Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 133

Chapter 133: A key to the city Chapter 133: A key to the city The second prince or for some others the emperor , Mavius, sat in the dimly lit tent, his tall frame draped lazily over a finely carved wooden chair.

The awfully now turning cold wind howled outside, but inside, the scent of spiced wine filled the air.

His hand curled around a silver goblet, sipping slowly from it as the dark liquid swirled with each motion.

His face, remained calm yet distant, as if the world outside his tent hardly touched him.For the last days he had only received bad news and his mood was consequently going down.

Lord Coway stood stiffly before him, his face lined with weariness.

The storms that they had attempted throughout the day had not been merciful.

“We lost 240 men in today’s assaults, Your Grace,” Coway said, his voice steady despite the grimness of the report.

“Another 120 are wounded, of which 40 are serious.

The healers are doing what they can, but…” he trailed off, knowing the prince would understand the gravity of the situation.

Mavius took another sip from his goblet, the wine warm against his lips.

He swirled it thoughtfully, letting Coway’s words settle.  He grunted softly, his expression unchanging as he set the cup down on a nearby table.

“240 dead,” he repeated, his voice low, almost to himself.

“And 40 unlikely to make it.” He leaned back in his chair, staring into the ground, there was no outburst, no fury-just a grunt, a sound that betrayed more frustration than anything Mavius reclined back in his chair,his brow furrowed and after a moment of tense silence, he spoke.

“How long have we been standing outside the God’s Nail now?” he asked, not turning to face Lord Coway.

Coway straightened, his expression still stern from the earlier report.

“Half a month, Your Grace,” he replied.

Mavius gave a bitter chuckle, shaking his head.

“Half a month…

and what do we have to show for it?

Nothing but dead men and sickness creeping through the camp.

All this time, all we’ve done is lose soldiers, lose supplies.

We’ve bled at least three thousand men, haven’t we?” Coway shifted uncomfortably but nodded.

“Yes, Your Grace.

Between the assaults on the walls, the disease, and the weather… the losses have been substantial.” Mavius clenched his jaw, but he managed to keep his temper in check, fingers gripping the stem of his goblet tighter as he took another long sip of wine.

He breathed out slowly, as if trying to control the seething irritation within.

“What of the southern lords?” he asked after a pause.

“The talks… how did they go?” Coway hesitated, his lips tightening.

“The southern lords, Your Grace, have been cordi-” The tent’s flap suddenly flew open, and Landoff strode .

Mavius glanced up, irritation flashing across his father in law’s face at the interruption.

“My prince,” Landoff began where Coway stopped “our messengers were not turned away…

but they received no promises either.

Most of the southern lords are waiting, watching the winds before they choose a side.” Mavius remained silent for a long moment, staring into his cup as if it might offer some answer.

Then he muttered, almost under his breath, “Traitors… all of them.” He lifted the goblet once more, taking another slow drink of wine, his mood darkening.

“Is there any good news to tell me?” His voice was low, controlled, but heavy with frustration.

“What of the men we sent inside the city?” Landoff, still standing at the entrance, shifted uncomfortably but stepped forward to speak.

“Some of the men inside have begun lending their ears to our offers, Your Grace.

Mostly lower officers, ones who are tired of the siege themselves.” Mavius finally looked up, his eyes narrowing as he studied Landoff’s face.

“And?

Did we buy them?” Landoff cleared his throat, measuring his words carefully.

“We’re in the process.

But their demands are…

considerable.

Some are asking for wealth beyond reason, while others-more boldly-are asking for small lordships in return for their cooperation.”  Promising land and titles to mere officers might destabilize the hierarchy,and even make some lords pout but…

desperate times demanded desperate measures.

After what felt like an eternity, Mavius finally looked up, a slow smile forming on his lips, though his eyes remained cold.

“If they want lordships, they will have them,” he said, his voice calm yet resolute.

“Promise them what they ask.

As long as they open the gates to me, they can have their little plots of land and call themselves lord for it.” Landoff shifted his weight, glancing briefly at the floor before meeting Mavius’ gaze again.

“The castle’s doors are defended day and night by a hundred men, Your Grace.

Even if we bribe the officers, breaching the gates won’t be simple.” Mavius snorted dismissively, swirling the wine in his cup.

“And they want land for simply offering lip service and surrender?

Are they cowards who expect lordships without spilling any blood?” Landoff hesitated but quickly replied, “Some of those officers have control over their soldiers and garrison a few towers along the walls.” Mavius fell into silence, tapping the side of his cup thoughtfully.

After a few moments, he spoke, his voice measured.

