Herald of Steel

"How many have we got," Samaras asked in a low growl, trying hard to suppress his raging fury.

"About half." Came Damious's flat reply.

"*Grit*" Samaras ground his teeth in frustration.

They were already outnumbered and now a quarter of his total forces had rebelled.

"Not one fucking cent to these animals." He cursed out loud.

This all started with that abominable rumor. It spread like wildfire throughout the ranks so fast that the command had virtually no time to react.

Even before they knew what was going on, Damious was confronted by a group of mercenary leaders demanding to see general Agapios.

"We would like to offer some of our medicines to the general." They claimed.

And when Damious wanted to accept those on behalf of the late general, they insisted that it be them who gives it to him personally.

After Damious categorically shut them down, they demanded, "We want some of our late payment."

This time it was Samaras's turn to be in the hot seat.

He came to meet the group after learning about the commotion and reassured them that all dues will be paid by the end of the campaign as stated in the contract.

He swore no one would be cheated out of a single coin.

This seemed to placate the group a bit but still, some doubt kept gnawing inside the heads of a few leaders.

They felt Samaras was hiding something and not telling them the entire story.

Being mercenaries they had little to no loyalty to Samaras, especially when they were losing, so they decided to use the things said in the rumor such as the contract being between them and Agapios to demand either arranging a meeting with Agapios, getting some of their dues back or drawing up a new contract.

"The contract will be what it is." Samaras unequivocally rejected drawing up a new one. Then he threatened, "You have sworn an oath to the gods, do you intend to break it?"

"The gods witnessed the contract between General Agapios and us. We have broken nothing." A hot-headed mercenary leader name Petricuno shouted.

"Yeah, you are just a cheat trying to swindle us." Another one chimed in, fanning the flames even more.

"Who said that?" Samaras roared like an enraged lion and furiously started searching the group for the voice as if someone had just stepped on his tail.

Of all the things that the rumor spread, that particular accusation got him the most.

Because he was actually innocent of any such embezzlement.

He swore in his heart if he caught who started this rumor, he would tear him limb to limb.

"Please calm down Commander Samaras." A wizened, mature voice spoke out from the crowd.

He was Menicus, the oldest mercenary leader in the group.

"Alcmene didn't mean anything by it. We are all hungry, cold, and exhausted, so some of our tempers are running a bit high. Please forgive him." He soothingly said.

Although this seemed to mollify the enraged commander a bit, he still kept looking at the man as if he wanted to swallow him whole.

"Hmph, all of you get your troops ready, now!" He commanded in a harsh tone.

"Ahem, about that," Menicus coughed, preparing himself to make his case.

"We have no intention of breaking our contract. But many of our soldiers feel dejected after today's loss. A small part of the remunerations now would greatly boost morale and motivate the soldiers to fight." He politely stated.

In essence, Menicus wasn't asking to be paid back in full right now, but only a partial repayment.

"Everyone will be paid accordingly once the campaign is over."

But Samaras refused even this compromise, again repeating the same hackneyed words he spoke before.

In fact, Samaras could not really be faulted for this.

Because he was broke!

Like truly broke.

The original plan was to use the mercenaries to win the battle, meet up with Ptolomy and have him bear the cost or let the mercenaries sack the capital.

Whatever meager sum Samaras had at his disposal, he gave all of it to Damious to win his loyalty.

He had hoped Damoius's prestige and muscle could quell all dissents from the other mercenary groups and make them follow him but he had grossly overestimated the mercenary representative's hold on the other groups.

Hearing Samaras reject even this lowered compensation, Menicus did not launch a counterargument.

Surprisingly, he just nodded and asked to be excused politely, "I understand. Then please grant us some time to gather our soldiers and get ready."

"What! He…"

" Let us get ready, Regias." Menicus sternly cut him off, glaring at the short man.

Regias in turn only lowered his head in indignation.

Soon the leaders made their exit under Samaras's fierce eyes, exiting Samaras's camp in silence, a heavy cloud of dejection hanging about the air around them. most sulkily looking at Menicus on the way.

"All of you are blaming me, thinking that I simply bent my spine and accepted whatever Samaras demanded, isn't that right?" Far away from the main camp, Meniscus finally turned his face to the crowd and asked them in a knowing voice.

"*Sigh*, some of you youngsters are too rash." He shook his in disapproval, letting out a long deep breath.

"What if Samaras had decided to take us hostage? Or worse simply slayed us then and there? Have you ever paused to think about that?" He asked.

"That..old man, aren't you being too paranoid. How could he do that?" The one who called Samaras a cheat and scammer- Alcmene asked in a bewildered tone.

"People have done far stupider things in wars, especially in losing wars, boy" Menicus stated in an experienced voice.

"And why do you think he could not do it, huh? He could have taken us hostage, and threatened to execute us if our soldiers refused to take part in the attack. Or he could have executed us and forcibly integrate the mercenary groups into the Cantagenan ranks. I personally would have executed the leaders and elected new leaders from each mercenary group's ranks with the promise of huge rewards if they fought for me." Menicus stated some ominous outcomes.

"That …that." This time it was Regias who started to stammer, finding it hard to find the words to counter the old man.

"Don't expect a losing man to do things rationally. Samaras is a drowning man, and a drowning man clutches at a straw. That's why I said the things I had to say in front of him. To appease him and get us out of that place as quickly as possible. Do you understand me, you little pups?" Menicus rhetorically asked in a triumphant voice.

In fact, it was quite scary how close Menicus was to the truth.

In truth, Samaras did have half a mind to arrest or execute these mercenary leaders and then force the soldiers under him to fight for him.

But there was also the risk of the mercenaries turning around and attacking him just like he wanted to attack them.

These men were no sheep but fierce warriors.

There was also his concern with Damious.

How would he react to him doing such things?

What if Damious chose to stab him in the back at the critical moment?

The man was a mercenary after all.

And even if he could do all this successfully, he still lacked the necessary time.

He would need days, if not weeks to finish integrating and consolidating his new forces and by that time the cauldron would have been closed, its occupant liquidated and the Adhanians would probably have packed and gone home.

The risks far outweighed the rewards and so he chose not to take such drastic actions.

Because failure would mean the literal complete destruction of his army.

"So what do you suggest we do now, old man?" A third voice, that of Petricuno chimed.

Since Menicus got them out by promising Samaras aid in battle, the crowd by default looked at him for what to do next

"*Shake*, I don't know and that's up to you to decide individually." Menicus shook his head, anti-climatically drowning everybody's expectations.

But before anybody could flare up and curse him, he craftily suggested, "If you are worried about the promise to attack, just say your soldiers refused and you can't do anything about it."

This drew a lot of knowing smirks from the mercenary leaders.

But the old man wasn't finished yet. He started again, "Although I can't tell you what to do, let me offer you my two cents. General Agapios is most probably dead and Samaras doesn't have the coin to pay, not even a small part of it."

The leaders weren't too surprised by the first part. They were smart people who could read the clear signs.

If just meeting Agapios could quell all the dissent, Samaras most certainly could have arranged it long ago.

But the last part drew astonished gazes from all the others.

Because their employer was Cantagena who was well known to be always generous to their mercenaries and always paying their dues on time.

So it was generally acknowledged that being employed by Cantagena was a safe option and many mercenaries here chose to heed Cantagena's call because of its good reputation.

Hence it seemed unlikely to them that Cantagena would be willing to damage its reputation for decades just for a one-time gain.

But as they would find out soon, this time Cantagena was indeed willing to do so!