Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 150: Organizing the battle plan

The sun was high in the sky when Alpheo rose from the bed with a low growl, irritated by the constant dull throb in his left hand. The wound, though bandaged and treated, sent sharp twinges of pain up his arm with every movement from his hand . His temper flared briefly as he clenched his fist, the night he would drink to numb the pain only for the next day to have his head ache . 

"Damned hand," he muttered, groaning as he pushed himself to his feet. No sooner had he shifted than Ratto appeared in the tent, as if summoned by the sound.

"Were you waiting outside for me?" Alpheo asked, his tone irritated but curious, raising an eyebrow at the speed of his entrance.

Ratto nodded, his posture as stiff and alert as ever. "I was. You mentioned last night that you'd need me when you woke."

Alpheo groaned in frustration. "If the sun is already high in the sky, you can wake me up yourself. Don't stand around waiting like a damned statue."@@novelbin@@

Ratto blinked knowing that Alpheo was more irritable from the pain , as such he nodded without missing a beat. "Shall I call the cooks to bring your breakfast?"

Alpheo grumbled and shook his head, the idea of food making him nauseous. "No, forget breakfast for now. Call Agalasios to check on this bloody hand and then have everyone gather in my tent for a meeting. I need to get this over with."

Without further question, Ratto gave a quick bow and swiftly exited the tent, his footsteps fading into the distance. Alone again, Alpheo exhaled heavily, rubbing his good hand over his face, feeling the stubble beginning to form along his jawline. He glanced around the tent, still feeling the weight of the coming day, before giving in and plopping back onto the bed with a sigh.

His back sank into the mattress as he stared up at the canvas ceiling, the brief comfort of rest tempting him to close his eyes.

Agalosios entered the tent with his usual calm demeanor,breaking any desire Alpheo had to keep sleeping. Alpheo immediately rose from the bed and sat at the rough wooden table, extending his wounded hand toward the physician without a word.

The room began to fill as more and more of his men filed in.