Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 272

Chapter 272: A long way Chapter 272: A long way Prince Alpheo had waited far too long for this moment.

Since the day the notion of taking over the princedom had first planted itself in his mind right after he had killed Arkwatt , it had grown into a fervent belief that reform-both administrative and political-was not only necessary but inevitable.

The princedom, with its patchwork of outdated customs and fractured authority, had always struck him as an unwieldy relic.

His vision, bold and clear, demanded an overhaul.

But the timing had never been right.

First, there had been Ormund’s rebellion, a mostly short conflict, but one that required his attention nonetheless.

No ruler could afford to dream of reforms while the very foundations of his rule were under attack.

Then, barely had the dust settled from that uprising when the Herculeian Prince had insulted them , forcing Alpheo to abandon all other considerations in the pursuit of a war of honor, something that ironically he did not give a shit about For years, one crisis followed another.

Each battle, negotiation, and uneasy truce seemed to push his ambitions further into the shadows.

And yet, the idea persisted, burning brightly in the back of his mind.

He carried it with him like a secret talisman, knowing its time would come.

Now, at last, the horizon was clear.

Peace, hard-won and tenuous though it might be, was ahead of them.

The Herculeian threat was no longer imminent, and the chaos of rebellion was but a distant memory.

Alpheo could finally turn his attention inward, away from swords and shields, and toward quills and ledgers.

He finally received Jasmine’s approval to begin the long-anticipated recruitment process for the new administrative body.

With her consent, he wasted no time in setting the wheels in motion, disseminating information about the effort to merchants in the capital.

He believed they would eagerly seize the opportunity to secure employment within the court.

After all, service to the crown was not only prestigious but also profitable, a way to climb the social ladder for families that had long thrived in commerce.

Alpheo had also considered another potential pool of recruits: the second and third sons of knights.

These younger scions, often overlooked in inheritance and overshadowed by their elder brothers, were usually given little more than a horse, armor, and vague encouragement to seek their fortunes.

Alpheo imagined they might welcome the chance to work for the court, particularly in administrative roles that offered stability and stature.

Unfortunately, their numbers were disappointingly small, and they often resisted positions unrelated to the military.

A desk and quill could hardly compete with the allure of swordplay and adventure for most of them.

This left Alpheo to rely far more than he had anticipated on the sons of merchants.

While these young men lacked the martial traditions of knightly families, they possessed one invaluable advantage: literacy.

They had grown up around ledgers, contracts, and negotiation tables, making them ideally suited to the bureaucratic demands of Alpheo’s reforms.

It was a practical compromise, and one he reluctantly accepted as necessary.

If the knights’ sons preferred warhorses to paperwork, then the merchant class would serve as the backbone of his budding administration.

Alpheo had briefly entertained the notion of charging a fee for these positions-a way to draw funds directly from the aspiring recruits or their families.

It would have been easy enough to justify; as they were commoners after all, and the roles he offered carried prestige and access to the corridors of power.

Many families would likely pay handsomely for such opportunities.

But the idea was quickly discarded.

Alpheo understood too well the dangers it posed, as he was no fan of the idea of selling positions,something that plagued great empires, like the eastern roman empire during the middle ages.

It wasn’t as though he needed the money.

The princedom’s coffers, bolstered by recent victories and spoils of war, were more than sufficient to fund the recruitment and establishment of a capable bureaucracy.

His focus was not on short-term gains but on building a foundation that would stand the test of time.

Right now Alpheo stood in his chambers, the day had finally arrived.

His mind, usually sharp and ordered, now swirled with something akin to relief, as if seeing a man arriving with a bucket while your hand is on fire.  At his side, Ratto stood at attention, his slight figure unobtrusive yet always present when needed.

With his sharp eyes and quiet demeanor, he was as much a shadow to the man, always at his side as much as he was still young and eager to learn as much as he could.

“The guests have already arrived” Ratto informed him, his voice calm and measured.

He stepped forward slightly, hands clasped behind his back.

Alpheo turned to face him, the faintest trace of a smile brushing his lips.

“Thank you, Ratto,” he said, his words sincere but distracted.

His gaze, however, lingered on Ratto longer than usual.

His eyes narrowed slightly as though trying to parse something unspoken.

Ratto shifted slightly under the weight of the prince’s scrutiny.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, his tone carrying just a hint of unease.

Alpheo’s gaze lingered on Ratto for a moment longer before he spoke, his tone calm yet deliberate.

“How old are you, Ratto?”  Ratto straightened his posture instantly, as if the question itself was a summons to attention.

“Twelve” he replied crisply, his words almost mechanical but infused with pride.

