Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Alpheo rode tall in the saddle, his sharp eyes scanning the roads of Aracina, the salt-tinged breeze a familiar reminder of the town’s place by the sea. Beside him, Ratto rode silently, his compact frame hunched slightly as he occasionally glanced at the Golden Steeds, the company of sixty men, all in gleaming gilded armor following behind. The rhythmic clinking of chainmail and the steady beat of hooves on cobblestones echoed like a heartbeat through the streets.

Alpheo allowed himself a moment of reflection, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he recalled his first days in this very town. Aracina was more than just a, coastal settlement of the crownland to him—it was the birthplace of his rise in these lands. One year and some months ago, he had been no more than a sellsword when fate intertwined him with the late Prince Arkawatt. Tasked with holding Aracina until the royal army could arrive.

He still remembered when his companions had been against being hired by Arkawatt as they could not understand the reason , he would pledge his service to a man without coin.

Now I am the ruler of that princedom, and all of them were made lord.Fate is a fickle thing ....

He could still picture the walls of Aracina at dusk, the fires flickering in the dark as the army of Prince Shamleik of Oizen loomed outside the gates. It was here that he had devised his boldest ambush, luring Shamleik’s forces into the town’s narrow streets, turning their numbers against them. The bloody skirmish that ensued became a defining moment—a triumph that not only saved the town but also gave them a good amount of coins and equipment for his soldiers, that would not come from Arkawatt’s pocket.

As he rode now, the sea breeze stirred memories of that fateful night. The cries of battle and the sight of Shamleik’s banner falling still lingered vividly in his mind. A slight frown darkened Alpheo’s features as another thought emerged—the fragile truce signed after that victory was coming to an end. By December, the Principality of Oizen would be free to renew hostilities. And if Alpheo knew anything about Shamleik,he would probably not miss an opportunity to pay back the man that had thwarted his plans.

”Always circling, like vultures over a carcass,” Alpheo murmured under his breath, his fingers tightening around the reins.

”Did you say something, Your Grace?” Ratto asked, his voice cutting through the prince’s musings.

Alpheo shook his head slightly, snapping out of his reverie. ”No, just thinking aloud.”

As they reached the city, the gates of Aracina creaked open with a slow groan, revealing the narrow road leading into the bustling town. From within, a man in polished but weathered armor rode out to meet them. As the rider approached, Alpheo’s eyes narrowed, instantly recognizing the man—Sir Fahil.

If he had to describe the man he would use one word Rat , Fahil had played a crucial role in Alpheo’s triumph during the siege of Aracina. It was Fahil who had secretly plotted to open the gates for Prince Shamleik’s forces, only to be discovered by Alpheo at the last moment. Cornered and desperate, Fahil had switched sides once again, aiding Alpheo in luring the Oizen vanguard into a devastating ambush. His duplicity had inadvertently sealed Aracina’s salvation, though Arkawatt, unaware of Fahil’s treachery, had retained him as governor of the city.

Now, after Alpheo’s administrative reforms, Fahil stood as the head of the garrison force instead of his governor.

As Fahil drew closer, Alpheo observed the man’s discomfort. Sweat gleamed on Fahil’s brow, despite the cool coastal breeze, and his bow was deep and deferential, an obvious attempt to placate the man he had insulted just a year ago, and who in the meantime had become his liege.

”Your Grace,” Fahil greeted, his voice wavering slightly.

Alpheo allowed himself a smile—one more unsettling for its warmth than its menace. ”Sir Fahil,” he said, his tone measured, ”it has been quite some time since we last crossed paths.”

Fahil straightened slightly, only to bow again, lower this time. ”Indeed, Your Grace. A most...fortuitous meeting to see such nobility again....”

Alpheo’s smile lingered as he tilted his head, pretending to muse aloud. ”And yet, I see you’ve retained your position as head of the garrison. How interesting that the winds of fortune still blow in your favor.”

Fahil’s face paled, and his bow became so low it seemed he might tumble from his saddle. ”It is my greatest honor to serve under the crown, Your Grace,” he stammered, his voice cracking.

Alpheo sighed, a sound more exasperated than cruel. ”No matter,” he said with a wave of his hand. ”Show me the way to the port. I’ve no time for pleasantries.”

Fahil straightened at once, fumbling to turn his horse around. ”Of course, Your Grace. Please , follow me.”

As Fahil led the way, Alpheo’s gaze lingered on the man for a moment longer, a flicker of disdain flashing in his eyes before he spurred his horse forward. Behind him, the Golden Steeds marched in perfect formation, their disciplined strides a stark contrast to Fahil’s obvious unease.

As Alpheo rode behind Fahil, his calm exterior betrayed nothing of the storm brewing in his mind. His eyes studied the back of the man leading them, noting the stiffness of Fahil’s posture, the slight tremble in his movements. A rat once is a rat always, Alpheo thought grimly.

The memory of Fahil’s double-dealing during the siege of Aracina resurfaced like an unwanted specter. That he had been forced to rely on such a man to secure victory still left a bitter taste in his mouth, since now he was the one above him. The fact that Fahil now commanded the garrison of Aracina—one of only two coastal cities that the Prince of Oizen coveted most was something that he had to deal with immediately.

