Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 53: Northern ambition(3)

Maesinius put his hand on the dark-oak door and pushed it open.The warm and hot air coming from inside the keep clashed with the cold one of the air outside. And as he hollowed in pleasure at feeling the warmth, the people inside were instead shouting obscenities at the prince.

"Close that bloody damn door!" Elenoir's voice cut through the din, punctuated by the sharp thud of her fist hitting the table.

"It's freezing cold outside, you fool!" Elenoir's stister Edmund chimed in, his words laced with irritation.

Meanwhile, their father, seated at the head of the table, remained silent, his attention fixed on his meal as he methodically spooned pea-soup into his mouth.

"Little Prince, sit and break fast with me!" Uther's booming voice called out, his massive frame nearly filling the room as he gestured enthusiastically to the empty seat beside him.Waving his hand almost as if he feared not to be seen

Maesinius complied, closing the door behind him before making his way over to the giant's side. Uther had already pulled out the chair for him.

"The food is shit, but at least the company is good!" Uther bellowed with a hearty laugh, slapping the prince on the back in a friendly manner.

"If the food is not to your liking, then why the fuck don't you go home?" Harold's voice cut through the jovial atmosphere, his tone low and gruff.

Another thud reverberated through the room as the giant's fist collided with the table, sending soup sloshing over the edges of bowls and cups tumbling to the floor. "Is that the way to talk to an old friend?" he demanded. "Did you throw your hospitality to the wolves? Have you not offered bread and ale to your guest?"

As Maesinius settled into his seat, he reached for the wooden spoon laid out nearby and dipped it into the unappetizing soup. With a grimace, he brought a spoonful to his lips, finding the taste as shitty as he remembered

"It was a legitimate question, you giant fucker," Harold shot back, his voice tinged with frustration. "I offered bread and ale to everybody in my hall, and after the hut they all left to raise their forces for the war. Instead, the great Uther keeps pestering my halls, consuming my food. If I did not know better, I would think it was a rat and not Uther break-bones."

"That is a good question, actually, uncle," Edmund piped up. Uther had long been considered an honorary member of the family, and so they had grown accustomed to addressing him as such from a young age.

Uther merely grunted in response, spitting to the ground in a gesture that caused Harold to chuckle silently. "What would I do there? Here I am with friends. Is that not right, little prince?" he directed the question to Maesinius, who nodded in agreement as he tilted the bowl to his mouth, finishing the unappetizing soup.

"Indeed, the truest of friends, Uther," the prince affirmed, setting the empty bowl aside.

"Isn't that right?" Uther glanced around the table, seeking confirmation.

"Still, uncle, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't want to go to war," Elenoir interjected, using her nails to clean her teeth.

Uther chuckled, a sound that carried the weight of years of camaraderie. "It's good you do, though. I can't wait to bury my axe in a southerner's chest. Just like before the 'kneel,' as our grandfathers did!"

"We have a southerner right here," she quipped, pointing at the prince ''and I feel like your axe weep for blood''

Uther's eyes followed her gesture before he shook his head dismissively. "Him? Nay, he is a friend. I want other's blood to be splattered in my face. I shall call my son too; it's time he went to war."

''Isn't he just twelve summers?'' Edmund asked , as if his ass was not just two summer older.

''Just?'' He bellowed ''It's already too late, I was eight when I popped my cherry. He shall raise my fief's troops and lead them with me.It's been so long since the north went to war united , I can barely hold myself'' He licked his lips.

''Well leave someone to me uncle'' Edmund spoke as he raised his wooden spoon to the air

''That's the spirit my boy'' The giant shouted, raising his spoon too.

All eyes turned towards the prince, who continued to leisurely cut through a piece of bread with his knife. Sensing the weight of their stares, he paused, raising an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

"You have hardly spoken. What's up with you?" Elenoir broke the silence, her curiosity evident in her voice.

"Just thinking about some business of mine," the prince replied casually.

"Since when do you have business?" she prodded further.

''from Very early, as it happens,"

"Mind sharing your worries with us?" Harold interjected, his voice neutral.

The prince remained silent for a moment, lost in thought, before finally lifting his head to address his host. "Lord Harold, if you had to choose, who would you think is the most adept noble to be used as an envoy?"

"You're still thinking about the Arlania's business?" Edmund chimed in skeptically "We were enemies just a few months ago," he pointed out.

"He will spit on the ambassador. Bad blood flows between them and the imperials," Elenoir added her own observation.

"That's where you are all wrong," the prince countered, his voice carrying conviction.''Politics is hardly about feelings and more about interests.

Arlania has been a princedom ravaged by war since its inception, sandwiched between two great empires. Their prince has just killed the ruler of one; he fears that they will come knocking for blood. So, when a kingdom rises and secedes from the empire, covering the border that has been occupied by the empire whose ruler they killed, will they not weep in happiness? Knowing that one of their borders is covered by the people which will have to face the brunt of the empire's campaigns?"

"Not to mention our need for grain," he continued. "When we speak of that, the prince himself will kneel and praise the gods. Arlania has always been a great producer of grain, yet to whom have they sold it? The Azania Sultanate has no need for it; they produce their own.Only some merchants are given the privilege to come and sell to us. So, when he gets to know that a new kingdom is searching for someone to sell them grain, and that it will prevent their land from being invaded by the empire, he will be more than happy to join hands with us.I would be surprised if he were to refuse. Maybe they could even be convinced to form an alliance."

None said anything for a few moments, then Elenoir was the first to speak ''How do you do that?''

''Do what?''

She gestured ''that'' , he did not understood ''You act as if you already know what other's people will be doing. ''

The prince pursued his lips , what he did was nothing great.One just had to see things from another perspective and hope that the person the are dealing with is not a fool or a madman.

He shrugged ''I just can. Politics are all the same , it's not hard to predict one action if we knows thier current situation and needs''

''More importantly are you alright with it?'' Edmund asked as he eyed the prince

''With what?'' He retorted

''Joining hands with your father's killer''

The prince resumed the cutting as if he was not bothered by it ''Family interest should comes after politcal ones. The blame falls more under the previous emperor then with the Arlanians''

''Your father'' Uther pointed out

The prince hummed in confusion as he raised his gaze

''Not the previous emperor '' Uhter corrected, ''your father''

He looked at Uther with a neutral expression than spat on the ground , after that he turned his head and resumed breaking the bread.The answer on that was clear enough.

Gratios was no father of his.

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