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Moments before the brawl in Thermopolia
The morning sun painted Kephallonia gold, its light shimmering across the waves as Kassandra rode down the rocky path toward Sami. Her mare, Phobos, snorted beneath her as if sharing her irritation.
"Another day, another debt," Kassandra muttered, brushing windblown hair from her face. "Markos better not have gotten himself into another mess."
She guided her horse through the crowded marketplace — stalls bursting with fish, spices, and cloth — until she spotted a familiar stand. Jars of olive oil, water, and cheap wine were lined in rows beside rusting swords and broken amphorae.
And behind the stall, a familiar voice laughed loudly over the clinking of coins.
"Well, Duris," Kassandra said, dismounting. "Looks like business is good."
Duris looked up, still grinning ear to ear. "Kassandra! You just missed the best part of my morning! The gods must be smiling on me today!"
Kassandra crossed her arms. "That's rare. What happened?"
Duris puffed out his chest proudly. "Some young warrior came by — big, strong, serious fellow. Asked for directions to Markos's vineyard. I thought, well, why not help? So I pointed him the way, and he—ha!—he handed me a pile of drachmae! For my honesty!"
He jingled the coins in his hand like a child with sweets.
"The gods do love me, Kassandra! Maybe I should start selling directions instead of jars."
Kassandra blinked in surprise. "Someone looking for Markos? Did he look angry? Dangerous?"
Duris thought for a moment, scratching his beard. "Hmm… no, not angry. Calm. The kind of calm that makes you think he could be dangerous, though. But who pays five hundred drachmae just for honesty, eh? If he wanted trouble, he'd have used his fists."
Kassandra frowned, thoughtful. "Maybe. Still, I'll have to warn Markos. He's good at making enemies."
Duris snorted. "Good? He's gifted."
She sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, I'm here for your debt. Markos wants his drachmae."
Duris's good mood faltered for a heartbeat — then he reached into his coffer, pulled out four gold coins, and then another one, pressing it into her palm.
"There," he said with a weary smile. "Four gold drachmae for Markos, with interest… and one for you, Kassandra. For putting up with that greedy idiot."
Kassandra blinked, surprised. "For me?"
"Don't argue," Duris said, voice softening. "I know he doesn't pay you enough. You're a mercenary, not his servant. Why do you still follow him?"
Kassandra's gaze drifted toward the horizon, her voice quieter now. "Because if it weren't for Markos, I'd have starved in the streets. He gave me food, a roof, and a chance. I owe him that much."
Duris sighed deeply. "You've done enough, Kassandra. Every time he stirs up trouble, you're the one saving his ass. And this time…" He hesitated. "He's gone too far."
Kassandra frowned. "What do you mean?"
Duris's face grew serious. "That fool borrowed money from the Cyclops."
The air between them turned cold.
"What?" Kassandra's tone sharpened, eyes narrowing. "The Cyclops? That's how he bought the vineyard?"
Duris threw up his hands helplessly. "Exactly! You know the Cyclops, Kassandra. He'll want his money back — or a pound of flesh instead. I like Markos, but he's gambling with your life too. You need to get out while you still can."
Kassandra's jaw tightened, but she nodded slowly. "I'll talk to him. He'll have to explain himself — again."
Duris gave a small, sad smile. "Good luck, Kassandra. You'll need it. The gods help you if he tries to sell you another 'brilliant plan.'"
Kassandra chuckled lightly. "You know he will."
She pocketed the coins and mounted Phobos, waving to Duris. "Thanks for the talk, old friend."
"Good," Duris said. He clucked his tongue. "Just be careful. And if you see that young man who paid me — the one with those coins — tell him to keep his head down. Strange coins bring strange trouble."
Duris waved back, his grin returning. "Try not to kill him. Or at least do it after I collect my next payment."
Kassandra folded her reins over Phobos's back and mounted, sliding into the saddle with ease. The market had already returned to its rhythm: a woman bargaining over figs, a man offering a bracelet to a passing girl, a group of sailors laughing too loudly. But beneath the normal noise, undertones of gossip threaded through the stalls — talk of debts, of ships that had sailed strange routes, of a mercenary woman with an eagle that people said could see a man's secrets.
The mare's hooves raised the dust again as they turned toward the southern road, but before they had gone ten paces, a sharp crash rang from the thermopolia — splintering wood and the crack of a table. Voices rose: men's shouts, the yelp of a crowed cat, then the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor.
Kassandra reined Phobos and slid from the saddle without hesitation. Market stallholders fell silent as she ran. Duris watched her go, wringing his hands and muttering, "May the gods have sense. And may Markos have a plan."
Shouts. Splintering wood. A chorus of male grunts and the clatter of tables breaking.
She reined in her horse. "Oh, by the gods… what now?"
Sliding off Phobos, she strode toward the noise.
The tavern door flew open as a man stumbled out — bloodied, groaning, and promptly collapsing into a barrel of olives.
Inside, chaos reigned.
Two men — strangers, clearly not locals — stood surrounded by a dozen groaning thugs. Broken tables, spilled wine, and unconscious men littered the floor. And these two? They looked like they'd just finished a warm-up.
The taller one, broad-shouldered with a wolfish grin (Alexios), cracked his knuckles proudly. "Next time, bring more men!"
The huge one, Lukas, sighed, rubbing his temple. "You just had to do it, didn't you?"
"I didn't start it!" Alexios said defensively, grinning like a child caught stealing bread. "They asked for my sword."
"Atlas told us not to start trouble," Lukas muttered.
"I didn't start it," Alexios repeated. "I finished it."
Lukas groaned. "He's going to kill us."
Before either could argue further, a shadow filled the doorway.
"What in the name of the gods is going on here?!"
The voice sliced through the noise like a blade.
Every head turned.
Kassandra stood framed by the doorway, sunlight spilling around her. Her short chiton was dusty from travel, a broken spear strapped across her back, a sword gleaming at her hip. Her gaze swept over the wreckage, the fallen thugs — and finally landed on the two strangers standing amid the chaos.
Her eyes narrowed. "You two. Start talking. Now."
Alexios blinked, then grinned weakly. "Uh… surprise inspection?"
Lukas muttered under his breath, "This is going to be a long day…"
END OF CHAPTER 30
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