By this point, everyone had finished with their meals long, long ago, and were only waiting for Alexander to finish his chat.
Which Alexander seemed rather unwilling to finish as he raised another topic.
“Your Majesty is it possible to get the nearby nobles to bring him to your side now that you have Adhan?” Alexander asked.
“That …is unlikely. Most will think Amenheraft can retake the city as I have no army and very little time to raise one.” Ptolomy exposed his vulnerable position. .𝘤𝑜𝑚
‘*Sigh*, I wanted to send some of the temple loot to the nobles to convince them to capitulate. But there’s probably not enough time to send it far away and the nearby nobles might not care for it as they believe Amenheraft will be the ultimate victor. Looks like this will have to wait after I win,’ Alexander reanalyzed and readjusted his plan.
He kept these plans a secret for now but asked, “Do you know if the forces Pasha Farzah smuggled in or some of the forces of nobles sympathetic to you are still present?”
Alexander here was searching for experienced lower and mid-level commanders that could lead troops.
But such optimistic hopes were soon dashed, “When we were in that ambush, one of the spies gloated saying that that the first thing Amenheraft had done was purge the city of all forces loyal to me. The nobles were acquitted but their soldiers had been sacrificed to Ramuh. If not, the army and the city guards you would have had to face would have been much greater.”
Understanding he was all alone in this, Alexander contemplated ditching Ptolomy and running.
But the rewards he could swindle off Ptolomy if he won made him stay and reconsider.
If he could win, he could shave off years, if not decades from achieving his dream.
The upsides were too much, and Alexander felt good about his chances of winning.
In his mind, it wouldn’t be easy, but nothing significant in life was.
So Alexander first reassured Ptolomy, “Your Majesty, I can easily raise a seventy thousand army in two weeks. Do not worry. I took the city with fifteen hundred men, I can hold it against even fifteen hundred thousand.”
Alexander’s over-the-top claim soothed the king a bit but such relief was fleeting as Alexander poked with another problem. “My liege, the nobles that we rescued from the dungeons. Many were killed and humiliated. What does Your Majesty wish to do about that?”
“Obviously kill the bastards who did it and hang their bodies in the city square for all to see,” Ptolomy was shaking with anger and disgust as he thought back on the horrific scenery he had come across.
Then he sent an accusatory look at Alexander and sulkily said, “But, you seem to be against killing them.”
This made Alexander chuckle, as he enigmatically said. “I am not protecting them. They have their uses.”
“What uses?” Ptolomy could not hold back his curiosity.
“You will soon find out soon,” Came the mysterious reply.
Alexander then continued, “And you seem to have misunderstood, I did not mean what you were going to do with people who committed the crimes, but to the people who were affected. What do you intend to do to the nobles?” Alexander clarified his question.
But Ptolomy seemed a bit confused by this, “What do you mean by that? Why should I do anything to those nobles? They support me and are die-hards.”
‘Is he going to force me to kill them too? Like Barzan? No, I have to resist this time. I can’t let myself get pushed around by him like this. I am the king!” Ptolomy produced a steely resolve in his heart.
This was promptly shattered by ALexander’s next statement, “The nobles that have been killed and raped by the palace guards. And the nobles that are being…having their food collected by the soldiers. Do you think when other nobles hear of these, they will be able to distinguish which party committed which crimes? Or do you think they will believe it was done by the invading force? A narrative far suited to the influential Amenheraft.”
By this point Ptolomy was feeling faint at the myriad of problems Alexander was throwing at him, many problems he had never even imagined could exist.
So, he only dispiritedly asked, “What does the commander suggest?”
But Alexander gave no concrete answer, instead saying, “Perhaps the king can discuss with his other counselors and advisors to come up with a solution. Say by tomorrow.”
‘He’s testing him.’ Ptolomy was not smart enough to notice how Alexander was basically giving him homework, but Seelima could, who chose to stay silent and decided to gauge the capabilities of the two men.
“Good, then I will try to find a solution by tomorrow,” Ptolomy, unwittingly, happily took the challenge.
