Far from sight, lay a little city called Howelbr, a city rejected by kings and cursed by the gods, or so the tales claimed. For centuries, its name had been whispered with dread, its walls described as haunted, its soil called barren. Travelers spoke of its air as foul, its people twisted by misfortune, and its streets drowned in shadows, where no god dared walk. So deep was its stain upon memory, that even those who ruled nearby would not glance toward it. No man outside the city would lay eyes upon it, let alone his feet. Howelbr had been abandoned to myth, forgotten, even though, it sat between the two greatest powers of the age: Greece and Rome.
But in the reign of King Hector I of Greece, and Emperor Gladius of Rome, the silence around Howelbr's estrangement, was broken. A traveler named Dorian of Thessaly, a Greek wanderer whose hunger for discovery often drew him where others feared to tread, ventured forth despite the whispers of fearful men. Though many Greeks spoke of Howelbr in whispers, dismissing it as a place cursed by the gods, Dorian had always doubted the old tales. He was a son of Greece, from the same lands that gave birth to Mycenae and Athens, and he trusted his own eyes, above the voices of fearful men.
High upon the rocky hill of Mycenae, the citadel, rose like a crown of stone. Its Cyclopean walls, vast blocks, fitted without mortar, loomed with a strength that had defied centuries. Entry to the city, came only through the Lion Gate, where two carved beasts reared above a single pillar, guardians of the powers within.
Beyond the gate, narrow passages twisted upward until the heart of the fortress revealed itself: the palace. At its center lay the Megaron, the great hall of the Wanax.
Painted columns, red as fire and black as night, supported its high roof. Frescoed walls gleamed with lions, chariots, and spirals. A broad hearth, burned constantly, at the hall's core, smoke drifting toward a vent above, while benches and low tables awaited nobles soon to gather, below.
The citadel hummed with life: servants could be seen darting through storerooms of oil and wine. Smiths worked diligently, hammering bronze in the armory. Courtyards were always filled, with clapping with hooves, cries of warriors at practice.
From its height, Mycenae loomed over its valley, a sweep of olive groves, vineyards, and roads that stretched to distant coasts. Kings had ruled for generations in Mycenae. It was here, that Hector I, the king, prepared to summon his council.
Promptly, the kings-men arrived, not knowing the reason for an urgent council meeting. As the council of six walked in, they noticed a famous traveler, called Dorian, sitting on the left side of the high table where generations of kings and king-men had held past councils. This unsettled them.
Seated on the throne, that was encrusted by glittering jewels, that reflected into the whole room, was king Hector I, wearing an expression that seemed like a smirk. One by one, they all sat and awaited the King's word. It was Dorian, who spoke instead, with dust upon his cloak and wonder in his eyes.
"I rode here with all the power from my horse, my lords ", Dorian began.
Confused, Euripheus, who is the senior king-man , the closest to the king cut him off and quipped, "…and so did we all, but how does that justify any of this?"
"Be patient Euripheus," King Hector countered him.
Dorian picked up where he left off, saying, "Far beyond the familiar valleys of Mycenae, my lords, I found a city risen from the earth, a city not of decay, but of splendor."
"What are you blabbering about?" asked Theron the second kings-man
"If this is blabbering ,do you think the King would have called for a council ?" Philemon, the third kings-man, replied.
Without another word, their facial expressions adjusted with new, understanding
"My lords, I am speaking of the contemptible, cursed city of Howelbr, " said Dorian
"Howelbr?" cluelessly asked, Nikandros, another kings-man.
"It is wrong but understandable that a man in the same council with the King does not know about the cursed land," Philemon interjected.
"It is acceptable however, because that name has not been mentioned here for centuries," Theron another kings-men added.
"Your lackadaisical character precedes you my lord, perhaps you should read more books, than you birthed children, " said, Menandros.
The kings-men were now all laughing, at the banter
"Silence!!" the king snapped abruptly. "This is more important than your jests." "Proceed Sir Dorian."
Howelbr, long cursed, had shed its ruin and was trying to shake off that taint. The barren fields now shimmered with golden barley. Groves, swayed with the silver leaves of olives. Fig orchards perfumed the air. Vineyards, stretched across the hills like rivers of green fruit, heavy and sweet.
Herds of cattle grazed in pastures, and flocks of sheep rolled over the meadows like drifting clouds. Even sleek horses, powerful, proud, and bred for both chariots and trade, stamped the earth.
Howelbr's markets burst with life. Cloth dyed in colors richer than the Aegean at dusk, ornaments of bronze and ivory that caught the sun, and garments woven with artistry unseen in any court were in display for trade.
