Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 248: Taking the city

Chapter 248: Taking the city

The sun was high above the city of Arduronaven when Alpheo rode through its battered gates, the sound of his horse's hooves muffled by the debris and blood-soaked streets. He sat tall in his saddle, his polished armor glinting in the light, the silver-and-gold cloak of his wife's house draped across his shoulders. His expression was stern, his gaze sweeping over the ruin that had once been the proud city of Arduronaven

Behind him rode his commanders, their banners snapping in the breeze, bearing the sigils of houses loyal to his wife. Each lord carried themselves with the satisfaction of a campaign reaching its crescendo, forgetting that their aid in the campaign had been minimal.

Alpheo's column moved through the streets, flanked by their close guards . The golden steeds, resplendent in their gilded armor, marched in disciplined ranks, as they in fact had their spoils already counted so there was no need to debase themselves as the common footmen .Soldiers clad in mismatched gear laughed and shouted as they helped themselves to the spoils of war, raiding abandoned homes and overturning market stalls.

 Even Alpheo's private army, renowned for their iron discipline and unyielding loyalty, had cast off their usual restraint. Though they moved with methodical precision, their faces betrayed an eagerness to claim their reward, as after weeks of besieging this city they were eager to take in their part.

Looting was everywhere. Soldiers pulled goods from shops, their arms overflowing with stolen wares. Women screamed, some pleading for mercy, others bargaining to keep their families safe, as soldiers had no qualms in getting their victor's due.

 Alpheo had given orders: no indiscriminate killing and no arson, the rest was permitted. But aside from these constraints, the city had been laid bare for the taking. His men seized food, weapons, gold, and more, dragging their prizes back to their camps or pocketing them as their spoils of war.

The air was thick with the mingled smells of smoke, blood, and fear. Alpheo's horse stepped over a discarded merchant's chest, its precious contents scattered across the cobblestones. He barely spared it a glance, just wondering how much silver and copper was in there

Ahead, he could see the keep rising like a grim monument in the city's heart. It was his next destination, the final bastion of resistance. For now, the streets were his, claimed in blood and conquest, and his soldiers were making sure no one would dare dispute it.