Water boiled over a small table flame, swaying from the draft that was fed into the room. In a much smaller pot was tea seeping, fit for two, but unlike a set that you would find in most entente countries, there were no sugar nor milk for they were even rarer than tea leaves which had to be used in moderation also. Within the gatehouse was a chamber on the second floor where the captain of the outer wall would have rested where natural light was bleak and in their stead did flames of torches burn. Beside an arrowslit that provided a narrow view over the fields beyond the wall were two chairs with the width of couches, cushioned and blanketed. On either side of the spruce table, the lieutenant and the third general sat and talked but the latter was surprisingly friendlier than the other. He smiled and laughed, treating the boy as if he was his younger brother who was less enjoying their conversation. At all times, Arminius kept a wary eye on the Rus, and he could not even bring his focus away for a second, even if his comrades were standing guard under the same roof within the same walls. Siegfried and Arnau quietly abided their orders, keeping careful watch by the stairway and behind the general whilst their archer friend kept watch outside on the army from the battlements in the misty rain. They had their suspicions that the Rus had more reasons than to seek hospitality and Aurelius had noticed their stress, but he made no comments yet. Sipping tea, his posture was easy, slouching along the entire length of the chair with his legs kicked up. He did not have his usual trident spear nor was he visibly armed, but it only made Arminius more unsettled, unable to judge his intentions.
Resting his cup on his bottom lip, Aurelius pointed at the lieutenant with his fifth finger. “You haven’t told me your name.” He mentioned, having gone a third of an hour without him ever introducing himself to the general.
“Arminius Reichner, Lieutenant of…Dannen…aide-de-camp to Lady Ingrid Rantzau.” The boy gave his answer, unsure of how he should state his muddling allegiances.
“Ah, then we must have fought against each other at that bridge.” Aurelius set his cup on the table and lowered his leg, intrigued. “Rex has been babbling on about you for a while now.” Making circles with his hand, he gave a slight chuckle.
Unsure of whether or not he had heard that name before, the lieutenant paused. “Rex?” Arminius asked, unsure as to who that might have been.
“Regulus von Eos.” The general corrected himself, realizing he had been calling him by his childhood name. “I believe you’re acquainted.”
Arminius assumed that he was referring to the time when he had fought Rzhev on the field of Serrmolos and that he must have heard about it from Eos directly, but their mutual knowledge did not change his stance a still, he was alert. As Aurelius sipped his tea, he saw that Arminius had not touched his that had begun to cool and gestured for him to drink up before it went cold. However, the lieutenant refused to move his hand.
Having realized what it was he feared, Aurelius lowered his cup and lifted his sweatshirt for him to see that he had not hidden any weapons on the front of his body. “Don’t worry, I’m not armed.” He covered himself again and rolled his sleeves up as he leaned back. “I won’t bear to be that stupid.” claimed the general.
Trusting his honesty, Arminius looked down, and awkwardly apologized, knowing that he had been acting too paranoid lately, “Sorry…” Finally, he raised his cup and dared drink his tea.
His act had nearly forced a laugh out of the general but he managed to withhold his instincts for once and continued, “Then, tell me, Lieutenant Reichner, what are you doing here?” Aurelius glared at him with an inquisitive expression. “You look neither Danner nor exactly Europer.” Surveying his appearance, he moved his hand, up and down, over his own face.
Arminius held onto his cup that warmed his hand and peered down into his dark reflection. “I was forced to retreat here, if you remember.” He did not hesitate to take a jab at him. “As for the other thing, my father’s Zhermanner and my mother’s Seriker.” For once in years, he had to explain, however he was not proud of it.
Curious as to how that might have worked, Aurelius crossed his legs and rest his arms along the back of his seat. “I’ve never met anyone of that…mixture.” The Rus gazed at him with interest. “Have they ever told you how they met?” The boyish general appeared eager to hear his tale.
Convinced that he had never heard his parents talk about it, the half-blood shook his head. “No, but I’d heard that their marriage was arranged.” Arminius cut his story short.
However, Aurelius did not respond with disappointment, his interest piqued. “Their families wanted a marriage of eifers, didn’t they?” He gave a light smile having known the truth, his eyes pinned on his cup. “Believe me, I know too well.” His mind was elsewhere, not present, and he felt as though the lieutenant did not wish to speak anymore about his family.
Arminius froze and looked up, shocked that he could read his mind, but it was exactly that reason. He remembered the moment when he first heard of it from his own sister who had been eavesdropping on an argument between their parents and telling him when they were younger. Disgusted by the revelation and that such a concept could exist in this world, for days, he hid away alone, yet now that everything had become ash in his memories, a fogged feeling lingered.
The blood in the Radilov’s hand began to glow with eifer. “Instead, I was born with a regressed version of my father’s; my brother, Tiberis, with my mother’s; and my little sister, Athena…well…without either.” Aurelius played around with the humidity in the air which had turned into mist from his power. “I would’ve had more siblings if not for a disease that ravaged our family.” He told with a part of his tone sounding glad that he had fewer competition to worry over.
Not knowing how to respond, Arminius lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry to hear that…” said the lieutenant, saddened that he thought another had to know his pain.
As he set his cup on the table, his hands flinched when Aurelius broke out a giggle. The boy looked up and saw his face which had no signs of regret nor dismay, just childlike bliss.
“What is there to be sorry about? You weren’t Rex were you?” Aurelius dismissed his sympathy, uncrossing his legs and sat forward. “Besides, it was well-deserved.” He raised his cup as if he was toasting to the horrendous past before taking a sip of his tea.
