Herald of Steel

Alexander put aside the issue of future medical technologies aside for now, as Menes’s call directed his attention to the battlefield.

So Alexander shifted his mind to winning the current engagement.

“Yes, let’s go,” Alexander thus gestured with his hands while leaving Hiperteom to attend to the clinic and he soon found himself outside the camp where his army was ready and waiting.

They were all geared and reared to go, yesterday’s victory seeming to energize them.

“March out!” Hence Alexander gave the order to march to their positions as they had done yesterday.

While on their way, after the other commanders greeted him, Alexander posed the most pressing concern to Melodias in a low voice. “How many arrows have we managed to retrieve? Can we fight?”

Those arrows were his trump card, and if he did not have much, Alexander planned to retreat behind the walls.

“About a million, my lord. Should be barely enough for today,” Melodias whispered back the reassurance, which calmed Alexander for the time.

At least he had something to fight with.

With these various thoughts and considerations with him, Alexander soon deployed his army the same way he did yesterday and the troops were in position, ready to fight.

But soon, those who were looking for a fight were grossly disappointed.

Because no fight came.

In fact, the other camp barely reacted to Alexander’s deployment.

Almost as if they were asleep or the place had been deserted. ｏｖ𝚕．ｃｏ𝚖

“Are they thinking of skipping today?” Menes wondered out aloud.

It was possible Faruq intended to rest the day.

They had the supplies after all.

“Hmmm, maybe we should attack? Not give them the time?” And from the side, Grahtos suggested the offensive option, wanting to bring the fight to them.

Which many others seem to also consider as a good idea.

‘Why give them the time to rest?’ They thought, as ‘hit them when they are down’ was and always is a classic strategy after all.

But Alexander did not seem to share that concern, who uncategorically rejected such an idea, firmly saying, “No, they have lots of cavalry. I do not want to be caught out of why defensive structures.”

It seemed to him that his generals had grown too complacent and were starting to belittle the enemy.

For he knew that as long as one had a large cavalry advantage, victory was still possible even if one was grossly outnumbered by outflanking and charging the enemy.

So Alexander was determined not to commit such a mistake and present the enemy with an easy opportunity.

Besides, he also guessed that his generals’ motives might not be hundred percent militaristic.

Many of their decisions might be actually directed by the tempting thought of looting the enemy camp and obtaining its vast riches of food, slaves, jewelry, and gold.

But Alexander was there to squash any such greed, and gave the order, “Tell the men to be at ease and rest until the enemy deploys itself. We will only defend this position.”

With this command executed, Alexander and his men spent the next three hours in idle chit-chat, as the enemy showed no sign of coming out.

It seemed that there would be no action today.

Until finally there were some stirrings, some flutter of movement, and a bit of din of chaos from Faruq’scamp.

And this got some of the men on Alexander’s side quite riled up, but soon it was revelated to be a lot of thunder, but no rain.

As contrary to all that hustle and bustle, finally, only a small contingent of riders came slowly forward and tried to approach Alexander in a non-threatening manner.

They were certainly not any soldiers, as the group came forward holding many standards, possibly the family insignia of various noble families, and much opposed to the ordinary riders of Ural or Jahal mercenaries, these men were very well dressed, garbed in flashy, expensive bronze armor, and various gold embellishments.

These were without a doubt noblemen, representing tier individual houses.

“We wish to meet your commander and lord, Lord Alexander,”

Once the group got close enough, just a few meters from the legionaries’ spears, one man, presumably the leader as evidenced by how spectacularly he was dressed in fine armor, and who even wore a gold helmet with a red feather plum called out, while remembering to address Alexander respectfully.

And seeing the man come so close in such a defenseless manner, Alexander had to say that this man had guts.

“Go see what they want.” Hence, Alexander decided to send Menes to greet him, as a way to somewhat reciprocate the other’s status, though he had a pretty good hunch why they would want to talk to him.

“Yes,” Menes accepted the appointment with a nod, and soon greeted the noble at the front,

“My name is Shordar Menes, the commanding general of Zanzan. Who are you? And to what reason do you seek my lord?”

Menes to his credit managed to present himself half-decently, courtesy of the etiquette lessons Alexander had mandated on all of his retainers.

But his blunt question regarding the noble’s identity seemed to have hit a nerve, as the leading man snubbed him by saying, “A mere shordar (baran) is not worth revealing my identity to. Never mind a made-up, fake one we don’t even recognize.”

And then in almost a chastizing tone scolded Menes, and said, “Now go tell you leader he is the one we want.”

This overbearing tone sounding as if they were yesterday’s victors and like it was them doing Alexander a favor by visiting him, made all those who could hear certainly angry, and some hot-headed men in the front even gripped their swords tighter.

Menes too felt his blood rush as he had a bit of an inferiority complex when it came to dealing with nobles, or as he would say, ‘real nobles’.

He always suffered a bit of self-esteem issues due to his low-born status and past slave record, and so would react fiercely when others would look down on him using that fact.

Especially when those people were nobles with long bloodline histories.

“My lord also does not want to talk to anyone who is not a Pasha. And neither do.” Menes angrily replied waving his bulky, armored hand, and then mocked, “So if you want to talk, bring Djose. And if you can’t, then go away.”

The martinet Menes had his own blend of spice, as he turned his horse around and attempted to leave.

It seemed the talks were over even before they could begin.

This abrupt end of negotiations was not something the other side expected, as the opening tough stanch was something they did to put themselves in a better position before the haggling could begin.

But it seemed to have backfired on them as it appeared that the other side did not seem to be in the mood for negotiating.

And so for a moment, the group was unsure about how to proceed.

If they let Menes leave, then the reason for them being here would turn moot.

They could not let that happen because it was really important.

But if they called him back, they would be seen as weak and desperate.

Which would put them on the back foot during the negotiations.

Hence for a brief moment, all the nobles only shared confused looks with each other, unsure how to proceed.

Until finally one broke.

“Wait!” He called out from the back and then quickly blurted out, “We wish to talk to Lord Alexander to surrender and discuss the ransom for the prisoners. Please take us to him.”

The man sounded desperate and impatient, while others sent daggers at him.

The reason for this difference in attitudes was because the few thousand prisoners that Alexander got were not spread out evenly among the nobles.

This occurred because soldiers, or more accurately levies, would always be deployed in units composed of people who were familiar with each other, i.e.- people who were from the same place, which also meant that they served the same lord.

And since Alexander had the bulk of his prisoners from those units placed to the enemy’s right, as that was from where the collapse began, the nobles who had men there suffered the most.

And the man who just now called out was one of the most heavily affected ones.

He was just a shordar (baron) and he really needed those men.

Hence he squeaked first.

Menes turned back hearing the desperate plea, and placed his eyes on the man with a slight, unshaven stubble and thin face, and noticed he even had a few supporters, who appeared equally distressed.

Menes understood that these were the small fries of the noble world, one whose heart bled if even a hundred men died.

This was because shordars (barons) only had around a thousand to at most a few thousand men under him.

“Wait here. I will see what my lord has to say,” Having fished out the reason for the group’s arrival, and even smelling out some of their desperation, Menes replied with a smirk, before riding off.

He was sure Alexander would wring them dry.

And when he notified Alexander of the reason, he simply said, “Okay, let them in. We can talk at the back.”

Alexander was hopeful he would be able to get his first noble retainers from this exchange.

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