Chapter 90: Mercenary interest(1)

Chapter 90: Mercenary interest(1)

The midday sun blazed down on the sprawling camp that had sprung up a few kilometers outside the city of Aracina. The prince of Oizen, Alpheo's employer, had finally arrived, bringing with him the full force of his army. VịSit no(v)3lb/!n(.)com for new novels

Soldiers moved in every direction, tending to the prince's few horses, sharpening weapons, and preparing meals over open fires. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat and roasting meat.

Alpheo and his group navigated through the bustling camp, weaving between clusters of soldiers and supply wagons.

"I don't see much left for us," Clio muttered. "Do you think they've forgotten about us? I don't see a piece of free space for us "

Alpheo's eyes scanned the camp, taking in the scene before turning to his group. "From what I can see, the prince has no more than 2,000 men—maybe fewer if we're counting our own. They'd be fools to anger a quarter of their forces."

"You think they're going to start trouble?" Clio asked, kicking a pebble as he walked.

Alpheo just shrugged and kept moving forward

Banner poles bearing the prince's crest flapped in the breeze, their vibrant colors a sharp contrast to the camp's utilitarian surroundings. As they walked, Alpheo noted the different flags representing various nobles.

"Has he managed to settle things with his vassals?" he wondered aloud, his eyes drifting over the scene. Most of the troops were infantry, armed with lances and barely any armor, if they had any at all. The cavalry, though better equipped, was few in number. It was clear that the men Alpheo had brought with him could be regarded as elite—they would easily hold their own in battle and even some more .

Finally, the group approached the center of the camp, where the prince's tent loomed large and tall

Alpheo could hear the murmur of voices from within, a low hum of conversation. He glanced at his companions and went forth. Jarza walked beside him, his face set with determination, while Egil, buoyed and happy by the recent formation of the light cavalry, brought up the rear.

"Indeed, Your Grace," Alpheo responded, his voice steady and measured, sensing where the conversation was heading.

The prince's demeanor hardened, his voice acquiring a sharpness that had not been there before. "I'm sure they have been a considerable burden on you, so I have come to relieve you of them," he declared, his tone laced with subtle condescension. "Feeding so many prisoners must have been an arduous task."

Alpheo inwardly smirked at the prince's thinly veiled attempt to seize control of the situation. 'Too late, you scheming bastard,' he thought, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. Aloud, he maintained a respectful tone. "Your Grace is generous to be concerned about our welfare," he said smoothly. "However, I am pleased to inform you that the matter has already been resolved. There is no need for you to trouble yourself with the prisoners."

A ripple of surprise coursed through the assembled nobles, their attention now fully captured. The prince's expression tightened, a barely perceptible shift that revealed his displeasure. "May I know how you have resolved this... issue?" His voice was cold, the words clipped as he sought to maintain control of the situation.

"Of course, Your Grace," Alpheo replied, his voice laced with a confidence that bordered on defiance. A slight smile played at his lips as he continued, "The prisoners were ransomed days before you blessed the city with your presence."

A wave of astonishment swept through the tent, the nobles exchanging incredulous glances as Alpheo's words sank in. Whispers erupted among them, their hushed voices filled with disbelief and outrage, some murmuring, "Mercenary," "Dare," and "Arrogance." It was clear that many of them viewed Alpheo's actions as not only bold but as a direct challenge to their authority.

The prince's eyes bore into Alpheo's, the irritation in his gaze barely concealed. "You have already ransomed them?" he repeated, his voice chillingly measured as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Yes, Your Grace," Alpheo affirmed, meeting the prince's piercing gaze without flinching. "The terms were negotiated swiftly, and the prisoners were exchanged for a substantial sum. Those funds have been reinvested into our forces, ensuring our continued strength and readiness—something that will undoubtedly benefit your campaign in the battles to come."

The prince's jaw clenched visibly, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he fought to suppress his growing anger. Around him, the nobles' whispers grew louder, a persistent murmur that filled the tent like the rising tide of a storm. Alpheo could catch snippets of their conversation—words like "impudent," "overstepped," and "dangerous" floating to his ears.

''Next time I would prefer if you would not be so hasty in your treatment of 'our' prisoners'' The prince finally said after spending a few seconds trying to find the right words

Alpheo maintained his composed demeanor and bowed a bit , his face a mask of respectful neutrality. He was acutely aware of the fine line he walked—balancing between what their deal required and asserting his own agency.After all he had to make money in some way, but luckily for him, he was too great of value to be dismissed or punished, so he knew the prince in the end would suck it up. What good was being in a good position if one did not exploit it?