“If we can get our men inside those towers, we might have an easier time taking control of the walls from within.” Coway, standing by with his arms crossed, shook his head.

“The walls are watched day and night, Your Grace.

They’ll be expecting an attack.

We’ve thrown men at them for weeks to no avail.” Mavius’ eyes glinted with sharp determination.

“Which is exactly why it’s time to try something new.

No more battering our heads against their defenses.

We’ll make them open the gates from within.” He turned to Landoff, voice steady and commanding.

“Accept the deal.

But make it clear to those officers-they’ll have to let our men into the towers.

And once inside, their men will fight for us.” Landoff nodded, ready to obey, but Mavius held up a finger, thinking.

“Give them a good sum of coin, enough to bribe their underlings.

I want no loose tongues.

No rats to scurry to their superiors.” The prince leaned back, his eyes cold with resolve.

“This is how we win.

Quietly, from the inside.” Lord Coway’s face twisted with disdain as he spoke up.

“It’s dishonorable to grant land to turncloaks, Your Grace.

Rewarding treachery will only breed more of it.” Mavius, still holding his wine cup, arched a brow and leaned forward, his voice sharp.

“Then perhaps you have the ability to take the castle without losing half of our army, Coway?You think your chivalry will make the walls come down on their own?” His tone cut like a blade, and the room fell silent.

Coway, his jaw tightening, had no reply.

Satisfied with his silence, Mavius continued, his words measured but laced with frustration.

“From our last reports, there are at least 3,000 defenders inside that fortress, all well-armored and prepared.

And every day more lords arrive to bolster their garrison, our numbers meanwhile are just dropping down as the days pass.

Meanwhile, my older brother-” he spat the words, “-is off in Messenia, doing gods know what.

We have no idea when he’ll march toward us if they are victorious and even if they are not that bastard of Conte , refused our call to arms, who knows what is going on there?” Mavius’ gaze turned cold as he set his cup down on the table.

“Winter is coming,Lord Coway.

Our supplies dwindle with each passing day.

The snow will trap us before long, and many of my sword lords are already having second thoughts.

They want to return to their fiefs, to their families, before the cold sets in.” His fingers drummed on the table as he glanced toward the fading light outside.

“If we don’t act now, we’ll lose this siege to the winter or worse-my brother’s march.” The prince leaned back, eyes narrowing at Coway.

“So tell me, is it more dishonorable to offer land to those who would open the gates for us?

Or to return home, empty-handed, defeated, and shamed?” Coway remained silent, his earlier objection drowned by the hard reality laid out before him.

Mavius’ words hung in the air like a challenge no one dared to answer.

Mavius’s gaze was unrelenting as he leaned forward, voice dripping with mockery.

“Perhaps, Lord Coway, you’d like to prove me wrong?

Lead a night assault on the walls yourself, claim the glory with your own blade?

Who knows, the honor of taking the city might yet be yours.” Coway’s face darkened, and he took a deep breath before responding.

“There is no honor in leading a night attack, Your Grace.

It’s a desperate man’s tactic.” Mavius smiled coldly.

“Then the castle will fall without honor, Coway.

Simple as that.” He let the words linger in the air, his tone heavy with finality.

“But it will fall.” Without waiting for a retort, Mavius turned to Landoff, dismissing Coway with a flick of his gaze.

“What about you, Landoff?

Do you have men capable and willing to take on this ‘dishonorable’ task?

Perhaps they’d welcome the chance to carve their names into history.” Landoff, ever the dutiful soldier, bowed his head slightly.

“Any of them will do if ordered, Your Grace.

They are ready to serve.” Mavius nodded, pleased with the response.

“Good.

I have many hopes then.

Honor or not, they’ll have their chance to show their worth.” He sipped his wine again, eyes scanning the room.

“And we’ll see who returns with the keys to the city.” Landoff bowed low, his voice steady as he spoke.

“Perhaps, Your Grace, my nephew Willios would be honored to lead such an attack.

He’s been eager for a chance to prove his worth.” Mavius raised an eyebrow as the Willios he knew in parties did not strike him as a glory-hungry commander , but if his father in law suggested that then maybe he was wrong.  Nodding slowly as he considered the proposal, he gave his answer “If your nephew succeeds,” he said, his tone promising reward, “rich lands in the south will await him.

He’ll find his loyalty well-compensated.” Landoff straightened, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“I will relay His Majesty’s wishes at once.

Willios has been searching time and again for an opportunity like this to show his value to his new liege.” With that, Landoff bowed once more and swiftly exited the tent, eager to bring the news to his nephew, as he would finally have his chance to prove himself to his emperor.