Getting into the Imperial Palace was easier than Agusta Justinius and his Imperial Guard would like to believe. A guards eyes can be tricked or his mind can be slow. A good shadow can even work as well as a tunnel through the wall so long as you know when and where the guards are and go. Othya has slipped in and out of the Palace with never more than a squeak of a sandal or a ruffle of her dress. Today was no different.

Inside the Palace Othya walked through the halls with as much certainty that she belonged that no one cast a second glance her way. Through the twists and turns of the palace Othya weaved herself until she came upon the chambers of the Augusta. She hit the door in a distinct knock of two and one and waited.

“Enter!” Came a muffled voice.

Entering the grand room Othya found three women, two looking her way and one with her attention on stacks of parchment. They sat at the head of a long table that was littered with sealed scrolls and missives.

“Back so soon?” The youngest in the room, Theadora’s daughter Pheobe, asked.

Theadora looks up from her parchment to look at Othya and gives her a soft smile, “my favorite Daughter of Nyx has returned from her little indulgence at the execution grounds. Tell me, Othya, was it every bit as routine as the last time?”

“If the godesses were so kind,” Othya says grimly. “Two have escaped their fate, one of each Demes.”

“What?” The third woman, Valeria, spoke in disbelief. “How did that happen?”

“Rotten rope and the misplaced compassion of Christians,” Othya said. “Monks of Conan acted first and fast. They have swept the criminals away while they riled up the crowd of onlookers into a near riot.”

“Where have they gone?” Theadora asked in a calm and calculated manner.

“Their only option is to flee the city and sail across the Bosporus,” Othya said, “I have already sent an eye to search the Christian Temples to look for the Monks of Conan and the criminals.”

Theadora’s first show of anything besides calculation was a hiss of frustration. “Curse those fool priests. Though I assume there is more, you never come here with anything more than a hair out of place and now I see you with dirt on the hem of your dress, what is it?”

“The Demes meet and there's no discourse between them,” Othya said.

Valeria and Pheobe glanced at each other and then to Theadora. The woman seemed to have sank into herself in thought. She pressed her thumb nail against her lips as her eyes went unfocused. They recognized the look and feel that came over the Augusta, when ever she weaves her schemes she always seems to detach from everything. Like she was overlooking the world as rather to be a part of it.

“This could be a boon,” Theadora murmured, her eyes start to dart as if tracing threads in a great weave. “Politics have been slow in the need to appease the Demes. They fracture Constantinople as if two nations exist within and are on the precipice of war. Now they have common ground in the investment of the survival of some who are considered leaders. Othya, you dwell in the city, you are in the thick of all that moves within my city, what do you think will come of this?”

“Nothing good, my Augusta,” Othya said grimly with a shake of her head. “The only reason that the Demes system works is that they are divided. If they stop fighting for long enough they could begin to think that they have more power than is healthy for them. They might think of themselves as equal to the Senitori or the Augustus, when they do not know how to rule an Empire.”

Theadora's eyes begin to dart again as new threads appear to her from the information Othya provides. In her mind plans come to being and run their course until failure and a new one comes into existence with the previous failure planned for. Contingencies are made in her mind and reserve plans devised.

“Thoughts on destroying the moral of the Demes?” Theadora asked.

“It would allow for a greater freedom to actually rule and govern without having to worry about the tinder beneath our feet. If it is possible it should be done,” Pheobe said. “They are a subject of chaos within our walls and should not have been allowed to grow to this point. Though we have always cleaning up the messes of incompetent men of years passed since little Justinius came to power, this is just one more to squash under our heels.”

“I agree with Phoebe,” Valeria said. “The last riot shows that Justinius’s favoritism has gone to their heads. They are beginning to think of themselves as above the law, that they truly rule the city. The only saving grace has been the Greens and Blues being at odds with each other. If they make peace now then we might be looking at a full revolt.”

“It would take time though,” Othya said. “They would need to make a structure that would allow them to share their resources. They would need more than sticks and knives for a revolt. If left alone for too long then they will arm themselves and there will be an army within our walls. It would be better to light the fire now while it's fuel is still green and few so it can be snuffed out quickly.”

“I assume you have already made moves to this goal?” Theadora asked Othya.

“I have sent word to both Zenobia and the Scythian,” Othya told her. “The Daughters of Artemis and the Daughters of Athena should be on alert.”

“Good,” Theadora nodded.

A quiet fell over the four women as the possible end result of this event became more apparent. It was the youngest, Pheobe, that spoke first, “does this mean… Could this end up like the stories, Mater?”

Theadora smiled and gave her daughter a slight smile, “it could. This could very well mean the return of Themyscira, the Amazon, we could have a real home again.”