Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

As the two brothers from Herculia stepped into the tent, a quiet shift swept through the room. Conversations fell away. Every eye turned to them.

Arnold, ever the more reserved of the two, immediately grew uneasy under the scrutiny. His shoulders stiffened, his eyes flicked nervously from face to face. To soften the tension, he bowed respectfully toward the prince.

Thalien, by contrast, walked with casual ease. He returned the stares without hesitation, even offering a faint, almost amused smile to one of the men glaring at him.

That, unsurprisingly, was Jarza.

The old commander didn't bother hiding the cold edge in his eyes. He had made his feelings on Thalien abundantly clear from the very first day the young lord had offered his allegiance.

"A man who's betrayed once will do so again," Jarza had said time and again in protest to Alpheo.

And he had never disagreed. Thalien may have been useful, instrumental even, in toppling his own father's regime, but that act of treachery was a stain that could never be fully washed away. Alpheo had shown him courtesy, even occasional warmth, but trust? Never.

He would never give him any chance to deliver him any harm.

After all a betrayer once a betrayer always...

Still, at this point, with a week of bloodshed behind them and nothing but burnt wood and broken plans to show for it, Alpheo knew he needed fresh eyes, even if they came from the loins of one of his enemy

He rested his hands behind his back, giving a small, curt nod and giving them permission to throw their two cents.

"I thank you for receiving us, Your Grace and my lords," Arnold began, rising from his bow and lifting his gaze to meet Alpheo's.

Alpheo gave a small nod, not out of encouragement, but acknowledgment. "I suppose your claim that your counsel may aid us is reason enough to lend you our ear," he said, his tone measured. "We have spent a week bleeding against these walls. Perhaps what you bring could offer us something we haven't tried.So by all means state your thoughts"

Arnold inclined his head respectfully. "I make no pretense, Your Grace, of possessing a solution. I only hope to offer a perspective, one which, in your wisdom, you and your council may find worthy of consideration."

Shahab exhaled sharply through his nos "Then out with it," he said curtly. "We've no time for polite circling."

Arnold swallowed, then straightened, forcing himself to continue. "Very well. Your Grace, from what I've seen, and from what has been told to me, our efforts so far have focused entirely on storming the same points of the city. The enemy, by merit of defending only three sides, can concentrate their forces where we strike. Their rear wall remains untouched. I believe… perhaps we could use that to our advantage."

A pause followed. Alpheo's eyes narrowed slightly, and his heart sank. He knew what was coming.

Jarza didn't even let a beat pass.

"If you're suggesting we scale the cliffs and strike from the rear," he said, voice flat, "then I regret to inform you your counsel is neither new nor unused."

Arnold's face tightened, and his voice shrank almost to a murmur. "I—I had not meant to presume…"

Alpheo let out a slow sigh, rubbing his temple with a thumb and forefinger. He had expected more. The idea had been among the very first he and his generals had discussed when the siege began, an obvious hope, dashed just as quickly.

"We considered that route," Alpheo said, voice laced with weary disappointment. "But the enemy is not blind. The lord of the city patrols the cliffs every half-hour without fail. No time to scale, no time to gather, no time to strike. Anyone caught on that rock face would be skewered before they ever drew a blade."

Arnold stood quiet, nodding faintly, chastened but respectful.

Alpheo leaned back slightly, scanning the two brothers with a more critical eye now. He hadn't expected a miracle, but he had hoped, perhaps foolishly, for something that didn't already lie in the graveyard of discarded plans.

Still, Alpheo had expected more from Arnold.

This wasn't the man described in the reports, the one who had salvaged Herculia from the jaws of a peasant revolt . No, the man standing before him now, with trembling hands and lowered eyes, looked like a shadow of that reputation.

What happened to him, Alpheo wondered, that broke him so quietly?

Whatever it was, Alpheo had neither time nor interest to unearth it. He wasn't here to nurse wounded pride or fragile self-worth.

He opened his mouth, ready to politely dismiss the brothers and return to his council, when Thalien suddenly kicked his brother's ankle, hard enough to make a loud sound. Arnold flinched and turned, catching the sharp look and curt half-nod his brother gave him.

Alpheo's eyes narrowed. He had caught the exchange and rather than speak, he held his tongue.

Perhaps there was more.

