Herald of Steel

With the imminent collapse of the bridge on the horizon, the rescue effort of the Margraves continued with great haste and a flurry of movements, producing a lot of shouts, cheers, and order.

However aborad the decks, instead of a general blossoming of brotherhood and camaraderie at having fought side by side and survived all kinds of perils together, the two factions instead began to develop a deep sense of acrimony and bitterness.

This was because more and more of them found themselves fighting their brethren for the limited space aboard the deck.

These ancient warships were usually topped up with as many men as they could possibly hold, in order to maximize their attacking and defensive prowess, just like how modern ships would be fitted with all their armament before any engagement.

Thus there was never really a lot of additional room for more men.

Hence the situation developed as such that the rescuers were fighting to defend their place aboard this floating sanctuary, while the rescued wished to push them aside to make room for themselves as well as their brothers stuck atop.

It was a tug of war that neither side was willing to give an inch, with one side cursing the other for being ungrateful over their rescue, while the other claimed it was their right to take their place, declaring in a very officious, demanding way,

"Dammit! Why didn't you capture the enemy ships just as the general told you to? Then we could have all survived. Surely it's because you were cowards and deserters. Move! You deserve to only hang!"

You had to give it to the Heeat family soldiers, they were experts at getting under people's skin.

The Margraves were on their home turf and were saving the other side from certain doom, yet the Heeat soldiers acted as if they owned the place.

The fact that the green men had not shoved these ungrateful wretches to their watery depths paid great testament to their patience.

As for the query of why the Margraves did not capture one of Alexander's many ships and repurpose it, well the answer was simple- they could not.

They had of course tried as described earlier, but instead of an easy boarding followed by a breezy massacre, they were met with staunch resistance and after a while of fierce fighting, left with a lot of corpses and a good, bloody nose.

Those ships were not as 'undefended' as Achillas had made them sound out to be.

Of course, if the Margraves had the time on their hands, they might have been able to win by simply using their sheer numbers, but by then, it might not have mattered anymore. Their rescue targets would have already become fish food.

But how were the Margraves officers going to explain this complex topic to a group of enraged, testosterone driven muscular hulks who seemed to be only looking for someone to lay the blame on?

Thus they only pursed their lips and let the words enter through one ear and leave through the other, not wishing to cause any trouble and praying for the rescue attempt to finish the very next second if possible.

This was not the best approach, as the other side found the silence not as a sign of respect but one of weakness, and thus wished to exploit it even more, pushing, shoving, elbowing, and cursing the Margraves to high heaven with much greater alacrity.

It seemed in this trying space, the general disdain the Heeat soldiers had for their Margraves counterparts had begun to rapidly manifest into something much darker, much more confrontational.

And facing this constant poking and prodding, the hot blooded Margraves troops too soon began to push back, resulting in quite a few overboard instances and even two drownings, one from each side.

These deaths soon worked to make the air around these parts go from being just heavy with dislike and anger to extremely confrontational, letting the air currents buzz with electricity as if a storm was about to break out any moment.

A storm of steel and blood.

Anoon and Ser Robert watched all this bad blood develop from the safety of their flagship with a pallid yet disappointed face.

Pallid because they did not want to add fuel to the smothering fire, afraid an excited or favoring one side over the other intervention might suddenly ignire the dry firewood into a full fledged inferno, with the troops taking the situation to the next, bloody level.

And disappointed because they were lampooning the fact they had missed finishing the enemy's commander off for this.

It felt like discovering gold, the shine of it dazzling the eye, but just as they were about to pick it up, suddenly being told to leave it for a big pile shit.

Or perhaps this was something even less than that because at least you can use that for something useful such as fertilizer or fuel, whereas these Heeat soldiers seemed there to only cause trouble.

But what do they do about it now? They had already made their bed and all there was left to do was sleep on it.

Thus with a resigned sigh, Anoon turned to offer his commander,

"The four ships are already full. Should we transfer some of the men here?"

After observing the current state of the situation, this was what the man thought was the best course of action.

"No! Leave them!" However, the reply from his commander was completely opposite, one that was curt, cold, and no devoid of any care.

"Wha.. what?" The abruptness was such that the black adjutant was forced to widen his eyes in shock, stammering and appearing as if he had misheard the words.

The cold, calculating personality was his jig, so why was the other side putting that hat on?

Besides, wasn't he the one who was fighting to save the Heeat soldiers in the first place?

They had even gotten into this mess because of it. If they had only shut up and obeyed Lord Bernard, none of this would have perhaps happened. They would be already back on land, sipping good wine.

Ser Robert seemed to detect his adjutant's thoughts from the look of incredulity he was giving him, and so in a rare instance of great sobriety, pointed with his right index finger in a didactic gesture, and chimed,

"Look! Our four ships are holding around fifteen hundred men, a thousand of ours and five hundred of theirs… give or take. That is enough. Saving half is sincere enough. We can leave the rest to fate."

"....." Anoon was a bit caught off guard by this attitude.

'What about the other half? What happens to them? And how do you know if this is enough?' He quickly then shouted in his mind in rage, as he found the premature conclusion reached by his superior on his own highly dubious.

General Achillas as well as his soldiers had shown themselves to be highly demanding and so it made Anoon wonder where Ser Robert had gotten his math.

Did he read the general's mind? If not then, the cautious Anoon wanted to save the troops above, just to be sure, and maximize his own survival.

So the black man decided to contest this decision.

However given Ser Robert's cold and already made up his mind demeanor, the man did not choose a straight path of action, but tried to interject in a soft, guiding way,

"Shouldn't we try our best? Just so the lord cannot accuse us of laziness? We already have taken half, so let us try our best to take the other half too."

Anoon hoped the mention of Lord Parker would work to soften the man and commit all five ships to the effort, not just four.

However this time there was no dice, as Ser Robert replied in a short, yet very sharp and succinct manner,

"The four ships are already full. Too full. I am not going to risk taking any more here. My and my men's priorities go above all else. Even above the worries of the scion of a duke!."

You had to give it to the man, when he decided to put his foot, he really put his foot down. Not many could defy the existence of Lord Parker just like that.

But it seemed after seeing the rest of his ships get filled up to the point they were at risk of capsizing, Ser Robert wisely decided to leave his ship out of it.

He feared that if he were to join the fray, then his ship too would become the same, over encumbered and tethering the edge of floating and sinking.

After all, those men stuck atop the bridge were understandably desperate. Interacting with them in any way would get his ship stuck in the kerfuffle too.

And even if he did, it would not likely be enough to make in all the Heeat soldiers.

So instead of fruitlessly trying to do something that was destined to end in failure, the man wisely refrained from even wetting his feet, fearing he might drown the moment his toe touched the water.

It was a decision that let Anoon produce a deep, acknowledging gaze toward the man, followed by a swift understanding nod.

Let us say no to piracy! Don't take part in a crime! Don't patronize thieves!

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