Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 185

Chapter 185: The claw of an eagle(3) Chapter 185: The claw of an eagle(3) In the dimly lit chamber, Jasmine paced back and forth, her brow furrowed with frustration.

“Why the hell would the Empire send an envoy here,” she snapped, “when they’re tangled up in a three-sided civil war?Do they have time to fucking daze around?” Her voice echoed off the stone walls.

Alpheo, seated in a cushioned chair, calmly sipped his drink before answering.

“They’re obviously interested in our products,” he said, his tone measured.

“The timing might be odd, but the demand speaks for itself, anyone with any bit of brain understand their value .” Shahab, standing near the window with arms crossed, nodded thoughtfully.

“They’re likely trying to buy out our market,” he mused.

“Get a monopoly on the goods and control their distribution back in Romelia at least .” Jasmine stopped pacing, turning sharply to face them both.

“Well, they can go fuck themselves,” she said with an acidic edge to her voice.

Alpheo nearly choked, his drink shooting from his nose as he coughed and chuckled simultaneously.

Through fits of laughter, he finally managed, “It…

it might be better not to be so rash, Jasmine.” He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, still grinning.  Jasmine slammed her hand on the edge of the table, her eyes ablaze.

“Those products are mi-ours,” she declared firmly.

“Why should we hand them over so easily?” Alpheo leaned back in his chair, wiping the last of his laughter from his lips.

“Refusing them outright could lead to unforeseen consequences” he warned, his tone now serious.

“We don’t know what doors we might be closing.

It may seem like a small thing now, but in the future, it could cost us more than we expect.Too much greed only lead to one downfall” Jasmine scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Their backyard is on fire,” she countered sharply.

“They’re in the middle of a civil war.

They shouldn’t have time to worry about how green the grass is over here.” Shahab, ever the voice of reason, uncrossed his arms and stepped forward.

“That may be true,” he agreed.

“But we don’t know how long this chaos will last.

The tides of war can change swiftly, and the Empire, even in conflict, is still a force to be reckoned with, they would have no trouble raising an army of 10,000 .” Alpheo nodded thoughtfully.

“Exactly,” he said, gesturing for emphasis.

“It’s in our best interest to hear them out.

Get the best out of the situation while we still have the upper hand.

From what I’ve gathered, the current baby-emperor in the south is faring the worst in the conflict.

It’s to our advantage to help him just enough to keep the civil war dragging on.

After all,” he paused, locking eyes with Jasmine, “it’s better to have our powerful neighbor to the north tangled in their own problems while we grow stronger.” Jasmine’s eyes narrowed, her fingers drumming on the table.

“We could gain tens of thousands, just from their market in the north,” she mused, her gaze flickering with ambition.

Then she looked up at Alpheo, a sly smile curling on her lips.

“Or are you not confident enough to defeat whatever second-rate army those imperials can send our way?” Alpheo’s smile faded, his eyes hardening as he leaned forward.

“You’re letting greed cloud your judgment, so I am going to assume that what you just said was a fleeting thought,” he said, his voice steady but edged with warning.

“I have every confidence we can crush whatever peasant armies the empire’s princes might cobble together, but when it comes to the true imperial forces?

That’s an entirely different beast.I would be a fool and naive bastard to think otherwise.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

“The Empire’s most basic soldiers are equipped enough to actually challenge my men,” he continued, his tone now deadly serious.

“If we reach too high for the tallest apple, we risk slipping and falling into the mud.

Why risk everything, when there’s fruit already within our grasp?” His eyes held Jasmine’s, and for a moment the room seemed to still in the moment.

——————— Alpheo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

“Tell me, why should we purposefully cut our own feet?” he asked, his voice calm but firm.

“If we sell independently, we’ll gain far more in the long run, keeping control over every market we touch.

So, what would make us tie ourselves to just one buyer-no matter how prestigious?” Doria, unfazed by the resistance, smiled slightly.

“By doing this, you gain something much greater than just a single buyer,” he replied smoothly.

He let the silence hang in the air before continuing.

“You gain the friendship of the Emperor.” Alpheo’s brow furrowed, and he raised an eyebrow.

“And what, exactly, does that entail?” “A potential relation that goes beyond being simple neighbors ,” Doria said, his words measured and deliberate.

“With the Emperor on your side, there are benefits far beyond trade.

Protection.

Influence.

A stronger foothold in future dealings with us….” Alpheo leaned back, clearly thinking it over.

He couldn’t help but wonder what help the Empire could offer, with their armies currently marching north to fight against the rebels.

Their civil war was far from over, and the thought of aligning with a power that was so deeply entangled in its own struggles seemed…

useless.

Alpheo folded his arms, his gaze sharpening.

“I’ll sell you the rights to distribute our products in the Empire’s market,” he said, his voice steady, “but everything south of the Empire remains ours.

We won’t give up control of that.” Doria nodded smoothly, as if the concession was expected.

“That won’t be a problem,” he replied with a diplomatic smile.

“The Empire is most interested in ensuring its markets are well-supplied.

Your southern dealings can remain entirely in your hands, we have no interest on thsoe .” Leaning forward slightly, Doria added, “Perhaps now, we can begin discussing the prices.

I’m certain we can come to an arrangement that benefits us both.” His tone was confident yet cordial, as if this part of the negotiation was merely a formality.

Doria’s mind raced as Alpheo laid out his terms.

This is better than I thought, he mused, keeping his expression calm.

Securing a monopoly over the Empire’s market was a significant win, he expected more fraction in order to get that .

For now, just the empire market was enough.

