Herald of Steel

Alexander pushed open the door to the meeting and was greeted with expectant gazes by all the people present, starting from the king who was seated at the head of the table to all the mercenary leaders.

They all seemed to have seated themselves comfortably, leaned back and arms on the armrest, and were likely engaged in small talk before Alexander had entered.

“Sorry, I am late,” Alexander addressed the group.

“Haha, commander, you have given the soldiers three days to enjoy themselves. As the hero who has won the city for us, you at least deserve thirty days to enjoy yourself.” Alexander’s usual sycophant Heliptos immediately jumped up to defend his commander.

And soon, following his lead, many others followed as Alexander was ushered to his seat right next to the king.

‘This bootlicker seemed to have upgraded himself.’ Alexander commented on Heliptos as he sat on his chair.

“Thank you for your understanding everyone.” Alexander started with a smile.

Then he urged, “Now, please let us start. A lot of the day has been lost and we have a lot of work to do.”

Seeing Alexander move onto the real meat of the business, the others sat up straight and turned serious, after all, they were still at war.

“First, the most important thing,” Alexander pointed out, “is determining how much food we got. Menicus, I want you to take inventory and then assign guards to protect it.”

“Yes, commander,” The old mercenary nodded seriously.

“Ump,” Alexander nodded with a small shake and then again emphasized, “Make sure to capture the food from the nobles and don’t let the soldiers destroy them. And if there is a shortage of space in the granaries, bring the grains directly into the palace and store them in the inner hall. It’s empty and no one is using it.”

“I will see it done,” Menicus nodded seriously for the second time.

“Then the next topic is about the war.” Alexander moved on.

Then he turned to Ptolomy and asked, “Your Majesty have you thought about how to deal with Amenheraft if he makes that claim?”, referring to how to deal with Amenheraft coming to alive in the people’s eyes.

“I…I…have.. thought of a few..but they..don’t seem to match our current circumstances. What about you?” Ptolomy very diplomatically said he failed and then quickly deflected the topic to Alexander.

“Hehe, by the grace of Your Majesty, I might have found a way,” Alexander let out a small smile.

He afterward turned to the curious men and said, “Today, we will inform the people that tomorrow there will be the funeral for the deceased king- Amenheraft.”

“Whaaat?” Ptolomy almost jumped out of his chair at this ridiculous statement, while many there were also confused.

Alexander explained, “The peasants have never seen the king. So, we will dress up the man we killed…what was his name..ahh…Kefka in the king’s armor and invite all the people to pay their respects to him.”

“We will claim that Amenheratf has tragically died after he was driven insane by the archpriest….ahhuh….”

Alexander had a strange memory condition where he could remember accurately volumes of text, but always had trouble remembering names.

So he looked at Ptolomy for the name.

“Manuk,” Came the quick, quiet reply.

“Yes….ah..Manuk.” Alexander nodded.

Then continued, “We will say that the archpriest had intended to rebel and thus poisoned the king, trying to kill him. But as the son of Ramuh, the poison couldn’t kill him. And only drove him insane, causing him to commit the massacre in the temple.”

Alexander then turned a bit high-pitched, “But by doing so. Amenheraft had lost the mandate of heaven and under God Ramuh’s orders, the heroic king Ptolomy, along with the gallant heroes he bought with him. stopped this by killing Amenhearaft and avenging the god’s servants!”

Finishing his tall tale, Alexander looked around to see the other’s reaction, he saw everyone looking around confused and unsure how to react.

‘Poison? Rebel? Ptolomy killing Amenheraft? When did all this happen?’ They asked themselves.

But soon, Alexander’s ever-reliable yes-man Heliptos started applauding with thunderous claps, “Superb commander…simply superb. This will make us look like we never attacked the temple, but only reached it after Amenheraft had already killed all the priests.”

The greedy mercenary’s first thought went towards the money in the temple and how to safely steal it.

And his reasoning also moved others.

“Hmmm, that is not a bad plan…no it’s a very good plan,” Ptolomy approved with a smile.

