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The sun dipped low over Kephallonia, its golden light spilling across the disordered chaos of Markos's vineyard. Inside the cluttered house, amphorae lined the walls in uneven rows, the air thick with the scent of spilled wine and crushed grapes. A goat bleated lazily in the corner, nibbling on what might've once been a business scroll.
Atlas leaned against a wooden pillar, watching Kassandra pace. Her spear rested by the table, catching faint glimmers of light. Alexios and Lukas sat nearby, half-listening, half-fighting the urge to laugh at Markos's eccentric decorations.
"So," Kassandra said, arms crossed, "this 'hunting job' of yours—what exactly are we hunting, stranger? Boars? Wolves? Some great beast terrorizing the countryside?"
Atlas shook his head slowly. "A beast, yes. But not one with claws or fangs. This one walks on two legs."
Kassandra raised an eyebrow. "You're talking about a man."
"Correct," Atlas said. "He's a wealthy merchant, the kind who profits from war. He's been supplying both Sparta and Athens — feeding both nations while pretending to be neutral."
Kassandra laughed dryly, resting her hands on her hips. "A merchant funding both sides? What's next, he sells weapons to the gods?"
Atlas's expression didn't change. "You joke, but his influence reaches far. I've been tracking trade patterns for weeks. More ships than usual are coming through these waters. Rumors of a sudden escalation in Megaris. Armies moving faster than they should."
The humor in Kassandra's tone faded. "You think this man is here, in Kephallonia? And you think this merchant is behind it?"
"I don't think," Atlas replied. "I know. I just need proof—and a blade sharp enough to help me find it."
She crossed her arms again. "Alright, stranger. Say I believe you. Why hire me? There are other mercenaries who'll work for less."
Atlas nodded once. "You're the Eagle Bearer, aren't you? I prefer working with those who get results."
Kassandra tilted her head slightly, studying him. "You talk like you know more than you should. Ordinary people don't care about war routes or merchant shipments."
"I'm not ordinary," Atlas said simply, his tone calm but weighted. "Let's just say I have… connections. All over the world."
That earned him a curious look. "Connections," she echoed. "That's vague."
"Deliberately," he said, half-smiling.
Alexios leaned back with a grin, nudging Lukas. "See? Told you we weren't the only ones with secrets."
Lukas chuckled, raising his cup. "Our brothers wander the world, send letters back to camp, and still manage to find more mystery than peace. I'm starting to think we attract it."
Before Kassandra could respond, the door creaked open, the door creaked open, and in strutted Markos—wine bottle in hand, grin wide as ever.
"So!" he announced loudly, nearly tripping over the goat. "Did you decide who gets to pay me next? Because, my friends, I am willing to take installment plans!"
Kassandra's expression hardened. "Markos."
He froze, sensing the danger. "Y-Yes, my brilliant partner?"
"Out."
Markos blinked. "Out where?"
"Anywhere that's not here."
Markos nodded solemnly. "Ah, business talk. I understand. I'll… supervise from outside!" He winked at Atlas. "You've got good taste in partners, my friend — fiery, deadly, terrifying!"
He left the room muttering about "brilliant investments" while tripping over his own goat on the way out.
The moment the door shut, silence filled the room again—broken only by the goat's lazy bleat.
Kassandra groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "One day, that man is going to sell himself."
Alexios snorted. "Wouldn't surprise me if someone bought him, too."
Lukas added, "Probably at a discount."
Atlas refocused. "Now. We need to find out more about this outsider. Someone who looks rich who just recently arrived by ship. If he's involved in these trades, the docks are the best place to start."
Kassandra nodded slowly. "Then I'll start at the docks. I know some people there. Sailors talk — especially when you buy them wine and they hear everything that floats into the island. If this merchant's here, they'll know."
Atlas's brow furrowed. "Asking your contacts is fine. But going alone isn't."
She smirked. "I work alone."
"Then you'll die alone," he countered.
For a tense heartbeat, the two stared at each other—the mercenary and the wanderer, pride and pragmatism locked in quiet battle. Then Kassandra's lips curved into a small, begrudging smile. "You're stubborn."
"I've been called worse."
From the corner, Alexios finally groaned. "By the gods, will you two stop flirting and start planning?"
Kassandra snapped, "I'm not flirting."
Atlas added calmly, "Neither am I."
Lukas raised his cup. "Could've fooled me."
Kassandra turned toward the door. "Fine. I'll go to the docks. You three find a shebeen, rest up, and try not to break anything else in Sami."
Atlas gave a small nod. "Agreed. We'll regroup tonight."
As she walked out, the broken spear slung over her back, the fading sunlight outlined her silhouette against the doorway. The air between her and Alexios seemed to hum—something unspoken, like a faint pull neither could explain.
Atlas caught it immediately. The way they both moved, their stance, the way their shoulders rolled before turning—it was uncanny.
Same blood… same fire, Atlas thought quietly. The gods do love irony.Whether they know it or not.
Kassandra caught him staring. "What are you thinking, stranger?"
Atlas's lips curved slightly. "That the fates have a strange sense of humor."
Kassandra narrowed her eyes, half-smiling in suspicion, before turning away and heading toward the path to Sami.
Atlas, Alexios, and Lukas followed after her briefly, until their roads split—one path toward the docks, one toward the shebeen. The sky glowed crimson with the setting sun, and the vineyard behind them faded into shadow.
War was brewing beyond the horizon. And their fates had just begun to intertwine.
END OF CHAPTER 33
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