The people themselves, once thought twisted by curse, were strikingly tall and graceful, adorned with the very fashion, their city had mastered. Their skin was bronzed by the labor in their fruitful lands. Their laughter filled the air like music. Their homes newly painted with frescoes that rivaled Rome's.
Though they lacked armies and the strength of warriors, their greatest shield was their anonymity. For, while kings and emperors turned their eyes elsewhere, Howelbr flourished, unseen. Tucked between the might of Greece and Rome, the city had become a jewel no hand had claimed, a treasure protected by its own forgotten name.
The curse now broken, and its glory revealed, Howelbr's fate still hung in the balance. Those who knew of it, would not forget again.The kings-men sat in awe. They had never heard of such drastic change.
"This is far beyond my imagination," Nikandros spoke, in astonishment.
"You don't say " Theron replied, followed with a laughter.
"But how are we sure this isn't made up?" Menandros pressed on. "My lords , my name is Dorian of Thessaly, I am the finest and most prominently, distinguished wanderer in the whole of Greece, My informant has never failed me, my lords," Dorian quickly retorted.
" Well, for the good of Dorian of Thessaly, you better be right ," said, Lycomedes causing silence, before Theron spoke.
"I don't believe him but he has no reason to lie," he said.
"Yes, this sounds like a made up fantasy, but I see no reason he would lie to us and his King," Philemon added.
The men, all looked intrigued and amazed by the story and yet, their faces drowned in the appearance of doubts, not knowing if this accounting was true.
"My lord , I know it's hard to believe but perhaps you can see for yourself " Dorian offered.
"And just how did you manage to get into this city, Sir Dorian? " Menandros questioned.
"My lord, I have been a traveler for decades, and wandered where no human has set their sight upon, I have climbed mountains, walked valleys, traveled all manner of lakes and seas, Surely getting into an unarmed city would not be an issue, in my profession," Dorian stated.
With a nod of agreement, Menandros responded, "Well said, but we are men of curiosity Curiosity may have killed a cat, but we are no cats." We are the King's men, men of a great kingdom , We have traversed our way through the most imperceptible of things, so forgive us, if we find this unfathomable. "
The whole council nodded in agreement.
"My good lord, the virtue of the wise is silence, " Dorian began, with pride.
Philemon chuckled and then said "You jest with me Sir Dorian, perhaps you are right, But I will remind you, who you're standing before, King Hector, the first of his name, breaker of chains, wisdom of the council, and conqueror, whose spear has never been bent, The King's words, weigh heavier than bronze, he, as keeper of the citadel, guardian of his people, favored by the gods, whose wealth flows like a river, whose name alone silences foes, will not be denied this information, Perhaps you shouldn't be…"
"Enough Philemon!" shouted the King, "for we are not here to speak of glory but here as men with the interest of the kingdom at hand."
"Forgive me my lord but this man is not here, in interest in this kingdom, but in interest of himself." Theron added.
"What do you mean by that?" the King probed
"There's no man in this kingdom that knows wealth more than I do, I can sense when a man is after it, my King, and feel he his doing this, in anticipation of great reward." Theron added, further.
"Does this, not deserve a reward, my lords?" Dorian asked then.
"Perhaps it does, however, the kingdom comes first,Apparently it does not hold that high a priority to you," Euripheus countered.
"This is my line of work, and how I have survived and managed to provide for my family and relations," Dorian defended.
The king coughed, interrupting, and spoke "Theron, you know we have come this far by knowing when to use finances and when to not, with your wisdom, what does this situation require?" the King questioned.
"We could force it-"
"Money my lord, this requires money," Theron abruptly, interrupted Nikandros.
Theron was the richest man in the kingdom. So great were his riches, that his wealth , that is measured comparatively, with that of kings. He owned a vast amounts of land and held an entire city in Greece, under his name. If there was anything to know, with respect to money, it was him.
"Very well then, shall we reward him?" asked the King.
"Yes my lord," the kings-men replied in unison.
"What is it that you seek?" Philemon asked.
"I want a third of the new city, once it is captured," Sir Dorian replied .
With shock the King's men burst into laughter.
"Oh, surely, you jest sir?" Philemon teased.
"Do you have a death wish?" Menandros asked, as the laughter continued.
"You shall have it," the King proclaimed, silencing the laughter, replacing it with shock.
"My Lord, what…?" Euripheus, asked before being interrupted.
"I swear on my throne you shall have what you ask, but I will have your head if any of your account, is false, down to the last detail, " the king spoke interrupting Euripheus.
They all, in acquiescence, said aloud, "My Lord!"
The king made his decision, the council was dismissed, as the King rose and left for his chambers.
Dorian was left with a smile on his face and the kings-men were left confused, in disbelief