Arnold's lips parted in hesitation, then closed again. He drew a slow, deep breath, grounding himself. When he finally looked back at the prince, there was a steadier steel in his voice.

"Your Grace," he began, "I was aware that the cliffs were regularly patrolled. But I believe we may be able to exploit that very expectation."

Alpheo's gaze flicked briefly to Thalien,whose face remained unreadable, and then back to Arnold. He gave a slight nod. "Go on."

Arnold stepped forward, his voice more certain now. "Until now, the defenders have had every mean to keep patrols on the cliffs. Why? Because every single day, we've launched another assault loud and predictable. To them, the rear is vulnerable only if we're pushing at the front, and since each time they had plans to contain that attacks, they could easily spare some men to patrol the rear.."

He drew a breath, warming to his own thoughts. "But if we were to suddenly launch an assault not at the expected time, in a sudden, unexpected burst, they may be caught off-guard. And if they are... their rotation of scouts might be delayed or disrupted in the chaos.''

Alpheo leaned forward slightly, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

Arnold met his eyes. "In the meantime we use that time to get men on the cliff. Quietly. As many as can climb. If they aren't seen right away, if we time the assault just right, we might get enough of them onto the wall to create a real threat from the rear."

The tent was silent for a moment.

Then Alpheo spoke, his tone sharper now, alert. "How do we catch them off-guard enough to delay the patrols?"

Arnold took another breath, steadying himself before speaking again. "I believe we should have some days of calm, Your Grace, no assaults, no movements, just stillness. Let the enemy believe we're licking our wounds."

He hesitated, aware of how precious time was, but pressed on.

"Then, during one of those nights, when they least expect it… we make noise.In that confusion, when their eyes are forward, we send a team to climb the rear cliff."

Silence fell in the tent again, and Alpheo felt himself instinctively tense.

He didn't like it. Not the risk, he could stomach that. It was the waste of time. They had already lost days, already buried too many men. Every passing hour made the date for the conference closer . The idea of sitting idle, waiting, while he was this close to his goal made something coil uncomfortably in his gut.

But then the alternative came to mind.

Another assault, and I'll gut the army before I take the wall, he thought grimly.

He rubbed his chin, then looked around the tent for counsel.

Asag was the first to speak, arms folded, brow furrowed in thought. "We could try it," he said slowly. "If it works, we take the wall. If it doesn't… well, we're just back to what we've already been doing. It's not like we've had much to lose lately."

There was a faint murmur of agreement around the room.

Shahab, ever the pragmatist, nodded once. "And in the meantime, we can begin constructing a second siege tower. If the climbing assault fails, we strike from the front again. With luck, we'll even break through during that same attack."

Alpheo let out a breath through his nose. It wasn't a perfect plan. But it was the only new idea anyone had brought to the table in days.

It was Jarza that broke the rising momentum of agreement with a sharp, skeptical tone. "Are we certain we'll be able to strike the enemy with enough force to cause such a reaction?" he asked, making no effort to hide his doubt. "There's a reason night assaults are rare during sieges. Whatever fear they might stir in the enemy, it pales compared to the panic that can erupt among the attackers. Coordination becomes a nightmare, confusion spreads like fire, and it only takes one routed unit to unravel the entire push, especially among those holding ladders or rams."

At that Arnold stepped forward, not hesitantly this time, but with something firmer in his posture. He met Jarza's gaze squarely.

"My brother and I considered that, my lord," he said evenly. "That's why we propose using our own troops to form the core of the attacking wave. I'll be there in person, standing with them, to keep their courage from faltering."

Jarza's expression barely flickered. "You realize that will put you within range of enemy arrows and slingers?"

"I do," Arnold replied. "But I'll keep my shield raised at all times. And frankly, night may work in my favor there, darkness goes both ways. Their aim won't be much better than ours. And if the promise of coin and valor doesn't steady my men's hands, then seeing their commander beside them might."

He paused for a moment before adding, "The goal isn't to take the wall. It's to make the defenders believe we might. That fear will force them to abandon their patterns, shift their patrols and throw their men forward."

Alpheo remained silent, letting the argument settle. He watched the faces in the room,some still cautious, others more convinced. Then he turned to Arnold again, really looking at him.

Finally, Alpheo gave a slow nod.

It was time they got a change of air...