Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 247

Chapter 247: Pacifying the region Chapter 247: Pacifying the region Two weeks had passed since the fall of Arduronaven and the execution of Lord Vroghios.

In those days, Alpheo had scarcely known rest.

From dawn until the darkest hours of night, he immersed himself in the colossal task of solidifying control over the region and dealing with the mess he had caused .

The weight of responsibility bore heavily on his shoulders, but the drive to complete what he had begun burned brighter.

Immediately following the city’s capture, Alpheo had divided his army into two forces, sending them to the keeps and strongholds of Vroghios’s sworn lords.

Their task was clear: extract oaths of loyalty to House Veloni-Isha or crush any defiance.

Letters had been sent ahead, each marked with Alpheo’s seal, offering terms of fealty quite lenient as they exempted them from paying any tax for one year before resuming the previous rate of tribute they yearly paid to their lord.

The first force, led by Shahab, achieved remarkable success.

Three of the five lords who had served Vroghios quickly swore their loyalty, accepting the terms presented to them without resistance.

With little more than a show of strength and diplomacy, and apparently the prestige that came from his house, Shahab managed to pacify the northern territories under Vroghios’s former dominion.

As a gesture of submission, these newly sworn lords offered men to Alpheo’s army.

While they were neither many nor well-equipped, they represented an acknowledgment of their allegiance.As soon as he received them Alpheo immediately got to work , equipping them with armor and weapons looted from the battlefield.

They were promptly integrated into Xanthios’s forces, where they were now undergoing rigorous training to prepare them for the subsequent march he planned as soon as the entire army converged back into the city.  The second army, under the command of Jarza and Asag, was tasked with securing the southern territories.

Their mission was met with mixed results.

The first of the two lordships they approached submitted without resistance, swearing fealty to Jasmine without hesitation.

The second, however, proved far more obstinate, perhapse feeling like he could get better terms .

Dismissing the army’s threats outright, the rebellious lord forced Jarza and Asag’s hand.

Without further delay, the castle was stormed, its defenses overwhelmed, and the lord taken captive as a hostage along with the whole family.

Alpheo read these details from the letter in his hands, his eyes scanning the neat script that described the campaign’s events.

He gave a soft hum of acknowledgment at the reported casualties-mercifully low, .

Satisfied, he carefully set the letter aside, his gaze briefly lingering on the lines detailing the capture of the rebellious lord.

Then, reaching for an empty parchment, he prepared to continue his work.

Regarding the lord’s fate, killing them was not a beneficial choice, as he feared that killing a member of nobility could set the precedent that any possible future captors would use to cut off Alpheo’s head if he were the one captured.Of course , Vroghios was an exception given his crimes, but generally, nobility did not outrightly kill each other , as they tended to treat war like a game.  Perhapse simply keeping them prisoners from life or forcing them to join the church is much better.He thought as he gave a little more thought to the case.

Following that Alpheo raised his eyes from the parchment, catching sight of Ratto, his young squire of eleven years, standing nearby.

The boy’s expression was a mix of curiosity and focus, his gaze fixed on another report-this one from the logistics head of the army.

“What does it say?” Alpheo asked, his voice calm  Ratto straightened, clearing his throat.

“Mostly complaints” he began, glancing back at the report.

“About the refugees.

They’re putting a strain on the stored food supplies, and it’s starting to show.

The provisions aren’t holding as well as we’d hoped.” Alpheo leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping against the wooden table as he hummed in thought, his expression thoughtful but not overly concerned.

His gaze drifted to the window, where the faint sounds of the camp outside carried on the wind.

Ratto, sensing his liege’s deliberation, ventured hesitantly, “What should I write in reply?” Alpheo glanced at the growing stack of parchments on his desk and sighed, running a hand through his dark hair.

The sheer weight of administrative tasks had been pressing down on him for days, and it showed in the faint shadows under his eyes.

Ratto stood by his side, a quill in hand, ready to serve as his helper once more.

Though only eleven, the boy had proven invaluable-not just as a squire, but as a capable assistant in matters requiring literacy and quick thinking.

It was a skill that even some of Alpheo’s most loyal retainers lacked, and one that he relied on heavily.

“Write this down, ” Alpheo said, his voice steady as he paced the room.

“Tell them we’re effectively dealing with it.” “‘Effectively dealing with it,'” Ratto repeated, dipping the quill into the ink and starting to scribble on the parchment.

