Epander 2.VII

And so here ends the second chapter featuring Epander. Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Really, about anything thusfar that I've written. No one really posts comments, so I just assume that everyone is smitten or doesn't read it. There is no inbetween. Also, I'm going to start on my doubling of posting next week. This week didn't work out for me. I'm terrible at blogging.

Also, I've decided to sort of put my writing/editing process into a few phases, the first of which being to simply get this written. As soon as I finish I'm going to rework my map and completely figure out the world. This means not only what places are like and which cultures are next to one another, but also the local flora and fauna of separate regions, such that I can put references to them in peoples food, among other things. I'd also want to better flesh out their cultures and even create a general timeline that goes back at least five hundred years. I want this to be a living, breathing world. I apparently hate myself.

Typhon was a slimmer, smaller man of dark skin and darker hair, immaculately cared for, silky and tied with a ribbon behind his head. One would think him almost boyish were it not be for the look in his eyes, where even when smiling held you at a distance, the look of a man distanced from the world. Perhaps he had seen far too much death for his own liking, being a General in a country whose wars knew no end. The other man was broad in the shoulders and perhaps too broad in the gut for his position. He wore his hair and beard alike shorter, both of which grey, going on white.

“The other two men here are Archons of premier importance.” He gestured to one man and then the next. “This is Diodoros Agathon, the Archon of public works to be built or maintained, such as this palace or the roads which stretch across the Empire. And lastly here is Philippos Herodes, the Archon of taxation. Tribute from all Satrapies are sent here, and he is responsible for them.” Diodoros had tanned skin, but a sandy blonde locks and green eyes, meaning that he must be of mixed blood with the barbarians from the north. Philippos was a tall, lanky man who kept a long, thin beard of black ringlets to match the rest of his body, with hooked nose and multicoloured cap on his head. Epander was actually somewhat surprised that they were so allowing of natives within the court; he had expected it to be somewhat more homogenous.

“At any rate, Epander Theophilos, you must be wearied from the day’s exertions. Come to court in the morning and labor shall be found for you to accomplish. You’ll be provided with lodgings pending you being able to uncover them of your own.” He turned to one of the many slaves bustling across the room, gesturing with cup still in hand, snapping the fingers of his other, “Pemptos, appropriate accommodations for our esteemed guest.”

The slave instantly set down what he was doing and began to approach, but was interrupted by Epander’s response, “And what of my slaves who have brought with me?”

Miltiades grinned, but there was no malice or insult in his expression as he answered, “Do not doubt the ability of poor Pemptos here. He will provide all that is necessary.” He paused for a moment before dismissing them such, “I look forward to seeing you work Epander. I trust your rest shall suit you this night. Farewell.” He turned once more to the men to which Epander had just been introduced, continuing the work which he toiled on before he arrived, and Epander himself followed the slave out of the door, out of the chamber.