Herald of Steel

Pasha Farzah clearly noticed how the word ‘fear’ had made Nanazin involuntarily shiver as she said so.

Because only she could imagine what the girls would be made to go through if these innocent doves fell into Ptolomy’s hands.

She could not let that happen, and she had to do everything possible to try and make that not happen.

And to her, only Alexander seemed to be the viable option.

Nanazin did not have the opportunity to consider what will happen to her girls after they reach Zanzan, but in her mind, whatever and wherever the girls end up at, it will still be better than what Ptolomy had planned for them.

Of that she was sure.

While Pasha Farzah’s heart shook a bit hearing Nanazin’s request.

He could easily guess what this powerless queen was trying to achieve and he could only imagine how she would feel knowing about Alexander and more importantly what Ptolomy would do to her now that he would no longer have to consider Alexander.

Perhaps he would directly kill her.

Or more likely just increase the abuse now that he would not have to be sure to keep her alive.

Perhaps the abuse had already started.

‘Okay, I will,” Pasha Farzah did not have the heart to tell the fragile woman the truth about the imminent attack on Zanzan or that Alexander might die very soon and simply lied with an affirmative nod, while quickly thinking up an excuse for why the ships to Zanzan will be ‘delayed’.

He said, “But the weather around Matrak has been particularly bad this year and we are waiting for a few last-minute orders to reach us. That could take a few weeks. We will immediately set off once we get that.”

“That’s alright, that’s alright *cough*, *cough*,” Just the confirmation of her request immediately made Nanazin produce a huge grin as well wiping away all her previous melancholy with pure, unadulterated joy, and even made her forget about her throat, causing her to break into a cough

But this was not enough to stop her from thanking Pasha Farzah further, as she hoarsely said, “*Cough*, *cough*, the girls still have some months in their training. As long as they can leave before.*cough*…that.”

Nanazin was over the moon at having her request granted.

This was honestly just a shot in the dark, a move of desperation that she really did not expect to work. 𝑜𝑣𝘭.𝘯𝑡

She was fully prepared to hear Pasha Farzah say something along the lines, ‘This is for His Majesty to decide,” and reject her.

‘Thank goodness. Although I’m already done for, I hope that Afsarah, Afsanah, and Afsahah can get a better life.’ She breathed a sigh of relief internally.

This was the love of a mother.

She did not mind going through hell as long as her children could at least live on earth.

“No problem. And rest assured His Majesty will know nothing about this,” Pasha Farzah lied through his teeth to comfort this woman, who gave him a beholden look and said in a joyous but still hoarse voice, “Thank you, *cough*. I will be ever grateful. My girls will be *cough* ever grateful.”

Even when her throat her hurting like crazy, Nanazin did not forget to thank the man and even looked at Pasha Farzah as if she was gazing at a saint.

A look that quickly changed to rueful acceptance as she heard the aged Pasha say immediately after with a sleazy smirk, “But what will be my reward? Hmmm? I’m taking a lot of risks here after all, hehe.”

The innuendo was clear.

And Nanazin accepted it gracefully, as this was the way of the world- equivalent exchange.

You give me something, I give you something.

Curling her lips up and giving her lips a sensual lick with her tongue, she coyly said, “Then Your Grace has never received one of my special oil massages, have you? Perhaps I could visit you tonight? I’m pretty good with my hands.”

Even after Ptolomy’s deeds, Nanazin was still a very beautiful woman, and the roundabout way she suggested the act made it even more enticing.

And surprisingly she managed to do it without coughing.

Pasha Farzah readily accepted it with a smile, though in a much more direct and open way, “I will ask His Majesty to let you spend the next week with me. I’m sure he won’t mind. ”

The cultural norms of Adhanian nobility made such a request that would have gotten anywhere else that person’s head lopped off somehow appear normal and reasonable.

A solid evidence of the moral decay of Adhania.

