Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 431

Chapter 431: Among the ants (1) Chapter 431: Among the ants (1) Half a month had passed since Torghan had been guested-no, honored-by Alpheo.

The time spent in the prince’s company had been unlike anything he had ever experienced.

After that grand dinner, he had taken part in many activities alongside the prince, from riding through the rolling fields to observing the strange yet disciplined formations of Alpheo’s soldiers, in a not so subtle propagandistic line of activity coming from the prince.

He could not communicate much with him; after all, it was not easy to speak through two translators, and many of the jokes did not maintain their funny side when translated.  Still, it had been fun to be in his company.  Actually, it had been the most exhilarating week of his life.

Every night since leaving, his thoughts drifted back to those days-how the horses thundered beneath him, how the soldiers moved like a single beast, precise and unyielding, how he had sat beside the prince himself, spoken with him, learned from him.

A part of him longed to return, to once again be in that world where he was not just another son among many but someone seen, recognized, and given purpose.

But for now, he was back at sea.

The wooden deck of the ship creaked beneath his feet as the salty breeze tugged at his clothes.

Around him, Alpheo’s people worked the sails, the rhythmic crash of waves filling the silence between them.

On the horizon, the outliers of the land he had departed from stood against the sky, growing smaller with every passing moment.

He had been ordered to depart by his father and yet he chose to remain there.

But as he gazed toward the receding shore, he wondered-not for the first time-whether it would be okay to leave his home behind.  Still, he had a bit of time to decide,even though in truth, he believed the decision had already been made in his hearth.

His feet were pointed homeward, but his heart lingered behind.

For now, his duty was clear-he had to report what he had seen, relay the truth of the outsiders’ words, which, to his mild surprise, had proven to be just that-the truth.

After his week of riding, feasting, and watching warriors train in ways he had never imagined, he had been taken to see the land where his people would settle.

It was a good place, better than he had expected.

Villages were already scattered across the region, their people speaking the language of the outsiders.

Perhaps that was intentional-placing them close to those who could teach them, easing the transition into this new world.

But what had truly caught his attention were the hundreds of men working the land.

Fields were being tilled, earth softened, preparations made well before his people had even arrived.

As apparently the prince wanted to make the new settlers job as easy as he could.

When he had asked about it, or better yet why people would be working land that did not belong to them, he finally learned the name of the outsider who had accompanied him-Aron.

Aron had explained, in his oddly smooth way of speaking, that those laboring were criminals-prisoners taken from the capital’s overflowing dungeons and put to work.

Apparently, they were to be his people’s…

slaves?

Servants?

Torghan hadn’t entirely understood the details, only that they were meant to work for them for a time, doing whatever tasks were needed.

Well, almost whatever tasks.

There were some days, Aron had mentioned, when other men would come to take them away for a few weeks before bringing them back.

Torghan hadn’t bothered asking why-whatever the case, the important thing was that they would have extra hands to help.

And that was good.

His people would need all the help they could get.

Still, above all, there was one thought that dominated his mind.

That would be his land.

His tribe.

He was about to become a leader.

And the best part?

It didn’t even matter that he wasn’t the strongest with an axe.

Back home, strength alone determined a man’s right to rule.

Here, it was different.

His power wasn’t measured by his own muscle, but by the number of soldiers tied to his prince’s army-soldiers who would ensure he remained at the head of his people.

It was fantastic.

Without lifting a finger, he had become the most powerful man in the newest tribe he was to lead.

And Alpheo-his prince, his benefactor-had assured him there would be plenty of chances to prove himself in battle.

The thought sent a thrill through him.

This was everything he had ever wanted.

A dream, not only within reach, but already placed in his hands.

As the ship glided ever closer to the shore, the jagged cliffs and rolling hills of his homeland grew clearer on the horizon.

The salty breeze carried the familiar scent of damp earth and wild grass, a stark contrast to the bustling, stone-built world he had left behind.

Torghan stood at the bow, his hands gripping the wooden railing as the wind tugged at his cloak.

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the air of home, yet it did little to ease the weight pressing on his chest.

Soon, he would stand before his father once more.

