Now when the little children where hurried up to the palace of the king at the top of a hill overlooking the Spartan plain that cold winter's night, Vyakles was brought to his knees with all they relayed to him the absolute terror they encountered. So it came to pass, through streams of their warm tears staining their cheeks as held them in his arms, they told him all. The mind of the king became like the troubled seas, without peace or rest, churning up dark thoughts of rage, the pulse of his blood quickening in his veins as he listened in horror, along with his most trusted Generals. The call to arms was sent out by Vyakles as he ordered the Council of War to be summoned, yet before his councilors could even be called to council, in the din of this troubled year, three more reports came from cities allied with Athens and Sparta as well. Phillip had sent out his troops to destroy a few of the towns of the Peloponnese who were supported and protected by Athens and Sparta whom had become allies after the Battle of Leuctra. It was Phillip's father whom had began an alliance with Thebes to rule the Peloponnese and they were successful 20 years ago at defeating the Spartans and the Athenians, however, due to their complete lack of knowledge and ignorance on the running and proper ruling of an empire this led them to a state of incompetency and rampant misappropriation of money, gold and property; which led to infighting and allowed Sparta and Athens through their own peace accord to take back control of the region. Until now, when their lands were swept into chaos by Phillip the Firsts son, who was now at this very hour relaxing back in Thebes delighting in the tales his soldiers told of the blood and carnage.
When the plans for the attack on Thebes were set the king returned to his bed to rest for one last nights sleep before he would arise and prepare for battle, and much came to his mind as he lay there, alone as usual. For after the death of his beloved wife, and Queen, Thera he had not cared to take another wife. He thought of his children the daughter and son of Thera, their beloved mother, murdered by the traitor Odessa when the twins were but five. He had raised them up to be strong and brave, like their mother. He would join his son, Tharakles and his daughter, Sparta in battle on the morrow. This would be the fifth time they would go out and fight together against the enemies of the kingdom. With Vyakles leading the Phalanx, Therakles serving under him, and Sparta serving as one of his finest officers in the cavalry. They had both made him so proud graduating from the military academy, excelling at their studies of history and languages, music and poetry a prouder father there could not be, and with this knowledge he was well pleased, but still he took no comfort as his mind was filled with gruesome imagery of the massacre at Thespiae as recanted by the only living witnesses to the atrocity. There was much on the mind of King Vyakles for he had ruled now for nearly thirty years. A young man the age 35 when he was crowned before the people, now in his late-fifties the aches and pains he suffered with in his back, his shoulders and his knees were warning signs that he himself was past his prime fighting years, he knew it was not a good idea for him to go out and make war, but go out he must, in the defense of his nation, for the sake of his people. He had prepared his soul long ago to suffer the consequence of battle in service to his country.Yet on this night, betrayed by sleep, which would not visit him, as he sent up prayers to his gods and goddesses for guidance and protection, he felt deep within his heart that perhaps this might very well be his last chance to fight. To die on the field of battle with his sword and shield in hand was the ultimate sacrifice Vyakles could make in service to his beloved people all in the name of Unity, Loyalty, Respect and Honor.
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