Evening was soon approaching, and so were a large group of oxfolk. There were perhaps close to forty of them, almost matching how many were in Ares’ company.

They charged towards him and Ares raised a hand for his own troop to stop, waiting until the oxfolk had appeared. As they neared they eventually slowed down. They were armed with thick furs and leathers, large spears in hand, and a leather cap designed specifically around their horns.

The oxfolk ahead was about to open her mouth to spoke, but then she saw Torak and she quickly shut her mouth. She bowed her head and then looked back to Ares and Rori, narrowing her eyes. “It is good to see you all are safe, what brings you here?” She asked.

“I received your message.” Ares replied with a sour smile on his face.

“Our message?”

Ares glanced towards Rori and then nodded towards her. “I need to speak with a Horn, Sohka preferably.”

She remained silent for a moment as she mulled over the words before nodding her head. “Very well.” The oxfolk then surrounded the group and escorted them over towards the hill. Atop the hill were hundreds of tents and fires that twinkled like stars.

As they finally approached the summit, Ares stopped to see the giant mass of oxfolk. Even though it wasn’t his first time seeing such a thing, he couldn’t help but be mesmerised by it once more. He could see the thousands of oxfolk grouped together, eating and dancing, though most were armed and equipped with some form of armour. He noted a lack of children, though there were quite a few that certainly seemed like they were wanting more.

His gaze then fell on a familiar face, an older oxfolk that was riding a large oxen towards him. They looked as though they had gained some youth within their face, and their body was fuller since last they saw one another, though then again, Ares also looked quite different.

“Sohka, it’s good to see you again.” Ares reached out to shake the old man’s forearm once they had hopped off their oxen.

“It is good to see you as well, Ares.” They shook their arms. “What brings you here?”

“You didn’t send a message?”

“A message? No.”

“An oxen found it’s way to the base of the mountain with a dead oxfolk on top. He had a large number of arrows all over him, so I rushed over here.”

“A dead rider on an oxen?” Sohka nodded their head. “Yes. A few of our men had gone missing…” They grew silent for a moment. “The humans are so close?”

“You’ll probably see them in the morning, they’re probably camping to gather themselves.”

“We heard there was a sea of them.”

“Yeah, it’s no joke. There’s probably twenty something thousand of them. There’s probably a few more of you though.”

“Our people have not seen war for some time.”

“Yeah, no doubt. We had to deal with a little ourselves. Well since we’re here anyway, we may as well help out.”

“You would be willing to do so?”

Ares looked back to the Marching Blades. Around half of them were made up of oxfolk. He looked back to Sohka. “I came because I thought you needed my help. Whether or not you actually asked for it, well, that’s not really relevant. You have my sword. Rather, my spear.”

“It would be good to have you.” Sohka bowed their head. “However, I would like for you to protect the Hill Above.”

“Hill Above?”

“Indeed. It is currently being protected by Horn Morak, but I would be even further at peace if you were also there.”

“Sure, leave it to me. Where is it?”

Sohka motioned with a hand. “To the North. Torak will be able to lead you.”

“Alright. It was nice seeing you.”

“I apologise for not being able to host you myself, but these are desperate times.”

“No, think nothing of it. We can chat later, when you’re done with those fools.” Ares waved as a few oxfolk then surrounded his troop once more.

Rori stopped Ares. “I wish to remain here, if it is alright. I will join you in some time, I wish to speak with the Horn.” Sohka had just climbed onto their oxen, though made no move.

“You don’t have to ask me.” Ares chuckled. “You’re my Consul, aren’t you?” Ares waved a hand at them. “Alright. I’ll go with Torak then. The Marching Blades can stay here with you, it’s their job to protect you.” Ares waved them off as Rori had them salute him. Ares turned a little red, a warm, fuzzy feeling filled his stomach. “Man, that’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Is that what revenge is like?” Torak joked and Ares laughed as they were led North, given oxen to ride so they could move swiftly.

They saw the large host of oxfolk sitting at the base of the mountain, eating and dancing and singing. Every single oxfolk was an adult, or at least a young adult, donned with pieces of heavy fur as well as carrying with them a weapon of some kind. Yet it didn’t seem to be something uniform. Ares wondered how well they would do against the humans who probably have conquered many regions through various tactics, and whether or not Ares could actually do much to help them.

A few oxfolk came over to come and meet them, but when they saw Torak, they instantly relaxed and welcomed him. They eyed Ares up a little confused for a moment before their brows raised and they bowed their heads to him too. Ares waved a hand as Morak rode over to come and meet them.

“What are you do-” Morak froze on the spot in utter surprise when they saw their father and then hopped off of their oxenfolk and met Torak, who had hopped over their own oxen, and embraced one another.

“I see you are doing well, the clan has yet to enter the dark plains.” Torak laughed as they then shook each other’s forearms.

“I may be new, but I am your son after all.”

“I’m glad you are doing well.”