It had only been half a month since he departed, yet he felt like a different man.

He had feasted at the tables of foreign nobility, seen warriors move in formations unlike anything his people had ever known, and, more importantly, he had been given something no one else in his tribe had-a chance to lead.

————— Since the day Torghan and his group had set sail from the western continent, a month and a week had passed.

In that time, the land where his people were born into had remained eerily silent, caught in a fragile limbo.

The one man capable of bridging the language gap between the two cultures-Aron-had departed with him, leaving the settlers and the local garrison without any means of true communication.

It was a dangerous situation, one that could have easily unraveled into bloodshed.

The tribesmen who roamed the area had regarded the outsiders with suspicion, their first instinct being to drive them off-or worse, slaughter them and take whatever goods they carried.

Yet, for reasons unknown, the tension had never boiled over.

Both sides had kept their distance, wary but restrained.

The only real interactions came in the form of cautious exchanges-daggers and weapons from the garrison traded for livestock, a sheep or a few lambs in return for steel.

It was an unsanctioned practice, and those caught engaging in it were made examples of, at least in normal times with death.

Punishment was as swift as it was docile.

The soldiers guilty of selling military property were stripped to the waist and made to endure twenty lashes each, their backs torn open beneath the bite of the whip.

Under normal circumstances, such a crime would have warranted execution, but with only sixty men stationed in the garrison, every sword arm was too valuable to waste.

In another time, the wounds would have festered, infection taking its toll and claiming lives.

However, the expedition had been well-prepared, bringing along military doctors who ensured that the punishments left only scars, not graves.

And so, against all odds, what could have been the spark of an early conflict remained little more than a simmering unease.

The land waited, its people watching one another with quiet wariness, yet no war drums sounded, no blood was spilled.

For a situation so fraught with danger, it was oddly uneventful-almost disappointingly so.

However, the fragile calm that had settled over the land was shattered the moment the ship’s sails appeared on the horizon.

As the vessel cut through the waves and neared the shore, the tribesmen who had been watching the coastline with idle curiosity stiffened, their eyes narrowing.

By the time the ship docked and Torghan stepped onto familiar soil once more, that peace was broken.

Word spread like wildfire.

Barely a few hours after their arrival, a figure could be seen sprinting through the village, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“The leader’s son has returned!

Torghan has come back!” The cry echoed through the settlement, reaching every ear, setting feet into motion.

Doors creaked open, heads turned, and soon the village was stirring with life.

Women peered from the entrances of their homes, whispering among themselves.

Warriors, sharpening their axes or collecting the day’s games paused in their work, exchanging glances before rising to their feet.

Even the children, too young to fully understand the weight of the moment, sensed the shift in the air and began to follow the growing crowd that surged toward the heart of the village where the leader was in, after all , their knowledge amounted to the fact that the leader’s son had gone to the outsider’s land as guests.

So even though they did not knew all the details they knew something was happening.

They may have been ignorant , but sure as hell they weren’t fools.

The man sprinting through the village, his voice hoarse from shouting, was none other than Marduk, a sheepherder.  Unlike the rest of the tribe, who had hesitated to engage with the outsiders, Marduk had been the first to swallow his fear and approach their strange settlement.

He had seen opportunity where others saw danger.

The foreigners had steel, and he had sheep-it was only natural that a deal could be made.

For weeks, he had been slipping away from the village, venturing toward the foreign outpost where the garrison stood watch.

There, he would trade his livestock in exchange for their steel weapons.

A single dagger could fetch either a full-grown sheep or three lambs, a bargain that left both sides believing they had outwitted the other.

To the foreigners, a simple dagger was worth nowhere near the price of an entire sheep.

In their homeland, such a weapon was cheaply forged, while livestock was far more valuable.

But to Marduk, it was the trade of a lifetime.

With a single dagger, he could return to the village and resell it at an outrageous price, easily exchanging it for five more sheep.

It was a game of wits, and he played it well, quietly amassing wealth while the rest of the tribe scoffed at the idea of bargaining with the outsiders.

So in the end the reason for which the tribe could almost instantly knew of Torghan’s return was a greed of one man.