Lion Head Mesa I. Hebsut - Erpa-ha

ref: @Drusk @Eset @Machiavelli

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On the night of April 5th, the mink was dropped at the door of Erpa-ha. She did not look at him. She did not enter farther than she was allowed. The Fellahin and fellow Mazoi were not to be around.

@Senmut.

She spoke to him.

"A message from Hebsut of Muat-riya, to only the ears to the Erpa-ha, Akashingo."

The messenger relayed.

"The borders of Muat-riya have been invaded by an unknown individual. The temple has heen defiled. They fled and were chased from the perimeters. The other witnesses are mazoi, Legend; fellahin, Machiavelli– and I, Eset, Hebsut."

"legend. was anyone harmed?"

the attacks on muat-riya must end. he would cast out for the mereoans before weeks' end, and he would go alone.

but for now, the prince waited to know if he must alert their royals or not.

There were many questions after that she could answer. That she knew Eset trusted her to be wise with; albeit, Legend was far too focused upon a more sheer bliss right now, behind the submissive posture and voice.

"No, Erpa-ha."

senmut sensed it, a changing in Ma'at. his green eyes roamed thoughtfully over the woman with whom he had enjoyed, the coupling of blood and ravens. there was much guilt in him, and — 

"very well. please remain here. @Zaahira must be informed. we will create a plan and dispatch our forces from there, and i will send you with a message for eset. for nazli, inform the hemet that she may use a wash of snakes'-blood and water to cleanse the temple."

he did not send a servant to fetch the jodai; instead his own brisk step found their lithe guardian. he relayed legend's message as they went back to join the mazoi.

"muat-riya needs more defense. our patrols will necessitate longer times and deeper searchings. it is possible that some preemptive show of force may be needed."

now he glanced between them.

to say she was enraged would be an understatement.
do we know anything of where he comes from? could he have ties to past disputes? she walks beside senmut with a heavy step, the skin of a cat slung hastily over her shoulders. he'd caught her just as she had returned from training, heat still beading from her brow and breath still high in her chest. perhaps he could have something to do with ashikaga.
either way, the tangerine gaze swelters as it turns to the gemstone of senmut's. i think we need to recruit more soldiers. we are in desperate need. i will handle the training myself, but, and now her brow furrows. who will we send to search for men?

The growing bloodbath surrounding Muat-riya, Akashingo, was beginning to take its reign. Melody, Akhtar, the missing princess, and the nasty intrusions. She had seen both of them. Little devil had seen both after their falls. Oh, yes, Akhtar. Yes, Melody. She had ran through lowlands after hearing the beating words of a message; gifted by Eset, handed off to Senmut.
It was nice again, though, wasn't it? To be close to him again.

When her Erpa-ha and Jodai made their return, they would be met with the sight of her stationed figure. Quiet, head down and pressed into the ground.

"i am to be conducting a ceremony between here and muat-riya. when that time ends, i will be sent abroad to search for the remains of mereo."

soldiers, he hoped, might put an end to all the goings'-on and settle their lands, to look toward a brighter future upon a golden horizon.

he was beginning to weary, whether or not he admitted it.

the priest's green eyes moved to legend, silent as talk of wartime went on. "do you believe there is a plot against us?" he would not tell zaahira how to muster her might, but he felt legend had earned yaret.

he wished her to speak now, to show this.

do you not? there is something akin to alarm in zaahira's voice. a priestess was murdered, the amiirad disappears, and now this? they are spitting on us! i fear this could be the doing of a scorned royal, angry that she could not usurp the throne.
or, and now the jodai looks to legend, the thoughtless, meager little thing. at least she does as she is told. it could be multiple conspirators. i do not know. in my search thus far, i have hardly yielded any leads. the coyotes are stubborn.
with all due respect, nothing remains of the fabled mereo, her brows furrow, tail twitching catlike against her heels. the mountains are all but deserted. it is no use. i believe we should speak to our allies and see if they will loan us soldiers, or recruit elsewhere.
now the guardian was growing frustrated; anguish burns tight in her chest. again, again; she did not want to speak the name! do you think it could be greatwater lake? khaba, or zharille's doing?

