Herald of Steel

Ptolomy had already understood his time on the throne was up.

What he was really asking Nulafzam was ‘How to escape?’

“Master, if we want to have any chance at survival, we must leave now. My sister will take you with open arms.” Nulafzam offered.

Then the man urged his master “I have already noticed strange gazes while coming here and many soldiers tried to ask me about the details of the battle. The winds have already changed and they are not in our favor.”

Ptolomy let out a heavy sigh and determined said, “Then let’s go now. We are ready.”

After that, he knocked on the door and it was pushed open by a fair, dainty hand, revealing a beautiful young girl in a commoner’s cloth.

Behind her were two burly men, each carrying heavy sacks on both their hands and back.

As the small, gilded shoes soundlessly trekked across the stone floor, Nulafzam bowed and greeted, “Greeting, Princess Hellma.”

The wheat-colored girl, with a simple ornament adorning her dyed black hair, soundlessly nodded and then stood beside her brother, her limpid eyes seemingly unconcerned by the perils that lay ahead.

“From this moment on, we are no longer royalty. Do not bow to address as such in public.” Ptolemy instructed.

And though such a command, wounded the spy’s heart, he still understood and complied, “As you wish, master Ptolomy.” .𝗰𝗼𝗺

Amenheraft would surely send his armies to hunt down his father’s killers, and escaping would be much harder if they stood out like sore thumbs among the general populace.

“I am also no longer Ptolomy and she is no longer my sister, Hellma. From today, I am Ankesh and this is my slave Numean. I am the heir to a small noble family in Leguna and I came to Adhan to secure some food from Pundit Muazz. And you are my family’s guard.” Ptolomy explained his cover story.

“Understood, lord Ankesh. Then please follow me.” Nulafzam did not spare much more words, as he almost herded the people out of the palace through the passage.

He had felt it when he was coming here and knew it was rapidly turning dangerous for the rebels, especially the royal siblings.

Many nobles who rebelled might choose to defect once more and hand the two to Amenheraft for amnesty.

Thus, once the most powerful man in Adhania and his sister- the famed beauty of the kingdom- were forced to tuck their tail between their legs and run from the very city they once ruled.

In addition, they could take almost nothing of value they owned with them, afraid such glitter will attract the eyes of bandits or worse the mercenaries still outside the city.

So, with a handful of coins, and little food and water, they appeared outside the secret passage where now a contingent of about fifty riders awaited them.

Out of the tens of millions of people he once lorded over, out of the hundreds of thousands he commanded as the army, this was the entirety of people considered loyal by Ptolomy, a mere fifty, not five thousand, not even five hundred but just fifty, less than many merchants would have to protect their wares.

But Ptolomy had little time to wallow in his lack of influence and after he and the spies donned their armor, they straddled their horse and rode.

Waving the banner of the royal family, they rode like the wind, not one checkpoint daring to stop the mass of fifty soldiers waving the flag of Ramuh.

As Nulafzam felt the rush of wind in his face, his eyes all of a sudden spotted a large trail of smoke on the horizon, which he found most unusual.

Because the smoke seemed to come from the inner district which housed the nation’s elites and was an unlikely place for a fire to start as there were protocols that were in place to stop any such occurrences.

This was added to the fact that it had just rained and most places were still damp and wet, miserable conditions for a fire to start.

So in Nulafzam’s mind, only one word appeared- sabotage.

‘But who? And were they friends or foes’ He asked himself.

The group of riders managed to escape the shadowy clutches of the city at the nick of time, because while they were busy running, Amenheratf was entertaining a few unusual guests.

These ‘guests’ lay prostrated on the ground in front of him, crying, pleadings, and asking for his forgiveness.

Many even offered their own life in exchange for amnesty for their families!

Yes, these were the rebels, some of whom sneaked here to swear fealty to their new king, after bearing witness to the miracles he performed.

Amenheratf looked at these craven despots with unfeeling eyes and an unmoved heart.

But as much as wished, unfortunately, he understood the reality that he could not kill them all like he actually wished to.

