Reincarnated to the Past 43 (Patreon)

Reincarnated to the Past
Chapter 43

-VB-

Perinthus was very close to Byzantion.

Within a day’s march if I really pushed it.

However, Perinthus made a crucial mistake in killing my envoy when I offered them peace, so I wanted to prepare thoroughly so that when I came to put Perinthus to siege, there would be nothing that would go wrong in salting that city thoroughly.

This wasn’t a fiction, fanfiction, or a game or whatever; a city couldn’t replenish their manpower after they’ve been slaughtered like we’ve slaughtered the Byzantions and the Perinthians. They were weak now, and I needed to put them down.

So preparations.

Gather all available men from Byzantion except for minimum garrison necessary for its defense.

Retrieve the rest of the weapons and special “fuel” I prepared.

Plan?

Burn Perinthus to the ground.

Quite simple, yes.

However, I could not prepare for too long, which I was prone to do, nor could I go about and strike right now like the rest of my company wanted to, because doing something like that was inadvisable.

So what was a good amount of preparation without us taking too long to strike, and thus create dissent among the company?

I wanted to say one week.

But …

Well, my company of volunteer manslaughtering, revenge-driven, and loot-wanting warriors wanted to attack now.

This was a problem I didn’t expect to encounter. When I set out to pacify this region for the Kettin tribes, I expected to go out, quickly cripple all of the major cities, and then come back with satisfied warriors carrying bundles of loot and glory. Taking over the Byzantions was a boon in that regard.

“So because these shitfuckers were too stupid to keep themselves safe, we have to wait for them now?!” one of the warriors burst out angrily, his enraged face contrasting against his black beard and moustache.

“Yes,” I replied with a faux sigh. “But please don’t forget that their own inability to properly defend themselves was why we were able to take over so easily.”

That was also false, by the way. The Byzantions had been at war with someone else, fighting a pitched battle. They were merely overwhelmed by our surprise attack, which they didn’t expect because that’s the point of a surprise attack. Coupled with the loss in the battlefield, the Byzantions possessed almost nothing to spare for an attack, something I have noted before.

It wouldn’t change the fact that I would be pulling my chunk of levies from them.

The warrior grunted before he stepped back, knowing when to complain and when to stop.

The next person among this group of irate warriors was the man with the most to lose: the brother of the dead envoy.

“Wiseman Alan,” he greeted me cordially if stiffly.

“Juman,” I nodded back. “I only ask for a week.”

He took a deep breath in. He kept his breathing slow and full. Everyone here could see that he tried his best to keep his calm. It was a laudable, especially for a man barely into his manhood at an age of twenty.

“You promise? One week?” he asked me.

I nodded again. “One week. That will be enough to drill the Byzantion levies to the absolute minimum and have the rest of our preparations ready.”

“Then one week,” he agreed and left with a grimace on his face.

Seeing the central figure to their complaints walk away, the rest of the warriors left the plaza where they had confronted me.

“Is it wise to allow dissent so early in the fight?” Oryum, one of my volunteer slaves, asked me. “Great men that I have seen struck down those like Juman there when they questioned the leaders’ decisions.”

“They are here as volunteers in an offensive against our enemies,” I replied and then shrugged. “I should be understanding of what they are going through. Besides, I think you agree with them on how … unenthusiastic the assault on this city was.”

Oryum, a man towering over even I, hesitated before he nodded. “Yes.”

And that was that.

“Good, then help me prepare. Without strong men like you, I may have to delay the attack, and that would make our friends there unhappy,” I said while walking away, and Oryum chased after me.

-VB-

If it wasn’t one group of warriors, then it was another group of warriors.

“Really?” I glared at the man kneeling across from me.

In front of him was a dead lamb that he had attempted to steal to eat.

“I-It is our right!” he complained.

I glared at him for a moment longer, and he sweated underneath my gaze.

“Did I not tell you and the rest of us that this city was now one of ours? That we should treat them like kin?”

“But they aren’t!”

Some of the warriors in the crowd grunted in agreement while the rest of the crowd looked relieved at my words. I turned to look at the crowd. “Have I not conquered you?” I roared.

“Y-Yes!” someone shouted. “You did!”

It was obvious to most that they said so because they feared what the consequences of “not being conquered” would entail.

“Do you not give us tributes of food?”

“We do!”

I turned back to the thief. “Then why have you stolen from us?” I asked. “This city belongs now to the tribes of Kettin.”

He glared at the ground.

I took a deep breath in and let out a breath slowly. “Normally, theft of livestock, no matter who did it, demands by tribal laws that the thief be executed. HOWEVER!”

The crowd, who were thinking up to that point that they might see some blood, stilled and quieted.

“You are a warrior of the Kettin!”

Silence.

“So you have forfeited future loot until twice the value of the livestock has been paid, one half to the owner of the livestock and the other half to the tribe itself. Your inability to pay will result in enslavement-” as much as I hated to do it, I had to in order to enforce the laws. “- and desertion will result in summary execution. If you agree to this ruling, then tell me. If not, ask for a warrior’s death.”

Silence.

Everyone watched with abated breath.

The now shivering thief stuttered out a reply.

“I-I-I will serve.”

“Then rise and return to your quarters.”

He ran as soon as he could.

I turned to his squad mates. “Keep an eye on him at all times.”

He nodded with a grimace.

The crowd dispersed after that, and I paid the owner of the livestock from my own share of the meager loot that we have already fucking plundered from this city.

“Argh,” I mumbled as I walked away. “Seriously, what the fuck? Isn’t conquest supposed to be easy and simple?” My own memories betrayed me by showing me similar experiences that men, most greater than me, had to suffer. “Oh, shut up,” I grumbled to my mind.

---

Rom used the letters and words Wiseman Alan taught him to write about this in a scroll he bought from the locals.

It was … enlightening. It was a fair ruling. No, more than fair. It was a lenient ruling but it was also a ruling that enriched the tribe and the people. He gave security to the people, as the wiseman liked to lecture about the “psychology” of people, and also made his stance firm on loot distribution, because that man had already received his share of the loot.

If Rom was correct, then that man had received a calf… Rom assumed that the calf was already eaten.

He wondered how his master would continue to rule, because though this might be a journey of conquest, his master had shown him, the warriors, and the city that he was a fair and good ruler before he was a bloody and ruthless conqueror.

It was a warm thought, being led by such a man.