There is no chance he’ll retain his position, Alpheo resolved silently. His decision was already made; the moment he returned to the capital, Fahil would be replaced by someone more trustworthy—someone loyal to his wife.

Better to have a loyal fool than a cunning traitor guarding my walls, Alpheo mused as he believed that the actual people of skill in service of his wife, and that were not employed by him , were really few.... and automatically associated that they would certainly be of poor skill.

Fahil might bow low and tremble now, but the opportunistic glint in the man’s eye hadn’t faded, he recognised it very well for after all he shared that same trait with him

Opportunistic men after all resemble each other.

Aracina’s defense was too critical to be left in the hands of a man whose loyalties were as fickle as the wind. With the truce between the Crownlands and Oizen ending in December, Shamleik’s forces would undoubtedly turn their eyes toward the city once more. Aracina was a key prize, its port vital for control of the coast, as such Fahil had to go one way or the other.

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As Alpheo and his entourage reached the bustling port of Aracina, the salty tang of the sea filled the air, mingling with the sharp cries of seagulls overhead. The prince wasted no time; his eyes immediately sought the ships that had dominated his thoughts and coffers for the past six months. There they were, moored in orderly rows, their sleek forms gleaming in the sunlight.

Fifteen ships in total ready to sail the waves.

Each galley bore a bronze-clad ram at its prow, its sharp, gleaming point a deadly promise to any ship that dared cross its path. These rams, carefully forged and polished, had been designed to punch through the hulls of enemy vessels, turning the sea itself into a battleground, he knew very well that most ships used during sea invasions , were mostly merchant vessel borrowed from merchants . As such Alpheo tried to make it so that his royal fleet would serve a similar purpose to his White Army.Both extremely expensive and yet to be that diamond in the midst of dirt.

Alpheo’s gaze swept across the fleet, his chest swelling with pride. This was no mere vanity project of his , but it was instead his future power . His realm’s strength could no longer depend solely on armies marching across fields or cities held behind walls. If his ambitions were to thrive, they needed dominance on the sea as well, as after all many of the interests of Yarzat lied on the other side of the sea...

The cost still had been staggering—35,000 silverii sunk into the endeavor, enough to build a small city. But as Alpheo surveyed the galleys, he knew the investment had been worth every coin. These ships were not just tools of war; they were symbols of power, as he knew very well just how important ships would be for the next few years

”Magnificent, aren’t they?” Alpheo said aloud, mostly to himself, his voice carrying a note of pride as he admired the galleys gleaming under the midday sun.

”If you say so, Your Grace,” Ratto replied, folding his arms involutarly with a skeptical tilt of his head. ”Still, if you don’t mind me asking, who’s going to have the honor of leading them out to sea? Surely, I hope it is not you your grace?’’

Alpheo let out a soft laugh, turning his gaze to Ratto. ”No, not me. My talents lie on land. I’ve hardly set foot on a ship, let alone commanded one. And therein lies the problem.”

Ratto raised an eyebrow, catching the slight hesitation in Alpheo’s tone. while giving him a stare that sounded like : Ah, so you don’t have a man for the job yet?

’’That’s unlike you, Your Grace. Usually, you’ve got ten steps planned before anyone else even realizes there’s a game.” Ratto said with a small smile

Alpheo sighed, his brow furrowing. ”The truth is, our expertise at sea is... lacking. Yarzat was never much of a naval power, and there’s no one in my ranks with the experience to lead a fleet of this scale. Most of the crown’s man have spent their lives staring at fields, not waves.”

”So, I suppose you will start searching for one?Or you think of trying your luck with someone?

”Hardly,” Alpheo shot back, smirking liking the tone of his voice as he never liked anyone that used a flattering tone . ”I’ll likely have to look beyond our borders for someone with the necessary skill.’’

Alpheo’s smile faded as his mind wandered back to the complexities of what he had just discussed. He knew better than anyone how dangerous it was to entrust something as critical as a fleet to a foreigner. As any state , Yarzat while tolerant in some ways, had their share of suspicions toward outsiders. Placing a man of different culture at the head of their first royal navy would invite more than whispers of dissent

But the political unease wasn’t even the greatest concern. A foreign captain would come with a past: previous employers whose interests might still hold sway, family ties that could tug at their loyalties, or allegiances forged in ports far beyond the Alpheo’s influence. A captain with a family in an another state might be tempted to switch sides with the navy.

Alpheo’s jaw tightened at the thought . Of course, there were ways to safeguard against such betrayals. If he could gain leverage over a potential commander—secure their family as ”guests,” for example or making him a nobleman with some lands.

Many already grumbled about Alpheo’s ambitious reforms and the speed with which he was changing the realm, the recent reaction of the noble to the administrative reforms was one example, and bringing a foreigner is a seat of power was certainly no better.

Still they were not the one that ruled the princedom, so by the end of the day their grumblings could be ignored especially if it was not a common attitude of the majority of his vassals, given that most had no interests regarding the crown’s fleet and as such for the most part were apathic toward it....