Alpheo nodded slightly, the answer aligning with what he already knew.

At twelve years old, Ratto had proven himself more than capable in many ways.

He already knew how to write and read-something that one person in high command still refused to learn .

His training with weapons was sufficient for someone his age..

“It’s time,” Alpheo said, his voice firm, “that you learn on how to properly ride and fight on horseback.” Ratto’s eyes widened slightly, his composed demeanor giving way to a rare moment of unguarded excitement, it was every boy dream to be a knight after all , and a knight always fought on horseback.

He didn’t say anything immediately, but his hands twitched faintly as if suppressing the urge to fidget.

Alpheo leaned back slightly, folding his arms as he continued, “Tomorrow, I’ll speak with Sir Egil and inform him of my decision.

You’ll follow him for a time, learn from him, until he deems you good enough.

At that point, we’ll shift your training once again.” Ratto’s excitement was barely restrained now, his face lighting up as he bowed slightly, his voice brimming with gratitude.

“Thank you, Alpheo .

Truly..” Alpheo allowed himself a small, approving smile as he rose from his seat.

The boy’s enthusiasm was infectious, and it reassured him that his trust was well-placed.

“Good,” Alpheo said simply, his voice steady but tinged with warmth.

He adjusted the folds of his tunic and began to move toward the door, his thoughts already turning to the matters ahead.

It was time to meet the men and women who would form the foundation of his fledgling bureaucracy.

As Alpheo glanced back at Ratto, his eyes caught the familiar dagger strapped to the boy’s side-the same one he had given him on the day they first met, ugly as he remembered it to be .

The sight stirred a small, fleeting smile on Alpheo’s lips, a quiet acknowledgment of how far the boy had come since then.

Without a word, he turned away and walked forward, stepping out of the room .

——— The hall was a grand space, with high vaulted ceilings and an air of solemnity.

Alpheo stood near the entrance, his eyes scanning the crowd of roughly one hundred applicants gathered for the examination.

The merchants’ sons, as no knight were requested to take the test given thier nobility, stood out like gaudy roosters in a barnyard.

Their brightly colored hats and silk garments, clearly chosen to display wealth and status, instead gave them an air of nervous flamboyance.

The rich fabrics shimmered under the hall’s light, but the anxious glances they exchanged undercut any pretense of confidence.

They shifted uncomfortably in their fine shoes, clearly unused by the place.

Alpheo’s lips curled faintly in amusement.

The ostentation was almost comical, but he understood their motives.

These young men were trying their best to impress, to look the part of someone worthy of a position in his nascent bureaucracy.  Alpheo stepped into the room with an air of quiet authority, flanked by five of his guards.

The solid steps of the armored men echoed off the walls, drawing the attention of everyone present.

The examiners, seated at long tables laden with quills, inkpots, and parchment, turned to observe the unexpected arrival.

For a moment, confusion clouded their faces.

They exchanged glances, wondering if this was some minor noble , given the guards trailing behind him.

But then, recognition flickered among a few of them.

Whispers began to ripple through the hall as some examiners who recognized him from the military parade on his return leaned toward each other, murmuring, “That’s the prince” Their eyes widened as they connected the youthful face before them with the storied reputation of the man who had led armies, subjugated rebellion, and vanquished the Herculeian prince, called by some the War-Prince.

Most of the room was visibly taken aback.

Alpheo’s youthful, almost boyish face stood in stark contrast to the image of a hardened warrior they had conjured in their minds.  Alpheo stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over the room of applicants.

He paused briefly, allowing the murmurs to settle before addressing the gathered group in a steady, commanding voice.

“Welcome.

Each of you has come here today with the hope of serving the court and the realm of Yarzat, something that is both honorable and glorious.

The tasks ahead , and I am not speaking about your exam ,will require patience, diligence, and above all integrity of the soul.

Today marks the beginning of a journey, one that will help shape the future of this princedom.

Prove yourself worthy of this calling, and you will be rewarded with the trust and responsibility of aiding in the governance of our lands.

I wish you all the best of luck.

Work hard, and show us what you are capable of.” He gave a firm nod, his gaze briefly meeting those of a few applicants before turning to leave.

His guards followed closely behind, their armor clinking faintly in the silence he left in his wake.

As Alpheo walked down the hall, his thoughts lingered on the candidates behind him.

Soon, he thought, these individuals-awkward merchants’ sons and nervously posturing hopefuls-would grow into the pillars on which the state would stand.

They would carry out the administration, maintain order, and implement the reforms he had long envisioned, as many times the work of many was much more efficient than those of the few…