Alexander’s vanguard kicked the men off the pathway to clear which caused them to scamper off, but not before dragging the women they were on top of by the hair to continue their act elsewhere.
“Alexander, this is insane! At least, spare the palace!” Ptolomy pleaded with the commander of the army, fearing for the lives of his own family.
“I have asked my men not to touch anyone who is related to you,” Alexander assured though he doubted the men were in any position to listen or remember anything given what he was seeing unfolding in front of him.
Because as he had gotten closer, he could now see better what was happening inside the palace, on the very outer grand hall.
The thick oak doors were opened ajar and on the thick, luscious carpets were many women and maids, all being violated by hundreds of men.
Many screamed and pleaded, many grunted and whimpered, while some seemed to have lost their voices as they obediently took the punishment, fearing more resistance would only mean more pain.
A very few had no men on them, likely because they had either died, lost consciousness, or become too loose.
But whenever these women stirred and tried to run away, some lucky ones even managing to crawl up to the gates, they would be immediately pounced on by the hungry beasts all around looking for fresh meat, whereupon the next round would begin, most of the time at that very same place.
“Menes, find Grahtos and tell him to gain control of his men. We will be staying here.” Alexander said in a flat tone, and received a loud “Yes” in return,
“Let’s go to the dungeon and see the prisoners,” Alexander told Ptolomy to lead the way as he figured a lot of Ptolomy’s supporters should be there.
And soon, the large number of people made their through the outer hall, and into the inner courtyard, and then turned left, traveling along the winding pathway to reach a small, unassuming iron gate.
There seemed to be no one around, the guards likely having run away and the Sycarians also seemed to have not found the place yet as this place still held its tranquility, forming a jarring contrast to the rest of the screaming environment.
The vanguard found the iron gate not locked, its lock neither picked nor broken but likely opened with a key and from the narrow tunnel, echoes of muffled shouts, cries and groans could be heard.
This sound made Ptolomy have a very bad feeling, while Alexander took an educated guess of what was happening and ordered, “Men, lead the way. And remember to keep shouting ‘Those who surrender peacefully will be shown mercy.’ in Azhak.”
“Commander, you…you..,” Princess Hellma stammered as blood ran out of her face because she vaguely understood why Alexander had given the order.
Alexander helped finish the sentence for her, “Many palace guards must have hidden themselves in the dungeon to escape when the palace was taken. And now I’m afraid they have taken a liking to the inhabitants of the cells.”
Alexander then defended the Sycarians, ” It is likely not my men because otherwise, we would have met some of them on the way and because the lock would have been broken, not opened with a key. My men don’t have so much patience.”
“That, that…I..gotta…commander please hurry!” Captain Slow Ptolomy finally understood the implications behind Alexander’s orders and with a pale face and shaky voice urged him to hurry.
Alexander thus sent his vanguard forward, who proceeded down the spiraling staircase chanting the phrase Alexander taught them, and when they reached ground level, the scenery down there was even direr.
The doors of the cell doors laid wide open and just like Alexander had predicted, the Adhanian royal guards were now ‘feasting’ on the people they had been assigned to guard and protect.
Countless bodies, mostly noble men judging by their attire, were thrown out of their cells and onto the cold, damp, pot-riddled prison floor while the noble ladies in their cells, were being forced to know the taste of the common rabble.
People they disdained to even look at most of the time, were now on top of these high-class ladies, most being made to serve multiple men at once.
“Kill them! Kill them all!” Ptolomy screamed in a furious voice Alexander had yet to hear, his voice hoarse and his entire body shaking with rage and unfiltered fury.
The fact that the palace guards, the people entrusted with the protection of the palace were doing this enraged him, but what really set him off was the fact that these nobles were part of his factions and vital to his effort to gain control of the country.
And with them now dead or humiliated, Ptolomy’s job had gotten a hundred times harder.