Perhaps, once the Empire had regained its strength and stability, they could push for even more favorable terms.

Expansion could always come later, but today, this deal would provide the foothold they needed.

Alpheo leaned back in his chair, speaking firmly.

“I want 10 silverii a piece for soap, and 15 for the cider.” Doria raised an eyebrow, his tone measured but firm.

“The merchants who brought your products north were selling the soap for 8 silverii and the cider for 12.

That was the price the market set.” Alpheo smirked, as if anticipating the objection.

“That was because the products were still new to the market.

They didn’t know their real value yet.

Now that demand has skyrocketed, the prices will reflect that.

These goods have proven themselves.” Doria leaned forward slightly, a measured smile on his face.

“I understand you’re pricing these products for their value, your grace” he began, “but you should also consider the fact that we’re buying in bulk.

A steady, guaranteed market over a long period offers stability.If we choose prices too high , we might find that our customers would rather buy directly from the south for their private use.

It would be much more affordable for them, wouldn’t it?”  Alpheo said nothing , he just tilted his head, waiting for their counteroffer.

Doria didn’t flinch.

“Then I will make you an offer,” he said firmly.

” six silverii per piece of soap and 8 for each urn of cider.

For the first sale, we’ll purchase 350 pieces of soap and 200 urns of cider.” He paused, letting the terms sink in.

The room was quiet as Alpheo weighed the offer.

And as soon as opened his mouth to respond, he was interrupted by his companion .

“My apologies for his grace ,” Shahab said with a graceful bow of his head.

“Counting coppers is beneath all of us who stand on higher ground.Unfortunately, as you may know his grace’s birth did not allow him to be teached an higher form of behaviour ” His voice was calm, controlled, as though he had rehearsed this moment many times.

He turned his attention fully to Doria, offering a courteous smile.

“Your terms, sir Doria, are acceptable.

However,” Shahab paused, his words deliberate, “we would like to see something else added to the agreement.” As Shahab spoke, Doria noticed something-Shahab’s fleeting glance toward Alpheo, almost imperceptible, yet clear enough to raise Doria’s suspicions Doria sat back in his chair, a sense of satisfaction swelling within him.

Whatever happened , the terms he had secured were far better than he had expected, both highly advantageous and generous to the Empire.

His mission was more than accomplished.

With a polite smile, Doria gestured for Shahab to proceed, saying, “Please, go on and relay your request.” Shahab leaned slightly forward, his tone smooth yet businesslike.

“In return for accepting the terms you have graciously offered, we would ask for a discount on any future weapon sales that may be entertained between your Regent’s family and ours.” Doria’s eyebrows raised slightly in interest.

“And how much of a discount would you suggest?” Without hesitation, Shahab blurted out, “Sixty percent.” Doria paused, carefully keeping his expression measured.

Sixty percent was an absurd figure, one that would result in substantial losses for the Regent’s family.

“For such a discount,” Doria said evenly, “the Acheia family would encounter significant losses for any sale made with you.

” He leaned in slightly, his voice calm yet firm.

“I can, however, offer you a fifteen percent discount.

That, I assure you, is more than reasonable for both sides.” Shahab leaned forward, his expression polite but resolute.

“These terms, Sir Doria, weigh heavily in your favor.

While you take a great deal from us, what you return amounts to little more than crumbs.

How much weaponry could a small princedom like ours truly demand, after all?” He gestured vaguely, emphasizing the modesty of their needs.

“Forty percent,” Shahab proposed, his voice calm yet firm, as though the number were the most reasonable request in the world.

Doria, maintaining a calm demeanor, tilted his head slightly in consideration.

“Thirty percent,” he countered, his voice decisive yet courteous.

A moment of silence followed, a subtle exchange of glances between Shahab and Alpheo before Shahab nodded in agreement.

“Thirty percent it is, then.” The terms were settled, but Shahab had one more request.

“There is one more matter,” he said, his tone still measured but more pointed.

“We would prefer if twenty percent of the payment for the products were to be made in armor.” Doria raised an eyebrow slightly, curious but attentive.

“Armor?” “Chainmail,” Shahab clarified with a faint smile.

“We will need the best your blacksmiths can produce.Perhapse in the future we may decide to change it, however for now those would suffice” Doria gave a slow nod, he knew the current imperial coffers were light, so the fact that they could manage to pay with other means was beneficial to them .

It seemed both sides had secured what they desired, and the negotiation reached its close with a sense of quiet satisfaction.

Alpheo’s face remained serious, his expression betraying nothing more than the typical stoicism expected during negotiations.

It was as though he had just swallowed something bitter, his lips pressed tightly together, and his eyes fixed intently on Doria.

Anyone looking at him would think the terms had taken an unpleasant turn for him.

Yet, in his mind, Alpheo was cheering, his thoughts buzzing with excitement.

Finally, he thought, a solution to the problem that’s plagued me for months.

Acquiring weapons had been his greatest challenge, particularly due to the lack of iron mines in his wife’s lands .

No matter how many victories he led on the battlefield, securing the proper arms to sustain and expand their forces had been a near-impossible task, as the local production of weapons and armors was too low and shabby.

But now, with this deal, he had managed to secure exactly what he needed without raising suspicion.

Payment in chainmail was a masterstroke-it would supply him with armor to not only equip his current forces but to gift them to those he believed was necessary to arm for his future plans, as he knew the importance of creating proxy allies during a war.

Supplies that would be given to him , basically for free given the low cost to produce soap and the averagely medium for apple cider.

Outwardly, he remained still, serious, nodding along to Shahab’s final remarks.

But inside, he was celebrating.