“You as well, father. What are you doing here?” Morak asked as they then looked over to Ares, who had managed to get off his own oxfolk and was currently brushing it. “Who is…” They paused and then stared at Ares, narrowing their eyes. “Ares.”

“It’s good to see you too, Morak.” Ares walked over, eyeing the area up as he reached over to clasp Morak’s arm, who allowed him to do such a thing. “Looks like Torak was right to leave the tribe to you.” Ares chuckled. “How have you been?”

“Well.” Morak replied, hesitant to respond much more.

“I heard that you guys were having a little trouble so I thought I’d pop my head in to check to see how everything was going. Seeing as Torak was heading here anyhow, I thought I may as well see to it that he was safe and sound too.”

Torak chuckled and then began to explain his reason to visit, and Morak listened patiently to their father before nodding and then leading them towards the fires nearby. He offered Torak a seat and then Ares before taking his own, offering up a pair of bowls for each. He poured some food in for Torak and then paused for Ares, who then reached out his own bowl and allowed Morak to pour in some food for him.

“Thank you.” Ares bowed his head and then sipped on the soup, trying to remain as relaxed as he could. However, these were the oxfolk loyal to Morak moreover than himself. He trusted in Torak to keep him safe, there was no need to have them go at each other’s throats. Plus, Ares was no longer a chief of a village, he was a King. A King held many responsibilities now, much more than any chief. Or rather, the responsibilities were the same, but it was a question of scale.

Torak began to speak to Morak about all the things that had happened, and what Ares had gotten up to. Torak had been protecting Runar, the child that Ares had adopted, so was unable to have some fun like the others had. However, he gave his best recollection of Ares’ feats as well as the rather interesting things he had been up to. Morak’s face seemed to darken throughout the conversation before he then glared at Ares.

“You have left my father to look after children whilst you went out to gain honours for yourself?” Morak’s voice was laced with venom, and it had been a while since Ares had last heard such a thing.

“You are looking at this from a certain lens, a lens that is rather poorly thought out.” Ares replied simply. “Though I cannot blame you for such thoughts, perhaps I too would be angry if I were in your position.” Ares then took another long sip of his soup. “There is no greater honour in my tribe than to look after my children. I have asked your father for such a thing because he holds many qualities. One of them is strength, and the other is that I trust him. If you possess both of these things, and the right amount of such things, then I will give you the greatest honour that I can possibly give you. To look after my children, to protect and to teach them so that they will grow up to look after your children and grandchildren rightly. What is a greater honour in life than to be a good father or mother?” Ares asked as he stared at Morak. “Tell me, would you have asked for a different father or mentor figure?”

“No, I wouldn’t have.”

“Then why would I deprive my children of such a thing?” Ares asked as he then finished his soup. “The soup was delicious, thank you. I think that I shall take a walk and leave the two of you to catch up and speak with one another, I’m sure you both have much to say to one another.” Ares said as he stood up and then stretched.

Morak grunted something and two oxfolk stepped on either side of Ares. “They will escort you around the place.”

“Escorts? I don’t really need such things, though I thank you for your care.”

“It is a dangerous time. There is an entire human army coming to attack us.”

“I suppose the humans do need a little help if I come across them.” Ares joked and then laughed. He then waved at Torak. “Don’t have too much fun that you want to leave Rivea behind.” Then with that he left the pair to chat with one another. The pair of oxfolk that had flanked him were both topless men, the oxenblut of Morak no doubt.

Ares walked out to the fields where he had ridden the oxfolk to arrive. Then he turned and looked at the scene ahead. The oxfolk had taken refuge further in no doubt, where as Morak was protecting them from the base of the mountain path. It seemed similar to the mountain path that led up to the city of Rivea, a choke point they could abuse. Ares wondered how many men they needed in reality to defend such a place.

“Is this the only entrance to the area where the other oxfolk reside?”

“It is.” One replied sternly.

“Hmm. So this it the only place that needs defending.” Ares mused allowed. “Have you thought about making it difficult for the human army to assault the single path?”

“We are the difficulty.”

“I didn’t mean by your body, I mean by shaping the area around it further.”

The oxfolk did not reply and Ares took that as an answer. He paused and thought about it for some time and then he began to pace, trying to think about how he would need to shape the land.

“How many archers do you have at your dispo-… at hand?” Ares glanced to the oxenblut.

“Enough.”

Ares looked up. “Let us imagine a path going from left to right from this point to that point.” Ares pointed and created a line that would be about twenty oxfolk wide if they were to stand fairly close to one another, or at least that was his estimate. “Could you field about ten rows of such?”

“Perhaps we could.”

Ares nodded. “Then perhaps no human will ever set foot beyond the mountain pass.” Ares smiled. It was not a smile of malice, nor a smile of innocence. It was a smile of one that would be able to protect those closest to him with the minimal of damage inflicted upon them.

Then he walked towards Morak, though stayed at some distance as he hummed, trying to formulate a proper plan and in order to convince Morak of it. That would be the most difficult part, after all.