Herald of Steel

“That boy is resourceful. I think he believes he can …umm…outlast the siege and negotiate a peace settlement, ” Trying to give an explanation for Alexander’s bravado, Pasha Farzah came up with this theory.

Though even the most optimistic part of him felt ashamed to say-‘Alexander thinks he can win’, feeling that might exceed optimism and enter the territory of miracles.

Because the Jahal mercenaries they would be facing were no joke.

And the number of the army was also too much.

Such huge numbers were usually wielded by Pashas against one another.

Not against a single city, moreover, one which had been plague-ridden and recovering from a three-year drought.

“Negotiate! After what he has?” Ptolomy did not think Pasha Farzah was so naive to believe that Alexander could talk his way out of this alive if he lost.

“The very first thing they will do when they capture him is cut off his tongue. And then get to working on his other bits” Ptolomy frustratingly commented, knowing Alexander had drawn the popular anger this time.

“I told that bastard to not go killing nobles left and right. I told him repeatedly. *Urggg*, why did I give him the right to kill nobles? I must have had my head kicked in by a donkey.”

By now Ptolomy had gotten up from his couch and started to pace around the room in anger and regret.

If only Alexander did not have that privilege, he could not have killed those nobles from Jabel.

And if those nobles were kept alive, given their confession of crimes, this entire fiasco could have been easily mitigated.

Ptolomy could have even helped Alexander increase his fiefdom by confiscating some of those captured nobles’ lands as punishment for their crimes.

“But no, that idiot that to go kill them! And what was the point?” Ptolomy shot abuses at Alexander, mixing his inner thoughts with his external bursts.

Ptolomy really could see no benefit in doing what Alexander had done.

Only trouble.

Because after killing so many nobles, their wives, and children, plus his already high kill count from earlier, if Alexander thought there was even a chance in hell that he would have the chance to even utter the words ‘negotiate’, he was smoking up a unicorn’s butt.

His ‘crimes’ even made Ptolomy sometimes want to kill him.

“Then let us pray for a miracle. Ramuh and Gaia are most powerful,” Pasha Farzah could also only let out a sigh as he said this.

He knew things were bad for the boy.

‘*Sigh*, and I somewhat liked that brat,’ Pasha Farzah wistfully sighed.

Ptolomy gave a pause upon hearing this, taking the time to calm himself a bit, and even pouring himself a glass of wine.

Then he posed his next question, “If he dies, what about all those things?” clarifying, “You should know as well as me of the things he has discovered. Clear glass, that sweet thing, and this new papyrus.”

Ptolomy showed the letter which was written on paper as he then in a tone of unwillingness asked, “Do we just let all these fall into that ‘fallen’s’ hand?’

Fallen was Ptolomy’s official definition for Amenheraft, as in ‘Fallen’ from power and the grace of the gods.

Though the word was yet to catch on.

This was also the thing that stung Pasha Farzah the most when he thought about Zanzan’s potential defeat.

Like The Queen mother, Mikaya too had informed of the happenings of Zanzan, of how the plague was eradicated, of the new soaps, the beautiful glass, the new types of clothes, and everything else Mikaya was privy to.

The girl really left nothing behind to tattle, except that little nightly secret of hers.

And so, after knowing about it all, Farzah could feel his body produce actual pain just thinking about all these wondrous inventions would just fall into Djose’s lap just like that soon.

In fact, when Mikaya had written to him in her very first letter about the happenings and change of Zanzan, in being completely truthful in her letters, the contents of it also appeared somewhat fantastical, and if it was not written by his most trusted daughter, Pasha Farzah would have taken it to be the wild imaginations of a drunk.

And even after all the trust he had in Mikaya, he still considered asking in the return letter, ‘Are you trying any weird berries in Zanzan?’

Because he felt that there was no way a single man could realistically invent so many things in so little time.

Thus the saying ‘Reality is stranger than fiction,’ once again manifested in the Pasha’s life.

And tempted by all this, in one of his letters to Mikaya, Farzah had even alluded to saying that he considering marrying her off to Alexander.

