Chapter 85: The Sons of Nicopola

The Sons of Nicopola

The three envoys had been waiting in the midday sun. They had asked to find some shade, but the guards and knights gave only a lukewarm response. Thus, they settled to wait in an awkward and heavy atmosphere.

Suddenly, a young man exited, looked around fiercely at the three envoys, and spoke to one of the knights. “The Lord is willing to entertain the envoys.”

The tall and imposing knight grumbled, spat on the grass, and said to the envoys, “Well, you got your chance. Don’t say I didn’t treat you right.”

The envoys hurriedly moved inside, welcoming the cool shade and sweet floral fragrance.

“Behold, the Lord of Korelia, the Protector of Korimor, the Leader of the Grand Alliance, and the Noyan of the Lowlandia Tribesmen,” a squire heralded.

The envoys bowed their heads in unison toward a man in brightly colored clothing slouched on a padded chair. Indeed, he had black hair.

“My Lord, we Nicopolans bid our welcome to this area,” said one of the envoys, a stout-looking soldier.

Another followed up, “What happened between the city and our people is unfortunate, but we’re willing to make amends.”

“Amends?” Lord Lansius laughed.

Seizing the moment, the third envoy brought forward a lacquered jewelry coffer. “Please accept a gift from our leader.”

Two of the envoys looked excited, but the soldier appeared anxious.

The Lord’s knight intercepted the intricate wooden box and broke the wax seal in front of them. When he opened it, a pungent odor emanated from the box. The knight’s eyes widened, while two of the envoys panicked. One gasped while the other shrieked in fear and nearly lost his footing.

The squires reacted by drawing their swords, but the Lord waved them off. “Let me see,” he commanded.

“Don’t let them near the Lord,” the knight barked at the squires. Then, more politely to his Lord, “My Lord, it’s an insult.”

The Lord rose from his seat to take a look at the jewelry box. Meanwhile, the two envoys cowered in fear, while the stout man visibly fumed.

“Ah, what a gift,” the Lord said, his tone surprisingly fascinated by the grotesque object. “Signet rings complete with the cut-off fingers. So, intimidating.”

“This is a preposterous insult. They should all be flogged,” suggested the knight.

“Oh, they’ll have their flogs, but after I’m done with them,” said the Lord. “I wonder what embalming he used to remove the stench.” He then gazed at the envoys and asked, “Should I return the favor?”

Realizing the hinted intention, the two envoys dropped to the ground, their faces pale, and they began to beg.

“My Lord, please listen. I don’t know about the content. I’m just a tradesman who dealt with Nicopolan nobles. Sergio told me to talk sweet and present you this gift.”

“My Lord, we didn’t know. Sergio set us up. He must’ve wanted us to die,” said another one.

"And I intend to deliver," replied the Lord with bizarre enthusiasm. "This is a game I can't lose. He aimed to intimidate me, and I shall retaliate in kind."

The envoys were paralyzed with fear. The one who had offered the jewelry coffer began to weep, while even the stout man dropped to his knees as if pleading for mercy. But the Lord was far from finished. "My scouts found human remains in a cauldron in the forest. Perhaps I should boil you three alive."

Madness flickered in his eyes, unnerving the envoys, who could only beg for their lives.

"No, wait," the Lord suddenly exclaimed. "That wouldn't work. That would only feed him." He then erupted into laughter, joined by his staff and knights.

The Lord finally added, "I bet this Sergio will gladly chug a soup made from you three. He must truly despise you to have sent you here."

In desperation, one of the envoys threw themselves at the Lord’s feet. “My Lord truly knows. This Sergio, he didn’t like us. He wanted us to die so he could control our families and followers.”

Lansius coughed several times and returned to his seat. His squire readily offered a goblet of water, which Lansius took and drank.

“Gentlemen, I understand your plight. But to me, you’re all already dead.”

“My Lord, please...” the envoy begged.

"You're mistaken," the Lord corrected them. "If I let you return unharmed, Sergio would likely become suspicious. He might conduct a sham trial, accuse you of colluding with me, and then execute you and your family."

