Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 59: In the city(1)

The walk , just like the feast proceeded without anyone dying.

Later on when Alpheo returned to the feast, with the smiling Jasmine behind him, he rose his eyes to meet that of the prince, only to see that when her father saw her and Alpheo walking together he gave a small smile, thinking that his play paid off.

Alpheo gave no sarcastic reply , he was too shook for that . 'A family of fucking madmen' he thought as he started walking to his group , after bidding goodbye to a smiling Jasmine .

The feast continued till the late evening , with Alpheo deciding to call the end of the night when he started to get sleepy.His business was completed so there was not use to linger there and be made fun of. When he made his decision known to his companion they raised a small ruckus, yet in the end they complied. To Alpheo's dismay, he noticed that many of his friends were quite tipsy, particularly Egil, whose joviality had escalated as the night progressed. Alpheo said nothing, but made a mental note of their behavior. It seemed that Jarza, who he had hoped would keep a watchful eye on his comrades, had not been as vigilant as he had anticipated. Yet, in hindsight, expecting them not to indulge in a few drinks at a feast was perhaps overly optimistic.Though it looked like someone had more the one.

Still the night finally ended, without anyone in his group losing his head or lower member.Something that he was proud of, as they walked back into their rooms.

''I should have done something tonight," Egil grumbled, his frustration palpable. "I haven't seen any action in years."

Clio, wincing at the scent of alcohol wafting from Egil's breath "You've done enough. Besides, didn't I find you with a servant this morning?"

Egil spat in disdain. "You count that as action? She practically fell into my arms, there was no thrill in it. And tonight, I haven't even bedded anyone. That was a sorry excuse for a feast—no action, no violence. In my tribe, if there weren't at least three deaths, this pitiful affair would be deemed dull."

"We're not in your tribe," Clio retorted dryly. "We're are currently in a civilized place . Having someone die at a feast would make a poor excuse of an host ."

''Quite back there !'' Alpheo shouted , growing vexed by Egil's complaints,"I thought I had told you to keep him from drinking," he directed towards Jarza.

Jarza defended himself "Every time I turned around to eat something, he grabbed a cup of wine and downed it in a heartbeat. What was I supposed to do, force him to vomit everything back up?"

"Maybe," Alpheo replied tersely.

"Then he would have been revisiting his meal from last week," Jarza retorted. "I'm not his babysitter, and he's not a child."

''Seems like someone is aware of that '' The star of the conversation muttered with a drunken smile.

As Egil stumbled along with a drunken grin, Alpheo's scowl deepened with frustration. Approaching Jarza with a measured stride, he leaned in close and spoke in a low, tense whisper. "When you put him to bed, make sure to douse him with a bucket of water. Think you can manage that without botching it?"

Jarza returned the smile, understanding the seriousness behind Alpheo's words. He then shot a glance at the oblivious blonde rider before nodding subtly in affirmation.

"Alright, boys," Alpheo addressed the group, his tone firm. "Time for bed. Tomorrow morning, I want everyone in front of the gate. We have business to attend to in town."

A chorus of agreement echoed through the group, each member retreating to their respective rooms. Only Jarza lingered, his smile still present as he followed Egil with a knowing look —————————

"Uhh," Egil grunted, rubbing his eyes before bringing his hand down to scratch his unruly hair. "Why so early in the morning?" he groaned, settling on the stairs outside the palace. The passing guards shot him a quick glance before continuing on their patrol.

"You're the only one complaining," Clio replied with a weary yawn.

"Still, couldn't we have slept a bit longer?" Egil persisted, squinting against the morning sunlight.He was never an early morning person, each day when the march was to start , Alpheo had to use Jarva to put the man back to his feet

"Alpheo said we have work to do," Asag interjected softly, his voice barely audible before he fell back into silence.That was his custom and they learnt to live with it

"Yeah, yeah," Egil muttered, still grumbling. "But couldn't he have delayed it a bit? What's so urgent that it couldn't wait?"