But then he asked with a small frown, “But, many mistook Kefka as Amenhearaft at the gates. What about that?”

Alexander readily answered. “That’s easy! That was just a scapegoat that Manuk had used to deceive the army and attack the brave king Ptolomy, while the real king was trapped by him in the palace all along.”

“And this is when,” Alexander raised his index finger, and said, “While everyone was distracted, he tried to poison and kill the king, but the poison failed and only managed to drive him mad.”

“And recognizing he had been plotted against, Amenheraft, with a sliver of lucidity left in him, charged into the temple to kill the traitor but ended up massacring innocent priests while the rebel ran.”

Alexander finished the story with a flurry of nods and acclamation that he graciously accepted.

“Hmm… Manuk is bringing a rebel army to take over the city and defeat the royal family and so we must defend ourselves’, that is a story that the peasants will buy. It will never be able to fool the nobles but it will be enough for the common masses.” The veteran Menicus, who had the most weight in the room after Alexander and Ptolomy, analyzed and praised this cooked-up story.

It was believable and solid on the surface, with enough details to make it sound real enough, but vague enough so people could spin and add their personal touches- like how the story only said Manuk had rebelled and trapped and poisoned the king, but the hows and why were left to the individuals to figure out.

Alexander’s made-up fable also impressed Ptolomy very much as he nodded his head vigorously, “Yes, yes, this is good. Very good. It is Manuk who is responsible for everything and I was only forced to act. The people will buy that.”

Then he added. “And although, it is against custom to show the dead body of a king of the common people. We are supposed to be gods after all. But it will be only Kefka so that’s no problem.”

At last, he asked, “Where will the body be displayed?”

“At the temple courtyard,” Alexander stated as a matter of fact. 𝒃𝒆𝙣𝒐𝒗𝙚𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝒎

This formed a small frown on Ptolomy’s face, “But letting the peasants into the temple is against customs.”

‘I need to kick this ‘because it’s custom,’ reason out of his head’, Alexander thought and said waving his hand, “Rebelling is also out of custom. But Your Majesty did it anyway. So why should you be held by them in other areas?”

Then, before Ptolomy could show his anger, Alexander said assertively, “The peasants that will come to pay their respects to the dead king will also meet their new king,” Alexander turned to Ptolomy and said, “You.”

“Me?” Ptolomy frowned as he did not think the peasants were worthy to look at him.

“Yes,” Meniscus, supporting Alexander, gruffly reasoned with the king, “With this, the peasant will definitely think of His Majesty other than Amenheraft when anyone says the word, king. After all, it is time the people must know who their rightful king is.”

The last sentence pleased Ptolomy very pleased much and with a grin, nodded, “Hahaha, yes, yes, it is time the people must know who their rightful king is. Good, good, haha.”

As Ptolomy celebrated his impending popularity, Alexander was sharp to notice that he- the originator of the plan got no praise.

‘This really is a donkey, can’t think of anything and can’t properly reward those who do,’ Alexander cursed Ptolomy in his heart.

Hiding all his discontent from his face, he instead turned to Grahtos, “Captain Grahtos, I remember giving you the responsibility for storing the corpse of Kefka. It is still in one of the cells?”

“Yes, commander. It’s in a dry locked cell, wrapped in dry clothes just as you ordered.” Grahtos gave the answer.

“Thank you,” Alexander smiled and then ordered, “Today you will take your men out to the outer ring and ride through the streets announcing that tomorrow at dawn the funeral for the previous king will be held. All are to be present with a food bowl. A bowl of porridge will be given to anyone with a food bowl- to every man, woman, and child!”

“What! That’s too much food!” Even before Alexander could fully finish his sentence, Ptolomy slammed his fist on the table in shock and glared at Alexander, unable to come to terms with the amount of food Alexander was willing to ‘waste’ tomorrow.

“I have not finished. Your Majesty.” Came the suppressed low growl, filled with simmering anger.

Alexander hated being interrupted.

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