘permission', the word sounding a little strained. Having grown use to making his own decisive decisions. "It is that I ask you to help me, Narsus. To ride at my side to Maryam as my advisor and strategist."

Narsus wasn't sure at what point he knew that question would come up. Perhaps, in the corridor this morning, Hermes’ cryptic message about needing his honesty. And most definitely Ashi had a hand in this, the goddess' way of getting him out of a predicament which he really did think existed. After all, it was he that had prayed rather fervently only a short time ago to get him out of the mess with Daryun and Quishward.

Slowly Narsus' gaze turned to Arislan. The King had given Hermes permission. Arislan took it upon himself to answer his inquisitive gaze.

"Narsus, I know your feelings in regards to the Lusitanian's and their religious enforcement. And I will understand whatever decision you make." Arislan was leaving it to him. His decision alone. It was comforting to know that Arislan knew he'd make the right decision. The only decision.

"I would be honored to ride at your side, Prince Hermes."