But his daughter had not addressed this concern in her next address, showing her reluctance.

And Pasha Farzah also knew Alexander might not be interested given his daughter’s proclivities, which no doubt the smart boy would have some clue about by this time.

And so in the deepest recesses of his heart, there resided the will to match Azira and Azura with Alexander.

But it was still a fetal plan, something that Pasha Farzah was considering, not deciding.

“Perhaps he is blessed by the gods. And everything will be alright,” Again, Pasha Farzah could only give this muddy answer, asking Ptolomy to rest his faith in the gods.

Because that was all they could do now.

While Farzah reasoned to himself that all his actions, achievements, and inventions up until now were too fantastic to be done alone and the agnostic Pasha really hoped just this once the gods were real and that Alexander was really blessed by them.

Because he had a lot riding on Alexander surviving and thriving, for his future and his family’s future.

“……” Pasha Farzah answer’s made Ptolomy feel an unbearable itch as he turned his head away in frustration.

The itch was caused by the thought of the potential loss of such great inventions and by the fact that if Alexander did by some miracle win, then he would be someone similar to him.

“*Snap*, Perhaps we can write to him,” Suddenly, as if hitting on an epiphany Ptolomy snapped his fingers, and elaborated,

“Perhaps we can write to him and say to not let these precious inventions fall into others’ hands. Perhaps he should destroy them and kill all the artisans. Or better yet hand those techniques to us. Yes, to us. So we can get revenge for him later,” Ptolomy’s eyes seemed to sparkle with each passing word, and his octaves appeared to increase with each succeeding sentence.

Ptolomy was genuinely pleased with himself for having figured out the solution.

‘At least then some good would come of this total fiasco’ He reasoned with himself.

‘The naive idiot really thinks it can work,’ While Pasha Farzah only rolled his eyes.

This was not because he thought the idea was stupid.

No.

In fact, he felt that the idea was quite good.

A prudent lord might have indeed done that.

If not the artisans, then at least the workshops just in case.

After all, it took Alexander just three months to build.

So, even if everything was destroyed, it would only take him at best that much time.

And likely it will be much less because of the already experienced workforce.

But it missed a critical factor- the words in the letter.

It missed the fact in the letter that Ptolomy just read, Alexander clearly showed his willingness to fight to the last man to defend Zanzan.

And would such a determined man destroy his golden goose?

There was no way.

Pasha Farzah foresaw Alexander bravely fighting with all available men, trying to protect everything until a rout began and everything went to hell.

And then there would be no man to demolish anything.

Because that was the kind of person Alexander struck him as.

“Hmmm, that is a good idea. Perhaps Your Majesty should write it. Who knows maybe he will actually pay heed to this one,” Pasha Farzah did not feel like arguing with Ptolomy and so simply told him to go with it.

It couldn’t hurt to try anyway.

Ptolomy felt very good about himself hearing Farzah’s positive answer.

It was not easy to get the old man’s greenlight.

A feeling that quickly evaporated, when Ptolomy suddenly remembered another issue as he jolted his head at his prime minister and cried, “Farzah! There is also all that money he stole from the temple. What about that? Will we just let all that money simply fall into Djose’s hand? That can’t happen!”

Ptolomy knew Alexander had around 300 to 400 million ropals with him.

And if all that money fell to Kuleef’s Pasha, he could easily recoup all his expenses and even make a huge profit.

“Perhaps we can also ask Alexander to dump his coins into the sea,” Pasha Farzah matched his joke with Ptolomy’s previous method, saying it with a wry smirk.

Because there was nothing else they could do. ．

Ptolomy did pick up on the sarcasm and understood that his previous suggestion was seen as a joke.

So, he snapped and said in a somewhat regal, deep voice shouted,

“Prime minister! “All you have done up until now is just say no and nothing like they were being given out for free by the roadside!”

“I appointed you to solve problems. Not make jokes. So tell me how can we retaliate!”

It appeared Ptolomy did not like being passive and thrashed upon by his enemies.