Good Man’s Deception

By John Pan

The Roman was clearly an amateur.

He should have used padding to round out his broad shoulders, or used a wig to give his head more volume. Right now, he stuck out like a cow among chickens.

Evander chuckled as he sipped on some wine. He should have left such tasks to the professionals.

The Roman approached his table. Perhaps he had come in search of a professional. Evander soothed his hair. First impressions were important.

“Wonderful to have some company tonight,” Evander said as the Roman sat down. “I’m sure you want to know what the good wines are, being a foreigner and all.”

The Roman chuckled. “The Pontian red that you drink is sharp and dry.”

“How perceptive,” Evander said, taking a good look at the Roman. The man’s gray eyes glinted in the dark, as if his gaze could pierce even the murkiest fog. “A demigod of Athena?”

“Minerva,” the Roman said. “You’re a demigod too. Apate, most likely.”

Evander raised his eyebrows. He would have to test the Roman’s perception. “I’m a child of Hermes.”

“Unlikely,” the Roman responded. “Children of Hermes can’t sit still. You sit here for several hours every night.”

He was observing him. Evander masked his concern with a smile. “Better to spend the nights with some wine for company. You must agree, seeing as you come here every night as well.”

“Not here,” the Roman said. “I’m on duty.”

“Your duty is talking to random strangers in a tavern?” Evander laughed. “Sign me up for the Roman legion.”

The Roman smiled. “Since you’re offering, let me tell you what your job is.”

Evander took a long sip of wine. “I don’t typically accept work from military types. The life expectancy in the ranks is far too low for my tastes.”

“Would you rather die of starvation alone in the dark, or winning glory with your comrades?”

“If glory means a fat pile of gold, perhaps.”

The Roman caught his drift and set a pouch on the table. The tinkering sound it made—enough to last a month, if it was silver. Enough to last a year, if it was gold.

Evander leaned forward. “I’m all ears.”

“The Macedonians,” the Roman said. “Their champion carries a Lesser Aegis.”

“Are you suggesting I talk him into giving me a godly artifact?”

“You’re quick with your hands,” the Roman said. “You’ve never paid the tavern-keeper these past six days. The coins somehow find their way back to your hands.”

Dangerously observant, this Roman. Evander smiled. “I suppose some sleight of hand would do the trick as well.”

The Roman stood. “I’ll get you a second bag just like that one once you bring me the artifact.”

“Pleasure,” Evander said, sliding the bag into his satchel.

“Caecina,” the Roman said.

“Evander.”

“Good evening to you.” Caecina turned away.

The bag was full of Roman silver. Evander would have to exchange it at some major port. Unless, of course, Rome took over.

After tucking it away in the compartment behind the arras, Evander headed toward the Macedonian camp, about an hour’s walk.

Sneaking out of the city was simple. Every city had an underbelly, and Evander was a creature of such a place. Only his clean clothes stood out among the guttersnipe crowd. He made his way through the passwall and into the open country.

Sneaking into the Macedonian camp was simple as well. Military types were proud of their prowess, and the Macedonians were no exception. Evander didn’t even need to use his mother’s powers. They simply believed nobody could scale the mountain and left their flanks wide open. Not even a boundary spell.

A Lesser Aegis. Must be a child of Athena, or perhaps a child of Zeus. Such magic armaments did not belong to common men—they were artifacts wielded by the greatest demigods. And the greater the demigod, the more ostentatious their tent.

There was a tent emblazoned with lightning bolts, lit by a dozen torches. Ostentatious indeed. All he needed now was a sign that read ‘champion of the gods’.

Evander conjured an Illusion. It was the only good that came from his mother’s blood. He set it to pace outside of the tent, intentionally casting a shadow against the fabric of the tent.

Evander crept into the tent. He first searched on the side with his Illusion’s shadow, finding only discarded clothing. He moved his Illusion as he made his way toward the other side of the tent, always working in its shadow.

There. An embellished wooden stand boasted a polished disk embossed with a gorgon’s screaming face. The face shifted, contorted, and twisted. Evander wondered if the anguish captured here was the pain of abandonment, like how his mother left his father. Like how his father left him.

Evander tested the stand. No magical charm, not even a physical trap. He chuckled. Proud indeed, so proud to think himself untouchable.

Evander left the tent, dismissed his Illusion, and crept out of the camp.

“I need a protection charm.”

“A protection charm,” Caecina repeated. “Some kind of Macedonian enchantment?”

