Chapter 94: Grand Stage

Chapter 94: Grand Stage

Grand Stage

Lansius

After deliberation, Lord Lansius sent Hugo, Sir Michael, and Servius to broker a deal with the remnants of Sergio's followers. Aware of his still precarious situation, he solidified his position by bringing Servius' group into his fold.

Riding to the western forest with a heavily armed escort, Lansius met with the Servius' allies. It was a tense moment, but Lansius quickly reassured them with his words, and in turn, they swore fealty. They agreed to serve without pay in exchange for the assurance of food and shelter for themselves and their families.

The five hundred men were taken in as the new Nicopolan regiment. Lansius planned to integrate their families into Korimor and its surrounding villages and hamlets, promising protection as long as the regiment remained loyal. He further stipulated that the family members must work for the benefit of his House.

Having done all they could, the Lord and Lady retired to their field tent. Now, all that remained was to wait.

***

Nicopolan Camp

It was already midday, yet the fate of the remaining three thousand Nicopolans in the camp remained undecided. Composed of Sergio's loyalists and common refugees from Nicopola, they were either too late to escape or had resigned themselves to their fate.

The meeting between the two sides had been delayed due to internal strife among the camp leadership. Tensions were running high, and despite this, Sir Michael still refused to promise them food or shelter, even if they swore fealty to Lord Lansius.

"It's out of the question," he declared. "This morning, you were given an offer, and you destroyed the crops My Lord has graciously provided. You must own up to your mistakes!"

The new camp representative, taken aback, then asked timidly, "Can you at least guarantee our safe departure from Korimor and a share of our own supplies?"

"Only to those who could ransom themselves," Sir Michael responded.

His answer seized the Nicopolans' attention.

"But don't even think to take it from the baggage train. It belongs to the war victor. For those who couldn't ransom themselves, then you must answer for your crimes," the knight explained.

"Can you guarantee safe passage to those who can pay?" the new camp representative asked again, to the mockery of the crowd, who felt betrayed. Clearly, only the top-ranking loyalists, who had been given a share of the loot by Sergio, could afford the ransom.

Sir Michael decided to play hard. "My Lord commands both heavy and light cavalry that could hunt you down at his whim. And let’s not overlook the nomadic horsemen under his command, who excel at hunting on the plains. So, tell me now, what guarantee do you seek?"

The answer embarrassed the new representative, but Sir Michael wasn't done with his sarcasm. "Shall we have the horsemen to slaughter their horses to give you that guarantee—that we won't give chase?" He highlighted the absurdity of their demand.

Before anyone could retort, the knight pressed on, "The tribesmen would slaughter you for less than this foolishness. Heed my words, forget about ransom. The only action you can take is to trust Lord Lansius' judgement. And be certain of this—he has never broken his word."

Whispers spread among the Nicopolans. Even his adversaries could not deny that the Black Lord had always been true to his words.

Seizing the moment, Sir Michael stood with the poise of a seasoned orator and addressed the crowd, "What transpired this morning should be clear for all to see. Make no mistake, the Lord of Korelia doesn't make bluffs—he makes guarantees. Thus, I urge you to place your trust in him. And mark my words, Lord Lansius is a far better leader than the Tarracan man who has deceived and exploited you for his personal gain."

"But what will he do to us? We don't have food, and if you can't provide us with any, how are we to survive?" shouted one from the crowd.

***

Lansius

The next day, atop the gatehouse, the Lord of Korelia sat cross-legged on a fine carpet, sheltered from the sun by an overhead field tent. His eyes were focused on the point where the nomadic landscape gave way to the fertile lands surrounding the hill of Korimor and its adjacent river.

Lansius was enjoying this private moment with his wife. There were no guests, only Carla, Sigmund, and the castle musicians, who played their strings and flutes, evoking a rhythmic sense of calmness. As was customary, the ensemble included no drums, but rather the soft jingle of the smallest tambourine. Large percussion instruments were uncommon in the era, yet the mood remained decidedly upbeat.

To freely pick a place to take my lunch, and to have musicians follow and play as I dine—this is absurd...

Lansius mulled over where life had taken him, sipping a mild brew of herbal leaves to soothe his persistent sore throat. The brew was bitter, yet the honey-glazed, golden-baked snacks, no larger than a coin, offered a sweet balance. It felt almost decadent in a region just recovering from famine, but his staff assured him that enjoying such delights was only fitting for a Lord of his stature.

Lansius looked at his wife. The Baroness was gazing at the farmland below. The people of Korimor had been working hard to rejuvenate the neglected fields. Some of the fields damaged by the battle might yet be salvaged with tender care.

The good news was that, despite all the wars, it appeared they were in for a good harvest this year.

The mood in the city was uplifting. The siege had been lifted, and normalcy returned. The Korelia market buzzed with life as trade resumed. From the poorest to the richest, everyone was busy preparing for the upcoming harvest.

Lansius felt content, if not thoroughly grateful. The city had been freed, the populace clamored for his name, and the death toll on their side was so low there was no call for a mourning period.

Servants gracefully arrived with silver plates set on silver trays. Carla and another member of the staff checked the food for trouble and poison before it was served. All the while, the musicians maintained their harmonious melodies.

Lansius surveyed the feast before him: spiced skewered lamb, freshly baked flatbread, a medley of olives and seasonal vegetables, rich cheese, and fish grilled to perfection. The staff had outdone themselves, preparing a meal so lavish and complete it surpassed any they had enjoyed for days.

A victory, a city that supports our rule, loyal staff working diligently, and a loving wife by my side... What more could I ask for?

He concealed his smile, cautious not to disturb his wife who was still enraptured by the sweeping view before them.

Perhaps it's because Korimor is hers, there's a deeper attachment— something she never had with Korelia...

Lansius couldn’t help but be amused until he noticed the bruises marring her lower arm. Despite her assurances, Audrey had sustained more than mere bruises; there was swelling on one of her limbs from the battle as well. He had heard reports of the Baroness fighting like a hungry lioness, leading her men like a pride of lions against the Nicopolan elite rear guard.

While worried, Lansius also felt an overriding sense of pride in her accomplishments. Audrey was no longer just an adept rider but had proven herself a capable field commander in her own right.

He found the combination of Baroness and field commander to be fearsome, exactly what he had wanted—a growing power at his side. Pleased, Lansius breathed in the scent of autumn. A chill in the air signaled the coming of the harvest, and the landscape was teeming with life: birds chirped, foxes were sighted, and even moles were spotted.

More than winning, what Lansius truly cherished was the return of peace to the land. With Korimor secured, its resources, talent, and manpower under his command, and the grand alliance at his back, suddenly many doors of opportunity swung open before him.

Now, he could explore realms and enact policies previously beyond his wildest dreams. Even solving how to feed the four thousand Nicopolans seemed possible if he played his cards correctly.

As if echoing his thoughts, Sigmund and the musicians reached a crescendo in their performance, the harp’s strings resonating with vibrant anticipation, the flutes sounding a jubilant herald. It was as if they were celebrating Lansius' ascent to the grand stage.

***