Hearing the Lord’s explanation, the three envoys started to feel angry at Sergio’s treachery.

The Lord ignored their reaction and talked to his knight. “It’s not a bad strategy, using my hand to kill them and gain their followers’ loyalty. A dishonorable method, but who are we to judge?”

“My Lord, my name is Servius,” the stout-looking envoy exclaimed, his strong voice gathering attention. “I’m loyal only to my legion, and I have influence over two hundred fighters.”

“Oh, that must be the reason why he wants you to die,” quipped the Lord.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“He suspected me of having contact with one of your agents,” Servius tried to explain.

“Lady Daniella?” asked the one-eyed knight who just arrived.

Servius looked at the newcomer and sighed in regret. “Unfortunately, I never met her. But the ones working with her have been rounded up and killed. Many were people who I have shared battles with.”

The Lord sized up Servius and asked, "Why don't you and your men stand up to him?"

“It’s because I don’t trust my own men," he said with regret. "This Sergio has a reputation as a savior. Time and time again, he has proven capable of bringing food to the table as long as they do exactly as they’re told. This is why your agent’s plan failed. Somebody must’ve talked.”

Servius' explanation made both envoys cower. Sergio, the Tarracan Man, was a figure they both feared and revered.

The Lord let out a sigh. “I lost interest. Guards, take them out.”

The envoys panicked and were about to beg, but the knight stood tall, threatening them. “My Lord, how about their escorts?”

The Lord rolled his eyes and replied grimly. “Let them watch.”

The knights and squires drew their swords, leaving the envoys with no choice but to accept their fate. The squires then tied them and covered their heads before sending them outside.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

***

Nicopolan Camp

People flocked to the east side of the camp where they could watch from a distance how the three envoys were paraded on top of carts. They were subsequently tied and flogged mercilessly until they all fainted.

Despite pleas from multiple people, Sergio refused to send help, saying, "This is what the enemy wants. They must have a force ready to ambush us. While it pains me to see my trusted fellow Nicopolans being treated like this, we must endure."

As the crowd grew larger and more restless, he rallied them, "Sons of Nicopola, hear me out! This Lord of Korelia is an evil man. I offered him gifts worthy of high nobles, and yet he tortured our cherished envoys. What kind of Lord harms a messenger? He is brutal, no doubt, and any attempt to resolve this amicably would be futile. But now is not the time to act. To move now would be to fall into their trap!"

The situation put heavy pressure on the group that wanted to resolve the issue peacefully. Now, they had no counter-argument against Sergio’s insistence on offering battle.

Meanwhile, the three victims of Sergio’s power play were kicked off the cart and left to fend for themselves. Only afterward did their escorts finally muster the courage to help them.

The rest of the Nicopolans also rushed to their rescue.

Sergio wore a face of regret and a pained expression, but deep down he was happy. The only better outcome would have been for all three to die, but even this would prevent anyone from voicing support for a diplomatic solution. He felt he had won the first battle of wits.

Tonight, he would gather the council of Nicopolan leaders and ask for their total support for a pitched battle. This new Lord of Korelia threat had to be dealt with before they could prepare a defense.

Sergio had enough crossbow bolts, long pikes, and heavy armor to execute a fairly recent strategy: the pike and shot. It would be something that a Lowlandian like Lord Lansius would never expect.

He planned to bait the Korelian cavalry and spring a trap, annihilating them in one go. This was why they didn’t evacuate to the wooded area and stayed in the plains despite the disadvantage and the opponent’s large cavalry presence.

This seemingly massive tactical mistake from the Nicopolan side was in reality a trap. The same one that had worked against the knights of southern Nicopolis and the Umberland cavalry. And now, the Nicopolans under Sergio had become experts at it.

***

Servius

With battered bodies, the envoys were brought back to the Nicopolan camp to a heroes’ welcome. Sergio met them, pressuring them not to divulge his gift to Lansius, lest their beloved family members suffer a horrible death. Afterward, the three were led to their respective tents to receive treatment.