“The camp is under a boundary warding spell,” Evander explained. “Must be why they didn’t protect the flanks.”

Caecina nodded. “Tell me about the spell.”

“I could see the camp, no problem,” Evard said. “I could toss a rock through as well. But I couldn’t walk through.”

Evander had described a liminal spell of Hermes, one that required a charm from Hecate.

The Roman nodded. “Come back here in six hours.”

Evander smiled. “Thank you so much.”

He stayed in the tavern after the Roman left. After all, there was nothing else to do, and nobody to see. The wine seared his empty stomach, which he remedied with a sizable helping of bread with olives and cheese. He chose against slipping the coin back into his pouch. He had plenty of coin now, and moving on to the next city was more of a hassle the more the thought about it.

Evander watched the people come and go. The usuals came today as well—the man grieving his wife, the woman shopping for her husband, the vagabond who had too much to spend. All these people simply passing him by, unseen in plain sight.

Evander was in the middle of his third cup of wine when a newcomer stepped through the threshold. The newcomer’s eyes met Evander’s.

“Ahh, my friend,” Evander said, beckoning him over.

The man sat down, blocking Evander’s view of the doorway with his immense shoulders. “You are Evander?”

“Indeed,” Evander replied. “You are acquainted with Caecina?”

“He is my commanding officer,” the man replied. “He tells me you require magical assistance.”

Evander nodded. “He did tell you the details of my request, did he not?”

“No,” the man said. He was a poor liar.

“Unfortunate,” Evander said. “Perhaps he forgot. In any case, this is what happened: I was walking toward the edge of the camp when I hit an invisible wall. I could see into the camp, I could toss rocks toward the camp, but I couldn’t go any further. Rather difficult to get the artifact if I can’t make my way inside. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“They must have a demigod of Mercury,” he said.

“You tell me,” Evander smiled. “You’re the expert.”

The Roman rummaged through his pouch. He set down a piece of gold worth maybe three silver pieces and a pair of tiny torches, perfectly sized for rats if they had Olympic games. Then he spoke an incantation, and the materials fused together.

“Quite magical,” Evander said, taking another sip of wine. “I imagine you must be a child of Hecate.”

“Indeed,” he said.

“That will be all I require,” Evander said, itching to lay his hands on the charm. “I expect to see your commanding officer here tomorrow morning?”

“Tomorrow morning,” the man said.

Evander smiled and slid the charm into his pocket. “Many thanks to you, my friend. And best of luck with the import business.”

The man stood and left without a word.

Evander inspected the charm in the gloom of his home. A pure gold talisman, the twin torches of Hecate pressed into the metal. It glinted out of tune with his candle, as if it was sucking the light away.

A genuine magic talisman. He could pawn this off and live for three months. Or, he could use it to enter the warded homes of the prominent to live off of them instead. They didn’t lack anything anyway.

That night, charm in hand, he left for the Macedonian camp once more. Once more, he entered the tent and laid his eyes on Lesser Aegis.

He tested the rack once more. Plain wood. He dared to touch the shield itself. Nothing happened. It seemed inert, almost as if it was a forgery.

Evander watched the gorgon face scream despite not having no mouth. He felt a pang of pity for her, forever doomed to be silent. Well, at least she could make faces. He didn’t have that luxury.

He slipped out of the camp without a word.

“More?”

Today the Roman sent a woman. A child of Hermes, most likely, since she kept tapping her feet like Evander was already two hours late. Perhaps the commander himself was impatient.

“Make no mistake, I want to deliver the goods,” Evander said. “Unfortunately, that hasn’t been possible. The item is set in a trapped holder. I need something exactly the same size that I can slot into the gap.”

Judging by her frown, she was not convinced. “How would you get the real one out if you put the forgery in?”

“Simple,” Evander said, spreading his hands. “You have fast hands yourself, I’m sure.”

She growled. “I’ll run it by Caecina. Meet me at the ruined villa in six hours.”

Name, not rank. Evander chuckled as she left. Must be the Roman commander’s woman.

Two Romans came this time.

A man thumped toward the ruined villa, so loud Evander could hear him a league away. The woman was a flurry, at times on his left, at times on his right, like a child given too much honey.

“Name’s Frontinus,” he said, attempting to whisper. “Optio. Caecina told me you needed a forgery.”

“Indeed,” Evander said with a smile. “I trust you have one for me?”