Although Ptolomy had given the order, it was Alexander’s say that actually meant anything to the soldiers and they soon received clear instructions from him, “Get all the prisoners out and escort them to the palace rooms above. Cover the women with clothes and treat any injuries that they may have if possible.”
Alexander then told them what to do with the palace guards, “Those guards that surrender are to be locked up in the cells. Those who resist are to be killed immediately.”
“What, locked up? Kill them. I want them all dead!” Ptolomy was incensed that Alexander was proposing to let go of these rapists and demanded swift and brutal executions.
“Calm down! I have a plan,” Alexander only placidly replied as his men started rounding up the guards in this huge, sprawling underground structure.
“Plan? What plan? What can these ingrates help us with? Tell me! Tell me now!” Ptolomy launched himself into a harangue, anger taking over his rational mind, as balls of spit started to pepper Alexander’s face.
Ptolomy had become livid as he witnessed the scenes in the dungeon, and vowed in his heart to feed every one of the guards to the dogs.
But now that Alexander seemed to be showing softness to these criminals, his fuse had blown off and he had lost his cool.
Alexander on the other hand kept his cool and slowly turned to his translation while pointing his index toward Ptolomy, “Tell him, if he doesn’t want to get hit, to shut the fuck up.”
The translator did not need to translate as Ptolomy had already understood what Alexander was eluding to by the gesture while the pain of that strike surfaced back up, reminding his jaw of the pain.
So, Ptolomy instead decided to look for his immediate family members- his wife and three daughters and his queen mother.
And soon his eyes caught the sight of a dimly lit cell in the furthest corner of the dungeon, whose door seemed like hadn’t been opened.
He sped towards that corner and shortly after let an eruption of joyous cry, “Oh thank Ramuh, you are all still alive! Oh, thank Ramuh!”
Clearly, his closest kin was still alive and it appeared unharmed.
“Ptolomy? Ptolomy, is that you?”
“Father!” ．
“Daddy!”
Cries of joy also erupted from in the cell.
And his jubilation soon infected the others in his entourage who also quickly went to congratulate their king.
“Mother!” Alexander could hear Hellma’s happy cry and this jovial atmosphere amidst the otherwise tragedy formed a stark contrast.
Alexander was surprised that these women seemed to have escaped the fate that fell on all women around and was about to go ask them when he got his answer as Ptolomy asked them, “Are you guys alright? None of the soldiers harmed you?”
And got this reply, “We are divine beings on earth. Would those mongrels ever dare to touch us?”
The reply was cold and its haughtiness seemed to have been generated from the very bones of its speaker.
The fact that even these rabid palace guards hadn’t dared to touch, let alone humiliate the royal family was a testament to the kind of control the royal family exerted on its citizens.
‘*Sigh*, taking over this city will be hard,’ Alexander felt a slight headache when he thought of his plans to one day take over the city.
How was he to wipe away the brainwashing of the royal family from the populace?
Slaughter them to the last one?
But branch families will always exist.
And so, for the time being, Alexander could see no good answer.
These thoughts swam inside Alexander’s mind as he quietly watched as his men round up the guards, who had been literally caught with their pants down and under the threat of points steep tips could only surrender.
They had thrown their swordbelt along with their pants to perform these acts and now found themselves defenseless, though some desperadoes tried to grapple and tackle their captors, only to be swiftly cut down with practiced efficiency,
Alexander wondered if these were stupid for trying to fight armed mercenaries bare-handed or smart because they knew what Alexander planned to do once he caught them.
“Ptolomy, how are you here? And what’s all the ruckus about?” Alexander could hear a concerned voice ask.
But Ptolomy only reassured them without going into detail, “Don’t worry, everything is all right. I will explain everything in time, But now, let’s get y’ll out of here.”
He then opened the cell door which was surprisingly not locked and urged, “You guys are all cold! Come out quickly and let’s get you warmed up. Everything is alright now!”
And so each of the ladies slowly came out, drawing Alexander’s attention towards them.