Because such drastic measures would inevitably push these and other nobles who were on the fence off the edge and with nothing to lose, they would fight him to the bitter end, only prolonging the suffering for everyone, with nothing but personal satisfaction to gain for Amenheratf.

A lesser, more impulsive lord, like Amenheratf’s father, might have chosen such a course of action, but not him.

So he was now left to figure out how to properly punish them.

He racked his brain to arrange the appropriate level of punishment that maximizes their pain and suffering without causing them to rebel and soon came up with a blueprint.

“Whoever brings me Ptolomy and Hellma will receive special consideration.” Amenheratf made a standard declaration.

None of the rebel nobles were surprised by this classic move, a move so classic, that calling it classic would be considered classic.

But classics were called classics because they worked.

Capturing the rebelling royals would essentially decapitate the rebellion as the nobles would have no one legitimate to rally behind.

And understanding this these nobles had already asked their forces in the city to capture Ptolomy if the situation presents itself, though they did think such a scenario was highly unlikely.

They had all assumed that Ptolomy would hole himself inside the palace and choose to defend his city to his dying breath and never considered the young rebel would so decisively simply leave the nest and fly away.

The reason why Ptolomy had done so was because he was under no illusion that once the soldiers learn of Amenheraft’s three miracles, most will desert him at the drop of a hat.

Only Nulafzam and the fifty people who followed him were ideologically and personally motivated enough for him to trust them.

Add to the fact that Amenheraft had an army and the army sent to help Ptolomy had been defeated twice by Amenheraft himself, flight was the only real option for Ptolomy.

But without having the time to consider such minor intricacies, and not knowing their prey had already escaped to the woods, each of the nobles made more grandiose claims than the other, blaming everything on Ptolomy and trying to wash themselves of any guilt.

It seemed the fault of their rebellion was everyone else’s except theirs.

But such blathering did not move Amenheraft one bit.

“We were coerced, Your Majesty.”

“We were threatened, Your Majesty.”

“We were forced, Your Majesty”.

“Ptoloy held our access to food and water as hostage, Your Majesty.”

“We were bewitched by that sorceress Hellma, Your Majesty.”

Everyone had an excuse for everything, except the true excuse, except the true reasons they all threw their dice with Ptolomy.

And Amenheraft wanted to hear them say it from their own mouth.

Fed up with this nonsense, the king spoke languidly and almost dismissively, “I have had a very long day and I am tired of hearing these trites I have heard a million times before.”

“So unless you are interested in telling me the truth why you rebelled, then leave. I will decide your punishment once I take back my city.” He issued a naked threat.

This frankness surprised the nobles.

Usually, veteran politicians like them spoke in a roundabout, equivocal way because it left all the participants with multiple ways to interpret a saying and thus enabled them to circumnavigate any landmines they might accidentally set off.

So they were caught off guard by the king’s demands to so openly incriminate themselves.

Noticing the nobles’ reluctance but not a total rejection of his proposal, Amenheraft pushed them more, ” Whatever you say as your reason, I will not treat you any differently for it. I swear it by the name of my father Ramuh.”

Then he openly said, “You all rebelled because you thought Ptolomy could give you things I could not. I am more interested in knowing the things you desire and coming to an agreement to prevent such uprisings in the future.”

This display of political foresight moved the nobles, many of who had grown disillusioned with the previous king’s rule and considered Amenheraft to be the same bad apple from the bunch.

But it seems they were wrong, because this time, the apple had likely fallen far from the tree.

They also were aware that if Amenheraft truly decided to look into it, he would be able to uncover most of their skeletons in the closet.

So a few of them decided to reveal these themselves and try and earn some browny points.

“I did it for revenge for my wife and daughter.” A middle-aged noble blurted out.

“A lot of us did.” Another joined in.

“I believed the king had lost the mandate of heaven.”

“Ptolomy promised me the hilly mines.”

“I smuggled ores into Tibias and they blackmailed me.”

Once one confessed, it seemed the floodgates had been opened, and all their dirty desires and wishes came pouring out to wash Amenheraft’s feet.

And the king listened with relish as he demonstrated the ability to manipulate and channel his will into the minds of his subjects.

The sign of a true politician,