“And?” Alpheo paused, looking out the window at the bustling camp outside.

“Add this-‘The problem won’t remain for long.

Measures are already being taken to ensure stability.Add some bullshits about praising his work and keeping up the good work and give it to me to sign it.” Ratto nodded, his tongue peeking out slightly in concentration as he carefully transcribed the words.

“Got it.

Anything else?” Alpheo shook his head and placed a hand briefly on the boy’s shoulder.

“That’s enough for now.

You’re doing well, Keep it up, you are of immense help to me right now.” Ratto grinned faintly, pleased by the praise.

Alpheo leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the reports spread across his desk.

The matter of the refugees was a thorn in his side-nearly two thousand displaced souls now reliant on his army’s supplies.

They were a burden that could not be ignored, yet one that he couldn’t allow to cripple his campaign for.

Of course, he was not one to let such issues fester without action.

Behind the scenes, Alpheo had already begun to weave a solution, deftly playing the ambitions of the young nobles around him.

With careful words and veiled promises, he had secured vocal commitments of aid for the refugees from their families The cost?

Small favors, really-trivial in Alpheo’s eyes.

Employing a handful of their sons or relatives in his court, granting them minor positions of honor, or promising fiefdoms in the form of modest villages by the campaign’s end.

Such concessions were of little consequence to him, especially compared to the relief it brought to his current predicament.

Alpheo tapped a quill against the edge of the desk, his smile fading into a knowing smirk.

He was well aware that most of the promises made by these young nobles amounted to little more than jack shit, as they had no real power back to their families.

The key lay in documentation. Letters were already being drafted-polite, formal, and unmistakably precise.

These missives would find their way to the families of those nobles, outlining the pledges made in their name and the “small” tasks they had agreed to undertake: namely, hosting a few hundred refugees and ensuring their care for a few months.

Of course, they could obviously refuse, such a modest request, which would mean publicly undermining their kin’s word.

However they also had to take into consideration who the sender was.

As these were not missives penned by some lowly court official or minor lord; they bore the seal and signature of their prince.

The man who had crushed the rival prince’s ambitions, quelled a rebellion that had simmered for over a decade and delivered the head of the infamous turncoat lord, Vroghios Agonaris.   A refusal to comply with a general so closely tied to the queen’s authority risked more than just dishonoring their family names; it could be seen as a failure to align with the crown while they were on the verge of success.

Among the more astute members of the nobility, there was an even deeper layer to consider.

They would recognize Alpheo’s letters as an olive branch extended to mend relations frayed by past slights.

Many of these nobles had sent only token contingents to support Alpheo’s campaign-small, poorly equipped forces, so this was their opportunity to realign once again with them.

Alpheo glanced at Ratto again, his voice calm but edged with frustration.

“Any word from Egil yet?” Ratto shuffled through the scattered parchments on the desk, his small hands moving quickly before pausing.

He looked up and shook his head.

“Nothing here.” Alpheo let out a long sigh, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the wooden surface.

“It’s been days since he disappeared without orders,” he muttered, the memory of Egil’s poorly written note resurfacing in his mind.

Scrawled hastily and barely legible, it had claimed he needed to reward his men with some pillaging-a justification that left much to be desired.

For a moment, Alpheo stared off into the distance, weighing his options.

If the situation were different, he thought bitterly, he wouldn’t hesitate to ride after Egil and drag him back by the ear like a misbehaving child.

But circumstances were rarely ideal.

Egil’s men had performed admirably in recent weeks, and Alpheo begrudgingly admitted that their loyalty might waver without some reward to placate them.

As much as he despised the lack of discipline, the crude plundering would have to suffice-at least for now.

 This hadn’t come out of nowhere, after all.

Egil had broached the idea of looting with him before, planting the seed in their earlier conversations.

Alpheo had deliberately delayed his answer, weighing the risks and optics, and clearly, Egil had taken that as tacit approval to act.

Still, there was one small mercy.

Egil wasn’t entirely reckless.

Alpheo took some comfort in knowing the man would know which villages to leave untouched, and which ones could be sacked without serious repercussions.

That, at least, spared Alpheo the additional headache of cleaning up a possible political mess as he had a further aim for this campaign,that casually entertained what Egil’s know and love best, pillaging and raiding the countryside.