Servius lay face down on a bed of hay. His clothes were torn and stained brown with dried blood, as was his skin. His cousin ground medicinal herbs into a paste, while his son provided him with wine to dull the pain.

Even without a whip, using just a straight wooden stick, the flogging had been painful and hard on the body. He couldn’t even sit and simply tried to shake off the pain from his back.

After applying a thin layer of medicinal paste as an ointment, there was little else they could do but let the patient rest. Servius fell asleep only to awaken during sundown.

He drew a deep breath and smelled a strong iron scent inside his tent. His family was boiling their rations of watery gruel. Despite his claims about how heroic the trio had been, Sergio refused to give his family more unless they participated in the night watch.

They were bitter about Sergio but felt powerless against him. Worse, they knew that Sergio had planted spies to watch them.

Hearing his family talk about Sergio, Servius recalled the events of that midday. He remembered sitting on the cart, his hands and legs tied, under a cloudy sky. Amid the creaking of cart wheels over uneven terrain and the sporadic neighing of horses, he’d had an unexpected conversation.

Unbeknownst to most, Lord Lansius, in disguise, rode beside Servius’ cart as the envoys were escorted to the field where they would be flogged.

Lansius’ words still echoed in Servius’ ears: “Do you know why I ordered this?”

Servius recalled that he’d wanted to spit but fear had made him shake his head.

“It’s to save you from Sergio.”

The words prompted Servius to do a double-take.

“Why did Sergio send you with that box of fingers? I think it’s because he fears you. He needs you to die.”

Servius could only exhale bitterly.

“You hesitated. You fear him.”

“I do not,” Servius shook his head. “I fear for my family and my men.”

“Then endure the pain. It’s ironic, but this is the only way to keep you alive; otherwise, this Tarracan Man will become suspicious and kill you outright.”

“Why are you doing this?” Servius asked.

“Do you want to save your family?” Lord Lansius replied, dodging the question.

Jumping to conclusions, Servius warned, “You want me to assassinate Sergio? That’s impossible. After your agent’s failure, it’s difficult to even get close to him. He’s surrounded at all times.”

However, the Lord seemed to have another idea. “How many did you say are under your influence?”

“Two hundred, but if I make my move, another three hundred will join, along with possibly five hundred unarmed people.”

“That’ll do,” said Lord Lansius, surprising Servius.

“I can’t rush at Sergio, not even in the middle of your attack. He’ll place me far away and put his men in my path.”

“You don’t have to. Instead of fighting, run to the woods.”

“Run...?”

“Spread the word that you have a backup plan in the woods if Sergio fails in the war.”

“But that still requires victory,” Servius warned. “At least a decisive win to break the morale of Sergio’s men. A rout won’t happen if he’s still alive.”

“Then I shall defeat him,” declared Lord Lansius.

Even Servius was astounded by the man’s conviction and couldn’t help but warn him, “How can you beat him? He has the numbers and the supplies. Don’t be fooled by the location of the camp; it’s well-fortified. The men are well-armed and equipped against cavalry attack.”

“It’s true that he has greater numbers and probably better fighters, also equipped to handle cavalry attack. However, that will amount to nothing. Just a tragedy waiting to happen.”

The calmness stemming from sheer conviction moved Servius, who had long sought to split ways with Sergio and his diabolical rise to power. “What will you do with the people under me if you win this?”

“Nothing but grant them the freedom to find a job and feed their families.”

“My Lord, we’re not farmers.”

"Then your men shall fight for me. Food in exchange for bravery in battle. This is Lowlandia; you won't find easy living here."

Servius heaved a long sigh but nodded his head.

"I suppose Sergio wouldn't plan for a general attack, given that his strong point is the camp. Fortunately, this will give you time to think. Remember this well: three days from now, when the night is burning, you must provide me with an answer," warned the Lord sternly. "Fail to do so, and all your men and their families will not survive this war."

***