“Only the best,” Frontinus said, setting down his pack. He probably could have carried the woman in that pack. “I trust you are acquainted with Cora?”

Evander smiled. “I must have missed her name. A pleasure, Cora.”

“You better not be cheating Caecina,” she shot back.

Evander took a step back. “Why would I ever?”

“Come now, Cora,” Frontinus said. “Caecina said to give him a chance.”

Give me a chance? Evander was surprised. That Roman was far too trusting, especially for a military type. Perhaps he thought the promise of coin would keep him in check. Pride, once more.

Frontinus produced a bronze shield, polished, with a hideous gorgon’s face. “I enchanted the face. I was told the gorgons on Aegis shields could move.”

The gorgon’s face did indeed move, though this face was more furious than horrified. After the Romans left, he could offer it to one of the military types for a hefty sum before anyone found out it was only enchanted in appearance.

Evander smiled. “Such exquisite work. I say, only a child of Hephaestus could hammer out such a masterpiece.”

“You have me there,” the Roman said, smiling himself. “Hope that’ll let you get the shield.”

“Well, I suppose there could be more complications,” Evander said. “I do my best, of course, just like you.”

“We all do.” Frontinus hefted the pack back onto his shoulders. “May the gods bless you, lad.”

Evander smiled. Of course the man would bless him—he wanted Evander to do something for him. “Thank you, good man.”

With the shield slung over his back and the charm in his pocket, Evander snuck back into the Macedonian camp.

This night was different. The champion demigod was still awake—Evander could hear commotion in the tent. He and his paramour were enjoying nighttime activities.

Evander wouldn’t use the Illusion this time. Shadows against the tent would alarm them both. But he could use their own racket as a distraction.

He snuck inside, biting his lip to keep his laughter bottled within. The mere thought that he would enjoy such activities with the Romans on his doorstep was ludicrous. Perhaps he thought his divine shield would save him.

Evander almost stole the Lesser Aegis right then and there to spite him. But if he could get another magical item off of the Romans before he plundered both armies—Evander could laugh all the way to Corinth.

He left the tent, then the camp, without any hint that the champion noticed anything was amiss. He would, eventually. Evander made certain of it—after all, the champion’s paramour would be looking for her dress tomorrow morning.

Evander finally let out a laugh when he was enveloped by the darkness of his home. After he started, he couldn’t stop—at this rate, the local rats would think he was possessed. Perhaps he was.

He finally calmed down and ran the fabric between his hands. Fine linen, no doubt imported from Egypt, worth several silver coins. Maybe there was more to plunder in the Macedonian camp.

Or the Roman camp.

He didn’t need to ask for another magical item—he could take it.

With that, he opened the door, and snuck off toward the Roman camp.

The Romans were far more vigilant, likely because they were so far from home. Patrols paced along the earthen ramparts, which Evander avoided by using his Illusion. They also had a barrier ward, but the Hecate charm let him through after the second try.

Once again, he looked for an ostentatious tent. One with owls, perhaps. Yet, it wouldn’t be too out of place, as there was no way that Roman was the commander of this whole host.

Nothing. The tents were lined up according to number, and there was clearly a well-illuminated command tent in the middle, but otherwise, there was nothing.

Evander frowned. Perhaps the Romans commander forbade such displays.

No matter. He would simply find some random Roman’s stash and make off with it.

“Evander?”

Evander turned, careful to not appear surprised. There he was, the Romans commander. “Ah, Caecina. I was just looking for you.”

“How did you get—never mind. What brings you here? You have the artifact?”

“Well, there was another complication tonight,” Evander said.

“Tell me,” Caecina said.

Evander showed him the linen dress.

Caecina laughed. “He must be furious.”

“Oh, he will be,” Evander said, tucking away the linen as carefully as he could. “In an hour or so.”

“That’s right,” Caecina said, checking the stars for the time. “It’s almost breakfast. You must be hungry.”

Free food. Why not? “Oh, no need. That would be a bother.”

“Have you tried Cora’s cooking?” Caecina asked. “You won’t regret it.”

Evander smiled. “Lead the way.”

“Why is he here?”

Cora was already awake, kneading furiously one moment and stirring vigorously the next.

“There were certain complications yesterday night,” Caecina explained. “I’m sure Evander would like to explain himself.”

“Well, you see, the artifact’s current owner happened to be awake,” Evander said with a smile.

Cora flung the bread into the oven and tossed some herbs into the pot. “Why come here? You never came before.”