Zaahira spoke with a fire that demanded her back into reality. The steps in the Jodai roared loud against her cold belly, carried from the ground. A message to the messenger: pay attention, pay attention, pay attetnion, pay attention. She felt Senmut's gaze burn her neck. The devil did not speak, the imp did not sound, and the dog listened to the thundering of voices with a miniscule presence.

The boy had been a teenager. Did little but stare and move slow, and had not been there long. Left the rancid smell of his presence behind upon the Temple. It would have been a strange ask of someone with ill intent, but they did not know. They did not know.

Her mouth opened. She spoke as a wisp. "I do not know, Erpa-ha." It very well could have been a sick joke from aggressive foes. "He was young. Defiled Temple with urine. He spoke.. strange tongue. Strange words. Bold. Fellahin Machiavelli and I arrived before there could be fight. Hebsut appeared frightened."

"inform the hemet @Nazli that the temple might be restored with a wash of water from the serpent and snake's-blood." his eyes; he did not allow them to linger upon legend.

senmut's ears tipped now toward the jodai, listening to the rightful frustration. "i do not think these attacks are coordinated enough to be the work of an organized presence. bloody, yes. a defilement, yes. but why send a boy to piss? there were two attacks upon priests and one upon a temple. consider that the gods find themselves displeased in some way."

spring bloomed. would akashingo?

"i go for i am bid by pharaoh, not my own want. i am not opposed to mercenaries, nor borrowing, but remember that a debt held is a debt owed. and we wish others to owe our kingdom, not to lay ourselves vulnerable by seeming to beg for protection."

"come to the sunspire with me, jodai. you must see what mereo controlled. gossip. spywork. trading routes. a fortified exit to the flatlands and established roads to the valley of the rising sun, where akashingo has not yet reached its hand."

his voice was even. she was not right to want a swift move. it was hers to command. and it was his duty to see that every step any of them took from akashingo was in support, beautification, and reverence of the kingdom. "brecheliant is a small nome almost directly west of here. i am not certain they have fighters to spare for us. but informing them of invasions might well end with our western flank protected more warmly by their own efforts."

gambits. courtcraft. brecheliant had given them a princess. akashingo's information guarded the caldera. royal symbiosis must prevail.

ever the socialite, senmut offers his own thoughts, to which the auburn-bright ears are turned toward. she is quiet for a long note, jaw tightened in thought. greatwater wolves were monstrous, her gaze turns to legend, seeking concurrence; she, too, understood this. they are childish and primitive enough to send a boy to defile us. they see it as a legitimate act of defiance. they are clueless as to how the gods will punish them for it.
if it was greatwater lake, where were they stationed now? they would not be stupid enough to return to the dragon's mouth, would they?
akashingo is rich. those who would loan us soldiers should consider themselves lucky. but we must not be so pompous, you are right. he speaks of mereo. perhaps the land itself would be useful, but their numbers were not nearly strong enough to set a station there again. we will travel, then. look for recruits. perhaps we will find stateless men, if not from brecheliant or elsewhere.
legend, dove; zaahira's gaze softens upon her. will you assist with this process?

Greatwater wolves! Bad, they said! Bad, bad, bad! Monsters. Monsters. Monsters! Engulfed in the flurry of their words, her mind was heated with voices digging into her skull. Childish. Childish! Primitive! Primitive! They defile us. Punish them! Punish them! The gods will punish them! 

Her rail was curled around her hind legs, arms outstretched with a bowed head of a worshipper to the Superiors. Devil, devil, devil, devil! Things were happening again. Moving! Moving! They moved, they moved. Travel- travel, travel, and when her chest was burned with the by the embers of the flames eating at the floor, flames they lit with the fuse of beginnings, a sound cut through her ears. 'Dove.' Legend.

"Yes." The first answer, the one of her name, as her heart skipped around eagerly within her. Assist. Assist. Assist! They would see not in which the way her mouth then curled up, and how excitable she drew, how much she was now adoring the attention. They would only hear the first answer for a second time, and never know, never once, never twice, or again, how she felt alive again. Legend had been here before.

"Yes."