And then Alexander, at last, raised the issue of farming, “Your Majesty, this is the last topic. Have you thought about how to restart cultivation? The farmlands will need to be tilted and planted as soon as possible if we want to have any food next year. But….”
“If we pull too many men from the farmlands into the military, we will starve next year,” The queen mother was quick to catch onto what Alexander was asking.
“That…hmmm, prioritize the army. If we lose the city there will be no next year for us.” Ptolomy made up his mind.
“As you command, Your Majesty,” Alexander nodded in agreement and then excused himself and his men by saying, “Well, we have taken a lot of your time, Your Majesty and it’s time we showed ourselves out. Please enjoy your time with your family.”
Alexander, Cambyses, and the few other captains along with all the guards performed a bow and then exited the royal dining room, freeing the privacy of the royal family.
“*Sigh*, how old is he?” The queen mother was the first to break the silence, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“They say less than twenty.” Ptolomy quickly answered.
“He does not talk like a slave,” Nanazin pointed out.
“He does not talk like a commoner either,” Seelima voiced out.
“He talks like he is our equal,” This time it was Hellma.
“If that was all, then it would have been alright. But sometimes he talks to us like he is our superior,” Ptolomy made a rueful, helpless smile on his face as he said this.
The others turned to look at him at this statement, and seeing the purple bruise underneath his jawline, couldn’t help but agree.
“The soldiers say he is Blessed of Gaia.” Azira squeaked out the words.
“Hmmph, the delusions of the peasant rabble. The fools will believe anything,” Seelima snorted in disdain.
“But he has not the slightest bit of fear when he talks to us,” Nanazin told everyone what she had observed,
“And I have heard only a few talk as elegantly as him,” Ptolomy now had a slight frown on his face
“Right, he talks like grandpa,” Azura said with an enthusiastic nod, referring to Pasha Farzah.
This comparison, to one of the best schemers in the kingdom, ticked Seelima a bit off, who slapped the table and said, “All of you are giving the boy too much. Anyone can behave like that when there are ten thousand men under you, and the opponent has zero.”
“But did those ten thousand men also teach him to talk like that?” It was Hellma who now confronted her mother.
“That saying, ‘There are decades where nothing happens. And there are days where decades happen’ is still ringing in my ear,” Nanazin praised in adoration.
Provided with such ‘hard’ evidence, Seelima found it hard to refute Alexander and so chose to acknowledge some of it, “He certainly has demonstrated very impressive qualities. Far far surpassing anyone close to his age.”
Then she downplayed the accomplishment, “But it’s not right to jump to conclusions. There is an explanation to how a slave is so erudite and we will find it.”
“Perhaps the explanation is he is Blessed by Gaia,” Hellma chirped at her mother, but only got a very big glare for her efforts.
Ptolomy could see Seelima being biased against Alexander and felt a headache coming.
Before this exchange, he would have believed that the queen mother could have used her vast court experience and the royal family’s political leverage to keep Alexander in check as Ptolomy believed Alexander to be a very good mercenary with little social skills.
But that myth had been squarely shattered as Alexander revealed himself to be a supremely and in Ptolomy’s eyes almost omnipotent city governor, able to pick up problems he did not think existed.
“*Sigh*, queen mother, he has told us of hidden problems such as a risk of a riot, how Amenheraft might incite the crowds, the nobles’ reactions, and many more. Also, this is the first time I saw you lose to a battle of words other than with Pasha Farzah. Why are you being hostile to him?”
Ptolomy sincerely wished for these two to get along.
The claim of Ptolomy that she lost a battle of wits with a mere commoner made Seelima quite angry and she shouted, “Hostile? You are asking me why I am hostile when he killed Uncle Barzah!”
At the mention of Barzah, Ptolomy’s face hardened and he said, “Barzah was killed by me because he was a traitor. As the king, I advise you not to defend that turncoat!”
Ptolomy’s tone was unusually imperious, lacking the usually respectful tone towards the queen mother.
They had this conservation before and Ptolomy was getting tired of it.
“Fool, he is just using you. The boy is greedier than the demons and trickier than the devils.” Seelima shouted angrily and stormed out of the room in rage.
A fissure had thus been created in the harmonious family courtesy of Alexander’s handiwork.