# ACT I ## Scene One > Rhemtoil — Morning, April (Spring), 1082 <span class="smallcaps">at</span> _**Garios**_ — (They arrive.) “Smell that? Truly, I’ll never get use to Battania’s stench.” (He dismounts.) “Ash, mud… and the potent smell of shit.” _**Arenicos**_ — “Stronger than I remembered. Think I’m feeling sick…” (He dismounts.) “Back then, being hunted, I never noticed. Don’t know about you, but my senses were rabid… Every splash, every snap. The world seemed a thousand times louder! Always knew a heavy step could be a curse—had I been born a thief, I’d been damned.” _**Garios**_ — (He nods.) “You and I both.” _**Arenicos**_ — “Thanks again for coming, Garios. Unexpected as your visit is, it’s nice to finally chat after… everything.” _**Garios**_ — “My pleasure, old friend. Feels good reconnecting. Much has changed—you’ve a new baggage method, I heard?” _**Arenicos**_ — “Heard right! Remember our stablemaster?” _**Garios**_ — (He smiles.) “Of course—who’d forgot those jugs? Her name’s elusive though… Was a ‘castle’ of a woman! Wouldn’t let us armor horses till we saddled them right.” _**Arenicos**_ — “Constant, wasn’t she? ‘Here’s how you maintain a harness. How you strap a harness. How you remove a harness.’ Eh... She used ‘harness’ like a mace—whipping it around!” _**Garios**_ — “And that saying… ‘Harness a harness’—over, and over. Ha! We were there for barding—not packing. Decided to pilfer the stables, at night we snuck inside. Wrapped on our horse’s armor, then off. Made us race, didn’t I? You never won! Too worried about noise.” _**Arenicos**_ — “And justly! The stablemaster overheard—sent us packing that night! Hmm, she was a bit saddle-obsessed, huh? Unbelievably, her words rang in my ears, few days ago. So thank our old stablemaster! Now the trains move quicker, carry more, cost less.” _**Garios**_ — (Villagers gather, lighting the forest afire to farm.) “Awesome—more ash! Think they’re doing it to provoke us? They’ve some wicked stomachs…” _**Arenicos**_ — “Is ‘Iron-belly’ still around? Haven’t seen him in ages.” _**Garios**_ — “No, retired after the Legions were—paused… Married that women who cut him good. _**Arenicos**_ — “Lived up to his name then?” _**Garios**_ — “Had anyone else married one who shanked them, I’d call them mad. But Iron-belly, despite being barbarian, was shockingly competent. Let’s hope he’s well.” _**Arenicos**_ — “And also that he talks sense to this new High King, eh?” _**Garios**_ — “Doubt that. No High King has ever agreed to peace, Aeril being an exception. And considering the raids—safe to say, history’s not changing.” _**Arenicos**_ — “Never know. After they see our numbers today—and subsequent civility, Battania will consider peace. If not… I’ll talk with the senate.” _**Garios**_ — (The fire grows.) “The senate’s a bed of snakes, Arenicos—shouldn’t trust them. They’d watch cities burn if it meant winning a bet. All for their vanity. Show barbarians what happens when they raid us. Make Battania an example. Otherwise they’ll return. Next with friends—then all barbarians.” _**Arenicos**_ — “I can’t declare war without the senate’s input. I’d need full support before—” _**Garios**_ — “Nonsense. You haven’t changed at all! Too worried what others think.” _**Arenicos**_ — “What of it? I know you hate the senate, Garios, but they’re not that bad.” _**Garios**_ — “They’re vindictive. Wronging anyone near me. First Calytos, then Panalea, now Varros. ‘Bribery’ they said… ‘Historically, gifts are a tradition. But bribes, those’re unlawful.’ Hypocrisy, they all do it. Since my uncle demanded land grants for veterans they’ve targeted my family. And anyone affiliated.” _**Arenicos**_ — “Think they’re undermining me, Garios—why? Because we used to be friends..? They’re paying for everything. The treasury’s had a canyon-sized hole since Neretzes’ death. While yes, I need them, I’m no puppet!” _**Garios**_ — “So senator Lucon’s got you preaching peace? Why—saving money? Don’t tell me you think Lucon actually believes that?!” _**Arenicos**_ — “No. He disapproves… I believe peace is possible. That we could end these cyclical wars.” _**Garios**_ — “Did Rhagaea inspire this?” _**Arenicos**_ — (Looks away—flames spark.) _**Garios**_ — “Apparently..! Look, your wife’s words are sweet. Flowery. But they’re moonshine. A false exit. Like Lucon’s fantasies about the old Calradic Republic—another delusion. You can either have war at home or on the frontiers. There is no third option, Arenicos! Whether you wish to see that or not!” _**Arenicos**_ — “Haven’t we seen enough? Enough wounds, enough civil wars… What’s wrong avoiding more?” _**Garios**_ — “Death. You know how it works! Most don’t die fighting. But when the line breaks and they flee—what kills most is fear! Hesitation… Listen, old friend. I’ve demanded two things: land for soldiers and glory for soldiers. Never I’ve wished anything myself. But—” (He kneels.) “—your majesty, please… Restore the Legions. Declare war on Battania. After we’ve marched down Battania’s throat, should any lords be smoldering, we’ll smother them. We’ll retake the Empire’s lost lands from the barbarians! Let their silence be our peace.” _**Arenicos**_ — (He sighs.) “No… That’d only add to grievances many have for the Empire already. Both within, and out. War with Battania would be me betraying Lucon and breaking Rhagaea’s heart. Like orphans, beggars, and madmen—I’ve seen enough… I’m sorry.” _**Garios**_ — (He stands.) “Worried this’d happen.” (He mounts.) “You know… Arenicos… I thought I could help you. I hoped to, at least. I envisioned what you’d say on the way here… Got some worrying scenarios. Worrisome of all was if nothing I said mattered. Not because you’re naïve. Or willfully ignorant. Those'd be preferable to the far more terrible truth... You’re broken. You worked tirelessly to keep the Empire from shattering, that it shattered you. Truth is we’ve already broken. Even before Neretzes’ death. Civil war is unavoidable, our philosophies make that clear. Every one of us, is a shard of glass, you’ve been trying to keep together. We wouldn’t. Couldn’t. It was only you… Twisting, bending, splitting to bind us. That’s worn you down. Worst of all, old friend—I think you’re too far gone to even see that…” (He leaves.) _**Arenicos**_ — (Arenicos watches wind carry a burning leaf to a thatched roof. Its landing obscured. Watching for smoke—he wonders if a fire really did start.)