Even towards his own blood, his lack of compassion frightened Arminius who had never heard one be so cold-hearted. The boy felt his voice close off and his mouth shut, with no opinion to give and no want to speak. But before the general could continue their conversation, Arminius remembered that this talk of memories and families was not his purpose, neither did he believe that it was the general’s. He was reminded by the need that he had to uncover what the Rus wanted and refrained from any more undirectional chatter.
His hands were put together and his body stilled from any motion. “I’ve meant to ask,” Arminius began. “Wasn’t Lieutenant Colonel Serov supposed to be here instead?” asked he, but the general seemed uninterested.
“No, he’s been recalled to the frontlines, so I’m your company now.” Aurelius pushed his and Arminius’s cup towards the teapot. “At least, for the time being.” He added discontented that they could not spend more time together.
The general pinched the teapot by its peculiarly snake-like handle and poured tea for Arminius then, for himself, although the task would have usually been reserved for the lesser-ranked soldier, he felt less inclined to follow the norm. Not one drop was wasted and it did not splash when the tea filled their cups as steam rose before the lieutenant’s eyes, briefly shrouding his vision that remained focused on the Rus. Lifting the lid of the teapot, Aurelius examined the leaves within, and determining that its flavor had not yet been drained, he poured into it a new batch of boiling water to let it seep.
Seeming mesmerized by his tea-making art, the boy closed his eyes as he clenched his hands on his knees. “General, forgive me for being blunt.” Arminius skipped ahead having grown impatient with diplomacy. “What is it that you’ve actually come for?” He straightforwardly asked.
Aurelius paused and glanced at Arminius before replacing the lid over the teapot. “This. Tea and conversation.” As if it was the obvious, he gave an even blanker answer.
“With twenty thousand troops in escort?” Having been long unconvinced by the general’s act, Arminius pushed back.
“Is it so wrong to want to act like a king?” The Rus shrugged and leaned back, slouching into the cushions again.
For how childish he seemed and how unbelievable his answers were, it had made Arminius partially believe what he said was true. Holding his cup under his nose to catch the fragrance of the tea which he had perfectly brewed, Aurelius sipped, taking care not to burn his tongue.
But the longer the lieutenant stared at him, the more he understood that it was just a lie, a farce that the general had made up, and he only grew more desperate for an answer. “Will the war really be over so soon?” Arminius cautiously knitted his words together with the tone of an ally that he was meant to be.
Again, the general had noticed that the lieutenant had not touched his cup ever since he had poured his tea but he did not gesture for him to drink. “We’ll reach the Renen by summer, Lutet by winter.” His voice grew colder as he predicted. “We needn’t bother with the rest knowing they’d throw down their arms the minute Vrannken falls.” He spoke as if the worst was behind them and that battles would only become easier.
“Then, shouldn’t your troops be on the frontlines?” Arminius feigned support.
From having a neutral smile to a minute grin, Aurelius set his cup down and returned, “Are they not?”
Aurelius glared at Arminius intensely who inched away from the table. His movement was minimal, so not to agitate the general, as Arnau and Siegfried turned their heads towards them in shock. They knew that their cover had been blown and held onto the hilts of their weapons but Arminius did not yet give any signal to strike, as if he had become entirely trapped in the prison of Radilov’s air.
Sitting forward, the Rus put his hands together beneath the table that the other had been wary of. “Don’t feign innocence, Armin.” Aurelius warned that the time of doing so was gone. “We’ve long known your endeavors.” He honestly revealed, knowing that the lieutenant knew what he was referring to.
With nowhere to go and nothing to say in his defense, Arminius felt his blood grow stale. “Then, why didn’t you attack us the moment you found out?” He confronted the man who had been toying with him ever since.
“Why would I?” Aurelius scoffed, flinging his arms up as if he had expected that his enemy should have known. “I’d much rather take that hope away from you once it’d been completely seeped.” Ending their talks on that note, the Rus chuckled.
Distant drums rolled and the sound of a great horn bellowed. The army in the far was silent no more and had been woken from its slumber. Their chants thundered and Arminius knew that their march had begun, not ever bothering to take the slightest peek out of the slit in the wall, sure of their movement, when his eyes stayed pinned on the easy general. As if nothing was happening, Aurelius continued to brew his tea and poured a new batch into both their cups. Whether it was out of the respect for the lieutenant who had somehow remained calm despite everything that had been revealed or if he simply wished to keep up his facade of modesty. A whiff of steam veiled their faces again that would have made for the perfect opportunity for either to strike, but even as it receded, neither moved from their seat. Arminius slowly moved his hand towards something that the Rus would not have been able to foresee yet he took no precautions against it. He let the tea leaves rest in the open pot and retrieved his cup from the middle of the table when he heard hurried footsteps repeatedly tap on the steps of the staircase. Swinging around a pillar with a bow in his hand, drenched from the rain was Károly who had hoped to reinforce Arminius having felt he was in danger only to find that Arnau and Siegfried had already unsheathed their swords and were ready to pounce on the general. The archer drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it on his bow pointed at the enemy.
Scanning the room with his peripheral vision and sensing the lancer who approaching behind him, Aurelius lift his cup and gently blew on the surface, rippling his tea. “Still, I’ve had my fun.” The Radilov took a sip and exhaled, his eyes turning to Arminius. “Thanks for the tea.” He offered his gratitude.98Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEhCw2T44Na
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