Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 399

Chapter 399: Sea People(1) Chapter 399: Sea People(1) Two young men lay flat on their stomachs atop a small, grassy ridge, hidden among the tall, swaying blades that whispered with the evening breeze.

From their vantage point, they had an unobstructed view of the the sea-people below .

They could not believe that it could be possible to move through the sea , yet the sight was ahead of them.

Great wooden beasts floated upon the water, their pale, square skins catching the wind, and from them had spilled dozens of men, busying themselves with strange tasks.

Some dug into the earth, marking the land in neat lines, while others hacked away at trees, their sharp tools biting into the trunks with brutal efficiency that they had never seen.Those same trunks being now nailed onto the ground as if they were tree in a forest.  Jandari’s dark eyes narrowed as he glanced at Torghan, his curiosity turning into something sharper.

“You think they come for war?” Torghan studied the sea-people for a few moments, his gaze calculating.

“They don’t have enough numbers for that.

If they came armed for battle, they’d be dead before they even knew what hit them.

We outnumber them twenty to one.” But Jandari wasn’t so sure.

“Perhaps there are others that are comin-?” Suddenly, however his sharp eyes scanned the movement below, and then, he saw it-a flash of light, a glint of something unnatural among the people.

It wasn’t water that shimmered but metal-the shining plates of steel of the soldiers there, gleaming with the light of the setting sun.

His heartbeat quickened as he focused on the sight.

There was something more here than mere numbers.

“They wear iron,” Jandari murmured, his voice low, his words laced with a strange hunger.

“Like your father.” Torghan’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he observed the group below.

“I see it.” He was quieter now, a shadow falling over his expression.

“They must be from outside the mountains.” “Thrazanie?” Jandari asked, his brow furrowing.

Torghan shook his head, slowly, the weight of his thoughts settling in.

“No.

Similar, but not them.

The Thrazanie come through the mountain passes with their mules and wagons.

These…

these ones came from the sea.” Jandari tilted his head, his fingers brushing the grass as he shifted his weight, getting comfortable on the ground.

His voice lowered, laced with a sudden intensity.

“Then perhaps your father should call the warriors.” Torghan’s frown deepened, the suggestion not sitting well with him.

“For what?” Jandari’s eyes gleamed with excitement, his words quickening, spilling out in a rush.

“That steel!

Think of it.

If we had that, we could take back the hills, drive the Jagothai out.

Our people would have something to fight with, something that doesn’t break or bend after a few uses.” Torghan exhaled sharply through his nose, turning his gaze back to the scene below, watching the sea-people move with their gleaming armor.

The weight of Jandari’s words sank in, the sheer amount of steel they had-more than his father’s warriors had ever dreamed of.

Jandari wasn’t done.

He pushed further, his voice a low whisper now, filled with urgency.

“Our fathers fight with old leather, bent spears, and chipped blades.

But if we had that steel, Torghan, we wouldn’t have to hide in these mountains, feeding our families on scraps.

We could drive out the Jagothai, reclaim the hills and their pastures for our cattle.” Torghan stared at the camp below, his thoughts churning.

It wasn’t a decision that was his to make; after all, he wasn’t the leader of the tribe; his father was.

He let out a slow breath, a decision forming.

“We should go back and inform my father of what we saw.

He’ll be the one to decide.” Jandari nodded eagerly, his face lighting up.

“Let’s go, then.

Before the sun sinks completely.

The sooner we tell him, the sooner we might take that steel for ourselves” And with that, the two of them rose, the weight of their words hanging in the air between them as they made their way back-toward decisions that could change everything.

————– It was going to be a hard winter, of that Varaku was certain.

The air had already turned biting, a cruel reminder of the long months ahead.

The wind howled through the barren hills, sweeping across the land where his people had once lived freely, grazing their herds on the fertile grass of the high pastures.

But now, those hills were no longer theirs.

The livestock had been halved-both from the harsh sales he’d been forced to make to be leased enough pastures where they could feed.