Evander smiled. “I wanted to share.”

Cora fanned the fire so quickly Evander was afraid she would set the entire camp on fire. “Share?”

Evander showed her the dress. Cora smiled for about half a second.

Cora returned to her pots. “You have Lord Zeus’ balls, I’ll give you that.”

A bugle sounded. All around Evander, the Roman camp stirred.

“Breakfast,” Caecina said, waving Evander forward. Cora found a spare bowl and filled it before Evander even moved.

“How delightful,” Evander said. “I didn’t even have to ask!”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Hurry up and take the bowl.”

Caecina was next. After him came the Hecate demigod, then the Hephaestus demigod—Frontinus? Several others followed afterward.

“Everyone, this is Evander,” Caecina said. “He’s the one I hired to pilfer the artifact from the Macedonians.”

The assembled crowd waved and nodded. Evander smiled, quelling his fear. There were so many eyes on him. “Greetings. I am Evander, a local of Epirus, child of Apate, curse her name.”

The Romans laughed. “Most of us don’t like our godly parent,” the Hephaestus demigod said. “Aside from Caecina.”

Caecina waved the comment away. “Oh, I have plenty of gripes about Minerva.”

“At least you get to see her,” the Hecate demigod said.

Caecina laughed. “Fair point.”

The chatter went on. Evander forgot the names of twenty other demigods while he ate two bowls of bacon porridge, a loaf of bread, a handful of dates, and a delicious cake they called Savillum. Cora was indeed a magnificent cook. Caecina was a lucky man.

Evander returned to his home about three hours before noon, bursting with food and regret. The dress he stole. What was he thinking? And then running into the Roman camp?

Sneaking into the Roman camp this morning was the greatest mistake. He didn’t swipe an artifact. Worse, he got to know Caecina and Cora and the rest of the Roman posse. The sweetness of his time there—his heart sank just thinking about running.

He couldn’t just waltz into the Macedonian camp tonight. The dress he stole—indeed, the champion would be alert tonight, burning to get back the pride Evander stole.

The Hecate charm, the Aegis forgery, and the linen dress, plus the bag of Roman silver. He could live a good few months on that, passing off as a retired Greek mercenary as soon as he could get to Tyre or Alexandria. They used plenty of Roman silver there.

But the Lesser Aegis. An artifact like that, a gift from a godly parent—he could live on that forever. Lords would invite him to feasts just for carrying it.

He could get it. He slipped into the Roman camp, and there was no reason the Macedonian camp would be more vigilant. Besides, nobody ever saw through his Illusion before.

Evander lay on his cot. He would steal the Lesser Aegis, then run. For that, he would need to sleep.

The Macedonians set up a border ward and ran patrols. Evander bypassed these countermeasures with ease.

But the champion’s tent was strangely silent. Was he truly so arrogant as to sleep today?

Evander found a dark place to hide, then conjured his Illusion. He willed it to crawl toward the entrance of the tent.

“Did you crawl through the muck like a worm yesterday as well?”

It was a trap. The demigod was awake.

Evander stopped the Illusion. “Seeing as you were thoroughly enthralled yesterday, I didn’t need to crawl.”

A bolt of blue light split the air, blasting Evander’s Illusion. Evander dispelled the Illusion, then conjured it again, walking nonchalantly toward the tent, as if he was strolling through an Epicurean garden.

“Bastard,” the champion roared. “A child of Hermes?

“Looking for this?”

Evander adjusted the Illusion, making it look like it held the Lesser Aegis.

“Ploughing whoreson. You think you can trick me?”

“I stole your shield yesterday,” Evander said. “The one you have inside is a forgery.”

The champion shot another bolt of lightning. Evander dismissed the Illusion, then conjured another, dangling a shield fetchingly.

Evander nearly laughed when the demigod burst out of the tent half clothed, spear in hand. “Where are you, you mangy dog?”

Evander left the forgery lying against his former hiding place and darted away, bouncing toward the tent. The champion ignored Evander’s Illusion now, looking this way and that for his shield. Thankfully, children of Zeus did not get divine eyesight.

He slipped into the tent. The shield was not on the stand. Evander quietly sifted through the mess on the floor, then ran his hand through the champion’s bed. There it was, tucked into his bedsheets.

Evander’s heart pounded with excitement as he freed the Lesser Aegis. He was close, so close to his prize.

“My Lord?”

