The royal tent. Midnight.

Antigonus sits behind his desk in a golden chair. He studies some maps and writings. Silk whispering alert the King. A stealthy man enters the tent.

"Agathocles"

"My King"

"I have a mission. You will send two men, Egyptians. Their mission, to kill the Nubian pharaoh. Promise them untold riches if they succeed"

"So be it, my King"

"But, in case they are captured... Take this"

Antigonus hands him two papyrus.

"They are written in Egyptian, signed by the usurper Imhotep, the roll details how he plans to kill the Nubian and name himself the sole pharaoh. To support the story, shall the assassins be caught you shall hire them through a third, another Egyptian, who in turn will hire them in name of Imhotep. Thus even under torture the Nubian will think Imhotep tries to kill him"

"As you wish my King"

"We have succeed other times. Don't fail me"

"I won't"

"Also, speak with the captain, double the guard around me, by night and day. And send a companion to sleep in my own tent, similar to me in appearence, I'll sleep in a minor, secondary tent, indistinguishable from those of my soldier's. We must avoid the same tactic against us, even if my whole army sorrounds me"

The man disappears with another whisper of the tent's silk. And Antigonus looks as the flame on the oil lamp dances. He trusted his army, his men, but sometimes such measures were better, for all. Covered by the dark a companion, fair-haired and tall, as Antigonus, replaces him, while he enters another tent, small, surrounded by a thousand who look alike. Antigonus, even if pleasant, knew that cautious and humility were useful in war times.