Herald of Steel

Hope was a dangerous thing to count on.

And something that Nibraz refused to buy into.

“That is unlikely. I do not believe it.” The old man flatly said, reasoning, “The more likely explanation is that the letter has not arrived yet. After all, it takes some time to get word from Zanzan to Adhan, and then to us.”.

And then menacingly added, “If you can wait a month, I can get you another ten thousand (10,000) men. I want to make sure those bastards burn.”

The old man was planning to go all out to avenge his son.

“No! A month is too long!” But he was decisively struck down by a noble, who reasoned, “We are already cutting it too close to the spring harvest. And we will need our man back by April at the latest. Or all our crops will go to waste.”

And he was soon joined by a few liked ones, “That’s right. Even if this campaign goes perfectly according to schedule, and only last a month, it will still end by late February at the latest. And then it will take another month to get the men back. We are already cutting it too close. We can’t wait any longer.”

There was no way the nobles could afford to miss the first spring harvest, especially when it was after a three-year drought.

“Will Lord Maizdy and the others’ unfortunate absence disturb the schedule?” Amenheraft then asked the question to Faruq.

“…Yes.” After pausing to think if he should lie about it and push the campaign forward anyway, Faruq decided not to.

Because telling the truth would not put his skin at risk, but lying would.

So he said, “There were a lot of things Lord Maizdy prepared according to his needs. And now we will have to reorganize them. One such is the appointing of new officers, and then we will need to assume there will not be appropriate accommodations in Hatamum, so more winter clothing, more rations, and even more pleasure women. Further…”

“How long do you need?” Ameneheraft raised his voice to curtly cut off the reciting young man.

This campaign had bought him nothing but headaches and the irritation in his voice was palpable.

“Three weeks,” Faruq gave the short answer,

“You have ten days,” And got one and a half weeks from Amenheraft.

But this did not mean the returning time was pushed back.

Meaning there was even less time to finish the campaign and no time for a lengthy siege.

But it was what it was.

So with all the major sections covered, Amenheraft decided to give his closing speech as a way to conclude this meeting.

It was short and to the point, “As all my lords can see, this campaign is quite time constrained. But also very important. So I hope all of you will strive to the hardest of your abilities and not let factionalism divide us. Glory to Ramuh!”

“Glory to Ramuh!” A roaring cheer followed the king’s speech followed by the raising of the wine cups, signaling the end of this meeting.

And thus finalized the mammoth task of capturing Zanzan by the end of February, a time frame set up by the nobles themselves.

And though they did not believe it would be easy, they also did not think it would be too hard or that the siege would last too long given their overwhelming number.

And so each of the nobles got down to performing their task with purpose but also relaxed tranquility.

A feeling that was very much missing with the pair in another part of the country.

“*Bam*, that bastard! How dare he?” Ptolomy slammed his fist against the hard mahogany table as he his eyes looked wrathfully at the letter Pasha Farzah had bought to him.

‘Does he mean Amenheraft or Alexander?’ Sitting across the strapping, muscular Pasha Farzah mused in a slouched, relaxed posture.

His body showed no discomfort as if the world was under his thumb while he reminisced about the contents of the letter.

It had been addressed both to him and Ptolomy and though it was convention to always let the king read the letter, Pasha Farzah did not care.

Ptolomy barely had the intellect and more importantly, the will to be of any help to him, and so it him who did the real work.

And hence he had the first look to determine if it was worth letting Ptolomy know.

And oh boy it was.

The letter was quite long, but basically detailed the events of Jabel and the incoming attack, with the urging by Alexander to diplomatically pressure the other side to back down.

“What do you think?” Finally finished reading and re-reding the letter, and after regaining his composure, Ptolomy posed.

Because he had no idea what to do.

“…*tap*…*tap*…*tap*…” Pasha Farzah did not immediately give the answer, but scanned Ptolomy’s reaction, producing his signature tapping on the table.

To see how he would react to this sudden news. .𝘤𝘰𝑚

Until finally he answered, “I think killing Fatrak was stupid. Alexander might not have known Fatrak. But you knew. And even then you killed him. And this is the result…… That’s what I think.”

The sarcasm and snarkiness are dripped very heavily over the very open and even rude comment, to the point of calling one’s liege ‘stupid’ to his face.

“He insulted me! He insulted the king! He said ‘you’ were greater than me! You think I should have let him go? Or do you think you are greater than me?” Ptolomy immediately flared up hearing such words, looking at the silver-bearded man with reddened eyes and shaking fists.

One liked being called stupid to their face, even if they really were one.

While Farzah only placidly looked back, his mind commenting, ‘The moment you became king, your attitude changed. You have become childish, throwing a tantrum the moment things don’t go your way. You think that just because you sit on that throne and I call you king, you are any different? Heh, an idiot is an idiot no matter what’s his title.’

The fact that Ptolomy was never a good candidate for king was known to all, especially to his retainers.

And he was initially chosen because of some of those particularly bad traits as it made him easier to be manipulated.

Traits that were becoming problematic now that he had actually become king.

“I think that killing Fatrak has caused Djose, who could have been our ally into becoming hostile for as long as he lives. And now he going to launch his attack on one of our allies. Which we are left having to deal with it. That’s what I think,” Pasha Farzah kept a calm, cool voice as he answered the accusation, not getting baited into starting an argument with Ptolomy.

“We will simply not give them the promised money. Or the goods. Or better yet, access during the Jaatama. They broke the treaty after all,” Ptolomy ranted off a few potent suggestions.

Suggestions which were all shot down by the knowledgeable Pasha, “Not giving the money might not matter. Djose should have enough in his coffers to not care, and even reimburse those nobles Your Majesty might deny.”

“What! He has that much?” Ptolomy was genuinely shocked.

The amount of money they were talking about was not peanuts.

It reached close to a billion, a huge sum by any stretch of the definition.

“Do not underestimate Kuleef, Your Highness” But Pasha Farzah in a deep tone advised, saying, “Though it is said it is the third richest province after Adhan and Matrak, I have always suspected otherwise. Djose should have more.”

“Hmm, why do you say so?” Ptolomy was curious.

Adhania’s three biggest provinces had the following.

Adhan had its salt, its agriculture, its precious minerals, and an annual tithe that all the temples of Ramuh across the nation paid it, making it the richest province.

Matrak had timber, precious gemstones, a thriving slave trade due to the barbarians it bordered in the north, quite a few very popular horse breeds coupled with an advanced animal husbandry industry, some very fertile plains, and a fishery industry.

And Kuleef had a thriving port, a glass industry, and its real gem, its flatlands, giving it the nickname the bread basket of Adhania.

Because the Naher River, which run through Adhania very similarly to the Nile River, met the sea at Kuleef.

And just like the Nile delta produced a patch of ridiculously fertile land at its mouth, so did the Naher.

“Just the crops produced around the Naher delta should have made Kuleef the richest province. The fact that it is not is based partly because Djose pockets a lot of the bill of Pasha Sharif (Pasha of Abu Hamam) due to complicated reasons and partly because he wants to hide it.” Pasha Farzah hypothesized and finished by saying, “Well, that’s my thoughts anyway.”

Ptolomy’s eyes narrowed upon hearing this, regret welling up for being so brash back them and losing such a valuable ally.

He trusted this analysis because he knew once upon a time Pasha Farzah and his eldest brother Djose were quite close, though the relationship seemed to have cooled a bit in recent years.

The first time was when Djose refused to back Farzah openly and directly during the rebellion. And then after Ptolomy’s ill-fated swing of the sword.

“So, money is no longer an option. What about the Jaatama?” Ptolomy hence moved to the next option, posing the question with pursed lips,