Last year had been bad enough, when they still held their hills, still had double the herds, but this year?

This year, everything was different.

Varaku could feel the weight of what was coming.

HWithout the hills, without enough food, many of them wouldn’t make it through the winter.

He had no illusions about it.

He knew many of his people would die.

The decision that lay ahead-the only way to feed the rest of them-was to slaughter what remained of their herd.

But even that came with a terrible cost.

If they butchered the last of the goats, they would have nothing left to feed them in the coming months.

It wasn’t just the winter they had to worry about; it was every season after that.

There was also the old tradition, the ritual of the cliff-walk, where the elders chose to leave the world in their own way rather than suffer through a slow and painful decline.

But even that was no guarantee.

He could call for the walk, yes, but it wouldn’t change what was coming.

The herd was already too small, the land too harsh for grass .

It wouldn’t save them, not for long.

It was a horrible thing to know what would happen, to understand the bleakness of the future, and yet feel powerless to stop it.

As the elder, it was his responsibility to ensure his people survived.

But he was staring at a mountain he couldn’t climb, an enemy he couldn’t fight.

How could he stop it?

He had no answers.

And that knowledge tore at him.

The wooden door burst open, the chill of the night air rushing in as Torghan barged into the house.

The fire at the center flickered violently, shadows dancing against the wooden walls.

Varaku, already tense with the weight of his thoughts, shot to his feet, his weathered face twisting in anger.

“What is this, boy?!” he roared, his voice hoarse with frustration.

“Have you forgotten how to enter your home ?

Or do you you may barge as you wish?” Torghan winced at the outburst, lowering his gaze but refusing to cower.

He had grown used to his father’s sharp tongue, but tonight, there was more than just irritation in his words-there was a deep, simmering frustration, one that Torghan knew came not from him, but from the dire state of their people.He of course, did not take offense in that.

Varaku had every reason to be in a foul mood.

The coming winter would be harsh, harsher than any they had known.

The herd was too small, the pastures lost.

His father was carrying the weight of their survival on his shoulders, and it was slowly crushing him.

So, Torghan stood there, waiting.

He was the third-born son, not the heir, not the favored one, but still of his father’s blood.

He knew better than to interrupt until the storm had passed.

When Varaku finally fell silent, letting out a heavy breath as he rubbed his temple, Torghan seized his moment.

“Father,” he began, voice steady but urgent.

“There are people-strangers.

They came from the sea.” Varaku’s brow furrowed, deep lines of exhaustion creasing his forehead.

He exhaled sharply through his nose.

His dark eyes locked onto Torghan’s.

“What are you talking about, boy?” he demanded, his voice still rough, but quieter now, measured.

Torghan took a steadying breath.

“I was with Jandari,” he began, speaking quickly but clearly.

“We were scouting the lowlands, looking for the lost sheep of Murthai-he said they had wandered past the ridge.” Varaku grunted, unimpressed.

“And?You found them?

” “No, we found no sheep.” Torghan took a step forward.

“But we found them.The strangers.

We saw them with our own eyes.” Torghan’s voice carried a note of urgency now.

“They came from the sea, father.

Great wooden turtle, beasts that floated upon the water, their pale, square skins catching the wind,unlike anything we’ve ever seen .

And the men-” He hesitated, the image of gleaming steel flashing in his mind.

“They wore steel.

All of them.

Their bodies gleamed from the rays of the sun as if they were fires in the nights.” At that, Varaku’s fingers curled into fists.

His jaw tightened.

Steel.

They were warrions-clad in metal like the Thrazanie from outside the mountains.

Why the hell would they be here?The shiny stones are north, not here in the south?Are they even Thrazanie?They never attempted to use the sea.

Varaku thought as now, apart from a famine, he had to worry about invaders.

“Tell me everything that you saw.Do not lie,” he commanded as he realised that the tribe would be going for a bigger crisis than they ever had.