“*Nod*,” And Nanazin only silently nodded, both because of the finality of the statement and also to spare her throat.

Of course, in actuality, Pasha Farzah had no intention of actually sleeping with Nanazin.

He did this purely out of altruism, just to let Nanazin sleep soundly for the next seven days.

Because he felt bad for the woman and as well feared for well being.

He feared that if Ptolomy was allowed to do whatever he wished with her, the poor woman might not survive for too long.

And this was the only way he could think to help Nanazin survive because there was no way for him to actually make Ptolomy stop his domestic abuse.

Nanazin was not related to him in any way and besides, Ptolomy was the king, and whatever he did with his wife was his domestic affair.

It was extremely rude for another man to lecture a husband on how to treat his wife, much less for a retainer to advise his king.

No matter how powerful that retainer might be.

Hence, the concerned man could only do this, providing a brief respite for the troubled, abused woman.

And the requirement for that much rest was evident that very night.

When Nanazin came to visit him that night, Pasha Farzah made the excuse that he was feeling a bit ill and just wanted to turn in early, as he then casually invited Nanazin to sleep beside him.

And though Nanazin resisted at first, saying she would return to her room and come back another day, once Pasha Farzah insisted, she finally relented.

And as the tired woman laid her mature body on the soft mattress, she was asleep even before properly closing her eyes.

A phenomenon that would repeat itself for all seven of the next days, showing the amount of pressure and stress she was in.

‘*Sigh*, brat, I really hope you can survive this,’ Pasha Farzah could only pray against hope seeing this, as he tried his best to avoid a tragedy from unfolding right in front of him.

A tragedy that Alexander had no idea was taking place as he was more interested in preparing for the war.

Because according to the original timetable that was only a week away.

And in that spirit, his scouts had, at last, made their way to Hatamum, the presumed site of the fateful landing.

“The maps are a mess. So finally we found the place huh?” The leader of this twenty-men scouting party said gazing at the wooden walls of the place, his voice laced with doubt as he rechecked the map.

This was Laykash, the one who had killed Kefka, and gotten Alexander Adhan, and hence by relation Zanzan and having finally recovered from his injury this was his first deployment.

And right now the boy was looking at the sight in front and then at the map with furrowed eyebrows.

And the reason for his confusion was expressed by another him. “I thought they said Hatamum was a small hamlet? That it was a fishing village of about twenty to thirty families. But this place looks way bigger. Did the map mislead us again?”

Yes, this was not the first ‘Hatamum’, they came across.

Although they had followed one of the maps looted from the nobles, maps of this time period were inherently inaccurate, used more as a kind of guidebook rather than an accurate representation of the lands.

Hence the confusion.

“Hmm, yeah, you maybe right. No ordinary hamlet has a 10 feet thick wooden wall and a palisade,” A third one spoke up nodding his head.

“I see sentries. The place is guarded. Should we return with more men?” A voice from the back advised caution.

“No, there will be no need,” But Laykash ignored these concerns, bravely saying, “These are the lord’s land. And we can go wherever we want. Who’s going to stop us?”

This boy had always had a bit too much courage, something turning it into recklessness and even stupidity.

And this was manifested in the very next second, as right after he said, “Let’s go into the town and ask for details,”, the leader of the group strode his horse forward and drew attention to the guard atop with a loud shout, “Hey, you there! What is this place? And who is master?”

His broken Azhak and weird accent made his identity clear to the few, scantily clad in whatever armor they could get their hands on soldiers, or more aptly peasants as they bolted out of their relaxed posture to quickly come to the front of the wall.

“Who goes there?” One of the older men shouted the redundant question.

“The soldiers of the lord of Zanzan, Alexander. In his name, open the door,” Laykash fearlessly shouted back, his rear by this time reinforced by many of his men.

While all the guards’ hearts shook hearing the name and seeing the twenty strong men on horses, fully armored, with shields, spears, and bows.