Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 256: Words before swords

Alpheo strode through the bustling expanse of his army's camp, his boots crunching over the dry earth. Around him, his soldiers worked with precision, setting up tents, digging trenches, and reworking wood into plank. The air was alive with the clamor of hammers driving stakes, the shuffle of boots, and the occasional bark of an officer giving orders.@@novelbin@@

As he passed, men paused briefly from their tasks, straightening to salute their general. Each raised hand or slight bow was met with a curt nod from Alpheo, his expression calm but focused, he would be lying if he did not admit he liked when people bowed to him as he passed.

The new likings however did not make him blind to the situation, though the soldiers showed little outward complaint, Alpheo could sense the undercurrent of resentment rippling through the camp. It was no mystery why—victory bred satisfaction, and satisfaction bred reluctance. For a soldier, the promise of plunder was often the only incentive for marching into battle, and the first month of this campaign had delivered that in spades.

The Battle of the Bleeding Plains and the subsequent fall of Arduronaven had been lucrative beyond expectation. The coffers of the late Lord Vroghios alone held a staggering 12,000 silverii, and by custom, the soldiers were entitled to a fifth of that sum. Each man received three silverii straightaway, and many had bolstered their share to ten or more with loot taken from the city beyond the lord's keep, that much to thier happiness was declared was theirs to keep.

For men accustomed to living hand-to-mouth, the sudden weight of coin in their pouches dulled the desire to march. After all, what use was risking their lives for more when they hadn't even spent the spoils they already had? When Alpheo announced that the army would be marching again, there had been grumbling in the ranks—low and bitter, though never loud enough to reach their commander's ears.