Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 275

Chapter 275: Reporting Chapter 275: Reporting Alpheo sat at his desk in the workroom, the glow coming from the small window at his sides lightened the meticulous reports spread before him.

He leaned forward, his sharp eyes scanning the rows of numbers compiled by the treasury accountants.

The calculations were clear as soon as the army returned home 14,800 silverii had been spent on the soldiers’ pay that was owed at the end of the campaign.

The figure was staggering, but it was a necessity.

Warfare demanded discipline, and discipline demanded compensation.

Soldiers did not receive their salaries during a campaign, a policy Alpheo firmly upheld.

Transporting such vast amounts of silver was logistically burdensome and with high risk of losing them against enemy’s ambushes, not to mention the sheer amount of guards that would be needed to guard the money.

But there was a more calculated reason why general did not pay soldiers during campaign : soldiers with full pockets were more inclined to think of home, their minds wandering toward comfort and the temptation to desert.  Even a victorious army like that of Alpheo, after conquering Arduronaven experienced desertion, although the criminals were soon apprehended and nailed into trees, their shouts being the clearest warning to anyone that shared the same thought of going home before the prince’s permission.

This time, however, the campaign had been a financial success.

The Herculeian prince’s land had proven fruitful in plunder, yielding 19,000 silverii from the spoils of war.

The margin was modest given the expenditures , but it was a victory nonetheless.

Alpheo allowed himself a small smile, satisfied with the balancing act of costs and returns.

The loot after all not only covered the soldiers’ remuneration but also left a surplus to bolster the treasury Alpheo carefully flipped through another sheet of parchment, his gaze fixed on the columns of numbers that represented the expenditures of his private army.

The figure was worryingsome 6,000 denarii, a significant expense that weighed heavily on the overall budget.

He leaned back in his chair, his thoughts trailing to the contrast with the past.

Before his arrival, the entire annual income of the princedom under Arkwatt’s rule had been a meager 28,000 denarii.

At that rate, his private army alone, in just five months, would have consumed the equivalent of one full years of the old regime’s income.

It was an unsustainable model for a weaker state.

Now, however, things had changed.

Through his reforms, trade incentives, and territorial acquisitions, the princedom’s income had surged to 108,000 denarii annually, something that none could rebuke against him.

Yet, this success came with its challenges.

Of the increased revenue, 72,000 denarii were spent on the military alone.

The cost was staggering, but it ensured the security and expansion of his domain, while keeping the unruly nobility at bay, especially now that they just saw how strong their prince’s army truly was.

As he contemplated these numbers, a fragment of history came to mind.

At the peak of its power, the Roman Empire, with its vast territories and professional legions, had spent nearly half of its income on the military.

A sobering thought.

By comparison, Alpheo’s military expenditure ratio was even higher.  The thought brought a small smile to his lips,I pay more than the Roman ever did….

The Romans had used their armies not only to defend their empire but to enforce their rule, expand their borders.

His own princedom, though far smaller, followed a similar path.

Yet he knew very well that the only reason he could sustain this was for his trade income, which meant that he effectively was reliant on foreign markets to sustain his own, right now it wasn’t a problem , but who knew in the future if that would still be the case?

A sharp knock echoed through the room, interrupting Alpheo’s musings over the daunting figures before him.

He glanced up as Vrosk, the head of his guards, entered with his usual composed demeanor.

“Your Highness,” Vrosk announced, inclining his head slightly.

“Pontius has arrived and requests an audience.

He says he has a report to deliver.” Alpheo exhaled softly, a small sigh of mild irritation escaping his lips.

He leaned back in his chair, flipping the report he’d been reviewing toward the desk, the numbers no longer commanding his attention, as it now had to be reserved to the biggest bootlicker he had met in last years “Let him in,” Alpheo said with a resigned tone.

He folded his hands on the desk, steeling himself for what was likely to be an exhaustive update.

As Vrosk departed to fetch the engineer, Alpheo’s thoughts drifted briefly to the man.

Pontius, talented as he was, had his strings tied elsewhere-namely, the imperial court.

Alpheo was well aware of the correspondence Pontius maintained with the Romelian regent.

It wasn’t unexpected.

Spies and informants in court dealings were a matter of course, and Alpheo was no fool in thinking that Pontius would not have informed his past employer of his current one.

