The messenger's horse galloped into town and up to the building which holds the King's council chambers like it knew where the messenger needed to go, and it was right. As well it might be, the path (not a road mind you, merely a trampled place in the dirt at times) was well traveled. The messenger could barely sit the saddle after pounding most of the way across the continent on a series of the fastest horses available. The message was urgent, and although horses are too valuable to run to death, the same can not be said for messengers. The horse tossed his head, irritated at the messenger's slowness in dismounting. "Easy boy," said the messenger, "I just needed to gather myself a bit". He slid from the saddle and nearly collapsed, but kept his footing and stumbled toward the council chamber. As he neared the King he paused, gathered his reserves of strength, and straitened himself. He then bowed and approached. "Sire, I bring you urgent news from Kassite! An emissary of another people swam across the channel west of the city with greetings from their leader. His name is Augustus Caesar, and his people call themselves the Incans. He offered a treaty of open borders, which your representative in Kassite accepted on your behalf." Then looking a bit pale, he asked the King's leave to rest a bit while the council pondered the possibilities of trading with these Incans, promising to deliver the reply message, perhaps at a more dignified and comfortable pace.