“He’s here!” The champion roared. “If you imbeciles did your job properly—“

“There he is!”

Evander had dismissed his Illusion, the conjured another taking flight from the champion’s tent. While the Illusion fooled the Macedonians, he sliced through the tent and emerged from the other side.

“My Lord, there’s two of him!”

So, they weren’t total idiots. Unfortunate. Evander directed his Illusion to the left, while he ducked to the right.

Macedonians, half awake, blocked his path. Evander didn’t stop. Holding the shield in front of him, he barreled past them. The shield was indeed enchanted—arrows and javelins flew his way, all turned away by the divine power held within the shield.

No wonder the Romans wanted this. Evander was invincible. He laughed as he ran, untouchable and uncatchable.

Then there was a flash. Evander suddenly found himself careening through the air, a bang splitting his ears.

Evander tasted metal. He tried to curse. The shield wasn’t enchanted to block lightning.

“Fool,” the champion bellowed.

Evander heard footsteps. He tried his eyes, but they didn’t work.

“Thanks for the shield.”

The Roman. Child of Athena. He planned this all along.

Evander cursed. A fool indeed, to try and scam the military types. The Macedonian was too strong, the Roman too clever.

Evander woke up in a cot.

A cot? He opened his eyes.

“Hey, you’re finally awake.”

The Roman. Caecina.

“What a surprise,” Evander said. He could talk his way out of this. “Caecina, was it?”

Caecina smiled. “To think you actually came through in the end.”

“Came through?” Evander chuckled. He carefully felt around for restraints. Nothing. “Of course I came through. What, did you think I would try and scam a child of Athena?”

Caecina raised an eyebrow. “You did, though.”

Evander scoffed while he scanned his surroundings. The Roman camp. All the demigods were up and about. There was no escape. “Tell me, how exactly did I scam you? Everything I asked for was necessary.”

“Everything you asked for was also worth a fortune,” Caecina said.

“We’re dealing with the magical,” Evander said, checking for an escape path. “Of course everything would be expensive.”

“You just won’t admit it, will you,” Caecina said. He waved forward one of his subordinates.

“My apologies, could you remind me of your name?” Evander asked. Another demigod whose name he forgot.

“Damon, child of Apollo, optio,” he said, bearing a smile that rivaled the sun in radiance. “I am Caecina’s chief field surgeon. I will inspect your wounds now.”

“Wounds?” Evander remembered the lightning. Was this why there were no restraints? Was he too weak to run?

The Apollo demigod threw off the covers, revealing bandages from Evander’s belly to his toes. “What happened last night?”

“Four nights ago,” Caecina corrected. “We crushed the Macedonians in battle, no small thanks to you.”

Four nights. He sat here for four nights.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“All of this,” Evander said, gesturing to the Apollo demigod inspecting his bandages.

Caecina smiled. “I thought I might be able to change your mind.”

“Change my mind?”

Caecina nodded.

“About what? Needing the magical implements?”

“You didn’t need the charm,” Caecina said. “Not until the last time you snuck in, after you alerted the camp by stealing that dress.”

Dangerously observant. Evander raised his hands. “Terribly perceptive, child of Athena. I’ll return everything you supplied.”

Caecina stared at him, those grey eyes seeing through every one of Evander’s deceptions. “Keep the charm. Your coin is over there.”

Evander followed his finger to the table, where a pouch, full of silver, sat.

“He’s fit for discharge, Caecina,” Damon said. Caecina nodded.

“You’re free to go,” Caecina said.

Evander stood, then walked over and wrapped his palm around the pouch. He could feel the silver inside, waiting to be spent.

Evander looked around. Cora was watching, those Hermes daring him to leave, if only to prove her suspicions right. Frontinus was too, immersed in his work, trying not to look but doing it anyway, as if he was about to lose a friend. The Hecate demigod whose name he forgot twice now stared from a dark corner of his cot.

So many eyes.

“Caecina, I was thinking,” Evander said, pocketing the pouch.

The demigod of Athena raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“The Macedonians aren’t vanquished, are they?” Evander asked.

“No,” Caecina replied. “The legion moves out tomorrow.  We march toward Thessaloniki.”

“Well, since this cot seems to be otherwise unoccupied. How about I go along with you?” Evander asked. “I’m sure there will be more Macedonians who need to part with their divine heirlooms.”

Caecina smiled. “Hardly a more suitable man for the job.”

Evander smiled back. He would give the Romans a chance.