[i]The next day...[/i] 

The Sunrise came with its expected heat, but it also brought something Brasidas wasn't expecting for twenty four hours. The Protos Kapetanos had finally slept after two days of hard fighting, going to bed shortly after the meeting the previous night. He had gotten the feeling it wasn't generally how the miravets did things, but like it or not he had to make some sort of show of it. These people had been subjected to weeks of fighting and to have their saviors tear down their homes wasn't something he could abide. He just hoped the Satrap would be gentle with them once they left, which they would do as soon as Tychon appeared. 

Brasidas was in the middle of a good dream. A dream where he hunted a wolf in the Boreas mountains. It wasn't until later that afternoon that he would think back, and realize it had been a memory of his youth. As it was, Brasidas was shaken awake. Groggily blinking, his vision cleared and he was looking into the smiling face of Sayf the nomad, showcasing his famously bad breath that could wilt flowers and cause even hardened soldiers to cry. Brasidas coughed. "Gods damn you, Sayf! What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I just thought you would like to know the big one is here." He said innocently, leaping back before Brasidas could swipe at him with a large fist. The Protos Kapetanos blinked and rubbed his eyes, before his mind jumped to the only conclusion there was. Tychon here, now? That was fast. The sun peeked through the windows in the room, but it was still quite angled, signifying the day was still very early. Considering he had fallen asleep just after dark, he had a full night's sleep. Hopefully the rest of the men and women did. 

Sayf and he stepped out of the commandeered home and onto the street, saluting the sentries set to guard him before they both mounted. Menelaus knickered, Brasidas smiling and patting his trusted steed before they kicked their mounts off and galloped towards the front gate, Sayf leading with his smaller mare. Many of the soldiers were still asleep, but the two could see some having already stirred and going about their duties. Once he made it to the edge of Arbela, he saw Phaedra and Eudoxia among a few other women, and pyres stacked up in great mounds along the flat ground below the slope, the fires just now beginning to burn as the bodies were stacked upon them. Brasidas saluted Phaedra when she looked his way, but otherwise they went about their own duties. 

To the north, a column marched like some fat snake over the land, rounding some of the deserted farmhouses a scant few miles away and making steady progress their way. The Commander and his nomad companion sent their horses down the decline, racing past the shrubs and fields of wheat and barley until they made it to the column of marching soldiers. At the vanguard of the line were the cataphracts, and at their fore was Tychon. 

"Brass!" Tychon called, his voice booming as the two rode up to him as he sent his horse forward. The beast was two hands taller than Menelaus, and it needed to be to carry Tychon. They said his family were descended from mountain giants. Tychon was the largest man Brasidas had even seen, close to nine feet in height and with a personality to match. He was as loyal as a hound and as fierce in battle as a lion. "Did we miss the fun?" 

"There's plenty more fun to be had, Tyke, unless I miss my guess." He said to his friend once they met on the road. They made quite the group; Sayf the small, Brasidas the tall, and Tychon the giant. "How did you get here so fast?" 

Tychon shook his head. "We didn't end up staying at Valkos. We had to move. We heard Georgicus had disappeared." He explained to Brasidas, and then glanced passed his friend. "Are those miravet warrior women?" He seemed confused, and Brasidas laughed. 

"Yes, old friend. So be nice."