Chapter 85: The Sons of Nicopola

Chapter 85: The Sons of Nicopola

The Sons of Nicopola

The three envoys had been waiting in the midday sun. They had asked to find some shade, but the guards and knights gave only a lukewarm response. Thus, they settled to wait in an awkward and heavy atmosphere.

Suddenly, a young man exited, looked around fiercely at the three envoys, and spoke to one of the knights. “The Lord is willing to entertain the envoys.”

The tall and imposing knight grumbled, spat on the grass, and said to the envoys, “Well, you got your chance. Don’t say I didn’t treat you right.”

The envoys hurriedly moved inside, welcoming the cool shade and sweet floral fragrance.

“Behold, the Lord of Korelia, the Protector of Korimor, the Leader of the Grand Alliance, and the Noyan of the Lowlandia Tribesmen,” a squire heralded.

The envoys bowed their heads in unison toward a man in brightly colored clothing slouched on a padded chair. Indeed, he had black hair.

“My Lord, we Nicopolans bid our welcome to this area,” said one of the envoys, a stout-looking soldier.

Another followed up, “What happened between the city and our people is unfortunate, but we’re willing to make amends.”

“Amends?” Lord Lansius laughed.

Seizing the moment, the third envoy brought forward a lacquered jewelry coffer. “Please accept a gift from our leader.”

Two of the envoys looked excited, but the soldier appeared anxious.

The Lord’s knight intercepted the intricate wooden box and broke the wax seal in front of them. When he opened it, a pungent odor emanated from the box. The knight’s eyes widened, while two of the envoys panicked. One gasped while the other shrieked in fear and nearly lost his footing.

The squires reacted by drawing their swords, but the Lord waved them off. “Let me see,” he commanded.

“Don’t let them near the Lord,” the knight barked at the squires. Then, more politely to his Lord, “My Lord, it’s an insult.”

The Lord rose from his seat to take a look at the jewelry box. Meanwhile, the two envoys cowered in fear, while the stout man visibly fumed.

“Ah, what a gift,” the Lord said, his tone surprisingly fascinated by the grotesque object. “Signet rings complete with the cut-off fingers. So, intimidating.”

“This is a preposterous insult. They should all be flogged,” suggested the knight.

“Oh, they’ll have their flogs, but after I’m done with them,” said the Lord. “I wonder what embalming he used to remove the stench.” He then gazed at the envoys and asked, “Should I return the favor?”

Realizing the hinted intention, the two envoys dropped to the ground, their faces pale, and they began to beg.

“My Lord, please listen. I don’t know about the content. I’m just a tradesman who dealt with Nicopolan nobles. Sergio told me to talk sweet and present you this gift.”

“My Lord, we didn’t know. Sergio set us up. He must’ve wanted us to die,” said another one.

"And I intend to deliver," replied the Lord with bizarre enthusiasm. "This is a game I can't lose. He aimed to intimidate me, and I shall retaliate in kind."

The envoys were paralyzed with fear. The one who had offered the jewelry coffer began to weep, while even the stout man dropped to his knees as if pleading for mercy. But the Lord was far from finished. "My scouts found human remains in a cauldron in the forest. Perhaps I should boil you three alive."

Madness flickered in his eyes, unnerving the envoys, who could only beg for their lives.

"No, wait," the Lord suddenly exclaimed. "That wouldn't work. That would only feed him." He then erupted into laughter, joined by his staff and knights.

The Lord finally added, "I bet this Sergio will gladly chug a soup made from you three. He must truly despise you to have sent you here."

In desperation, one of the envoys threw themselves at the Lord’s feet. “My Lord truly knows. This Sergio, he didn’t like us. He wanted us to die so he could control our families and followers.”

Lansius coughed several times and returned to his seat. His squire readily offered a goblet of water, which Lansius took and drank.

“Gentlemen, I understand your plight. But to me, you’re all already dead.”

“My Lord, please...” the envoy begged.

"You're mistaken," the Lord corrected them. "If I let you return unharmed, Sergio would likely become suspicious. He might conduct a sham trial, accuse you of colluding with me, and then execute you and your family."

Hearing the Lord’s explanation, the three envoys started to feel angry at Sergio’s treachery.

The Lord ignored their reaction and talked to his knight. “It’s not a bad strategy, using my hand to kill them and gain their followers’ loyalty. A dishonorable method, but who are we to judge?”

They were bitter about Sergio but felt powerless against him. Worse, they knew that Sergio had planted spies to watch them.

Hearing his family talk about Sergio, Servius recalled the events of that midday. He remembered sitting on the cart, his hands and legs tied, under a cloudy sky. Amid the creaking of cart wheels over uneven terrain and the sporadic neighing of horses, he’d had an unexpected conversation.

Unbeknownst to most, Lord Lansius, in disguise, rode beside Servius’ cart as the envoys were escorted to the field where they would be flogged.

Lansius’ words still echoed in Servius’ ears: “Do you know why I ordered this?”

Servius recalled that he’d wanted to spit but fear had made him shake his head.

“It’s to save you from Sergio.”

The words prompted Servius to do a double-take.

“Why did Sergio send you with that box of fingers? I think it’s because he fears you. He needs you to die.”

Servius could only exhale bitterly.

“You hesitated. You fear him.”

“I do not,” Servius shook his head. “I fear for my family and my men.”

“Then endure the pain. It’s ironic, but this is the only way to keep you alive; otherwise, this Tarracan Man will become suspicious and kill you outright.”

“Why are you doing this?” Servius asked.

“Do you want to save your family?” Lord Lansius replied, dodging the question.

Jumping to conclusions, Servius warned, “You want me to assassinate Sergio? That’s impossible. After your agent’s failure, it’s difficult to even get close to him. He’s surrounded at all times.”

However, the Lord seemed to have another idea. “How many did you say are under your influence?”

“Two hundred, but if I make my move, another three hundred will join, along with possibly five hundred unarmed people.”

“That’ll do,” said Lord Lansius, surprising Servius.

“I can’t rush at Sergio, not even in the middle of your attack. He’ll place me far away and put his men in my path.”

“You don’t have to. Instead of fighting, run to the woods.”

“Run...?”

“Spread the word that you have a backup plan in the woods if Sergio fails in the war.”

“But that still requires victory,” Servius warned. “At least a decisive win to break the morale of Sergio’s men. A rout won’t happen if he’s still alive.”

“Then I shall defeat him,” declared Lord Lansius.

Even Servius was astounded by the man’s conviction and couldn’t help but warn him, “How can you beat him? He has the numbers and the supplies. Don’t be fooled by the location of the camp; it’s well-fortified. The men are well-armed and equipped against cavalry attack.”

“It’s true that he has greater numbers and probably better fighters, also equipped to handle cavalry attack. However, that will amount to nothing. Just a tragedy waiting to happen.”

The calmness stemming from sheer conviction moved Servius, who had long sought to split ways with Sergio and his diabolical rise to power. “What will you do with the people under me if you win this?”

“Nothing but grant them the freedom to find a job and feed their families.”

“My Lord, we’re not farmers.”

"Then your men shall fight for me. Food in exchange for bravery in battle. This is Lowlandia; you won't find easy living here."

Servius heaved a long sigh but nodded his head.

"I suppose Sergio wouldn't plan for a general attack, given that his strong point is the camp. Fortunately, this will give you time to think. Remember this well: three days from now, when the night is burning, you must provide me with an answer," warned the Lord sternly. "Fail to do so, and all your men and their families will not survive this war."

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