"Recruiting," Alpheo's voice cut through the air as he emerged from the palace, hand shielding his eyes from the sun and the other resting on his hip, near the hilt of his sword.He had to admit that it was a bit too early, but better start early than late.

"You scared people are gonna disappear three hours from now ?" Egil quipped.

Alpheo ignored the comment, brought down the hand conversing his foreheand and then turned instead to Asag. "Have you prepared everything I asked?"

Asag nodded. "The spot has been reserved for us for two hours now."

"Ample time to get everything ready. Have they started working?" Alpheo inquired.

"Yes" Asag confirmed. "Fifty of our men are preparing everything according to your instructions."

''Very well '' Alpheo responded before motioning for the other to rise.They all did and followed Alpheo behind. His hand clenched and uncleshed as he walked outside the gate, the guards standing there gave them a small and brief gaze before returning in their duty.

They walked out of the gate and started walking towards the street.The first minutes was made in total silence, both between them than out.After all there must be a space of empty roads between the living quarters of the commoners and that of the high-borns.Also for a security reason, as hiding between the commoners would be harder as it required them to cover this space, which by the way is manned on all side. Making it easy for the guards to spot a suspicious man running.

"So where are we supposed to be going?" Clio's question reverberated as his sword clattered against his thigh.

Alpheo shot him a fleeting glance before fixing his gaze ahead. "To the town square," he answered tersely. "We've reserved a small space for the recruitment examination. From there, we'll enlist 100 men for the upcoming campaign."

"More footmen?" Clio arched an eyebrow inquisitively at his leader. "Don't we have enough of those?"

"On that, you're correct," Alpheo acknowledged. "But no, I wish to recruit some bowmen. We have bows and arrows in camp, and none to wield them. It wouldn't be a proper company without archers."

"Don't forget about the riders," Egil chimed in, reminding Alpheo of their need for mounted warriors.

"No, I haven't forgotten," Alpheo assured him. "We have the horses; we just need to train some men. I trust you'll be adept enough for the task."

"I've lived half my life with horses," Egil boasted, striding ahead of Alpheo. "The day I forget how to ride or teach others to ride is the day I'm no longer a Skurish."

That took Alpheo by surprise, and he took the opportunity to ask more "Is that the name of your tribe? Skurish?" Alpheo's curiosity piqued, considering the name didn't sound imperial.

"No, Skurish-ai is the tribe's name," Egil clarified, walking on ahead. "Skurish is just what we're called."

"Ever thought to go back, to your hometown, I mean?" Alpheo ventured, his tone gentle but probing. Each of them had a home before becoming slaves, but Alpheo had lost his the moment his father sold him.

Egil turned back sharply, his expression contorted into a scowl as if Alpheo's words were daggers tracing from belly to chin. "My tribe was defeated in battle," he responded tersely, his voice laced with bitterness. "Why would you suppose my tribe would still be alive? The Romlians would never grace us with such mercy." It was the first time Egil had spoken about his past, and Alpheo could feel the raw hatred emanating from him.

"I never heard of tribesmen residing in imperial lands," Alpheo admitted, his gaze drawn to Egil's intense stare.

"Of course you didn't," Egil retorted, his eyes fixated on the sky above. "Thirteen years ago, they ceased to exist. My tribe was one of the last. The empire tried an experiment, it failed, and with it, my tribe. They hoped to use our bows and horses, yet they didn't bother to plan it out properly. They caused us to starve and waited for the first opportunity to wipe us out. And eventually, it came. My tribe was simply one of the last casualties, all the fault of the elders. We were fine in the Green-Sea, we raided and pillage just fine, yet they tried reaching for something that wasn't due to us. And in the end, the next generation paid the price," he concluded bitterly, his hand trembling as it gripped the hilt of his sword, his teeth grinding against each other in anger. Then, after a deep breath, he spat on the ground, signaling his reluctance to divulge further.

Everyone had its demons to fight with

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