Still, Alpheo didn’t find it particularly troublesome, provided Pontius was kept away from the truly vital information.

In this instance, that meant keeping the engineer entirely unaware of the true income and expenditures of the princedom.  The door opened again, and Vrosk re-entered, ushering Pontius into the room.

The balding engineer stepped forward, bowing slightly in deference, his expression a mix of eagerness and self-importance.

Alpheo watched him approach, his face calm and unreadable, as he prepared to hear the man’s latest report.

Alpheo extended his hand toward the chair opposite his desk, a gesture of calm authority.

“Take a seat, Pontius,” he said, his voice steady and neutral.

Pontius, ever eager to present himself favorably, bowed his head slightly in gratitude.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he said, his tone measured but tinged with enthusiasm.

He smoothed the front of his tunic as he lowered himself onto the chair, taking care to maintain an air of respect.

Once settled, Pontius leaned forward slightly, his expression serious.

“I have come to report my findings regarding the field outside the city, Your Grace,” he began, his voice gaining a confident edge.

“The site has great potential, but there are some matters I believe require your attention.” Alpheo leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin, his gaze fixed on Pontius as he prepared to listen.

As he began his report with practiced confidence, his hands gesturing to emphasize his points.

“Your Grace,” he started, “the nearest river lies approximately nine kilometers from the city.

For the majority of that distance, a simple canal can be dug to direct the water toward us.

The terrain is manageable until we encounter a significant dislevel in height about midway through.” He paused briefly, adjusting his posture before continuing.

“At that point, we will need to construct elevated stone channels-pontini- as they are called .

These will bridge the uneven terrain and maintain the necessary gradient for the water to flow steadily.

Once we cross the missing ground , we can return to digging a standard trench to guide the water directly into the city.” Pontius’s enthusiasm grew as he elaborated.

“Of course, Your Grace, the city itself must be prepared to receive this water.

Reservoirs will need to be constructed, and we must establish a distribution network to ensure the it does not overflow during great rains.” Alpheo leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady as he asked, “How much time will you need to complete this project, Pontius?” Pontius rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the gears visibly turning in his mind.

“That depends, Your Grace, on the number of workers available and the budget allocated.

With sufficient resources, we can expedite the work significantly.” Alpheo nodded, his tone firm as he outlined his plan.

“You will be provided with 500 free-laborers which you can use however you like and 1,500 regular-workers.

For the budget, I am allotting you 20,000 silverii for materials and construction.

The payment for the workers will be accounted for separately by me .” Pontius blinked, then allowed a smile to curl at the corner of his lips.

“A most generous provision, Your Grace,” he said, visibly impressed as he feared that he would be working with a small budget given the provincial princedom he was now ruling .

After a brief pause to collect his thoughts, he continued, “We will need to prioritize the digging of the canals immediately, focusing the majority of our manpower on that before winter sets in.

Once the ground freezes, it will be impossible to make meaningful progress on the trenches.

At that point, we can shift our efforts to constructing the pontini, which will require a good deal of material, but that can proceed through the colder months.” Alpheo listened intently before asking, “How much time do you estimate will be needed to complete the entire project?” Pontius tilted his head, considering carefully.

“With these resources, I would estimate anywhere from eight months to a full year, depending on the weather and any unforeseen complications.Luckily the water will come from a river, as if it was from a mountain it would be much more difficult” Alpheo tapped his fingers on the desk, pondering the timeline.

After a moment, he nodded decisively.

“That is acceptable.

Begin immediately and ensure your plans remain within these constraints.

I expect regular updates.” Pontius straightened in his chair, his expression brimming with confidence.

“Your Grace,” he began, “I assure you, this aqueduct will be a marvel of ingenuity and functionality.

When it is complete, not only will it bring water to the city, but it will also wash away its stench-both figuratively and literally, after all I believe we both know the current state of the city….

” Alpheo leaned forward slightly, his voice measured but firm as he ignored the last remark.

“I expect nothing less than exemplary work, Pontius, especially given the amount of budget I am giving you” Pontius placed a hand over his chest, as if to swear a solemn oath.

“Your Grace, you have my word.

This will be a structure to rival any in the empire.

The people will sing your praises, and people will marvel at the transformation of your capital.”