"Now!" He pointed the Myr Sword at the chest full of Silver Stags. "Make your choice!"
"Those willing to live and die with me! Those who believe in my promise!"
"Come up! One at a time! Take a Silver Stag!" Three Silver Stags were enough to support a farmer's family for a year.
"But! The moment you take a Silver Stag! I'll consider that your acceptance of my promise! You'll become my soldiers and obey my orders!"
Silence did not last long!
One after another, people made their way to the chest, trembling, crying, or silent, and took the Silver Stag that was theirs.
They all knew and understood that Suleiman was right. They had no way back. If they fled, their land would be taken away, and even their families would be hanged.
They had no choice but to believe Suleiman's promise and oath.
Lushen and Roslyn watched the crowd come forward to take the Silver Stags, their faces aching with every coin spent. Suleiman himself felt his heart bleed, but he understood one thing: money was only an external possession! When it needed to be spent, it had to be spent!
Suleiman watched as everyone came forward and took all the Silver Stags from the chest. He knew it was time for the next step.
"From this moment on! You are my soldiers!"
The soldiers returned to their ranks and stood at attention, their eyes once again fixed on him.
"Lady Roslin promised me."
"All the spoils from this campaign! Would belong to me, to distribute as I saw fit!"
The soldiers exchanged glances, unsure what this had to do with them.
Wasn't it only natural for noble lords to take the spoils of war? They'd be lucky to keep their lives. Why was he telling conscripts like them this?
Suleiman's gaze swept over their puzzled faces. Then he raised his voice and declared, word by word, something that sent the entire camp into a frenzy:
"Now! I promise you! Of all the spoils!"
"I'll take only half! The other half! Will be divided among you according to your military merit!"
To make sure they had heard the key point, he repeated it loudly:
"Divided according to military merit!"
In an instant, the whole camp fell into a brief, eerie silence. Not a sound could be heard; it was so quiet that even the wind howling was audible.
Suleiman didn't think they had failed to hear or understand him.
Lit by the flames in the night, he saw in their eyes that the fear and unease there had given way to ambition, greed, and desire!
Their eyes gleamed like those of ravenous hounds and hungry wolves!
In a world much like the Middle Ages, hard work was pointless. No matter how hard they labored, they could barely scrape by.
After paying their taxes to the lord, they might even go hungry by year's end, let alone in a bad harvest.
Pillaging, without a doubt, was the most profitable way to get rich quick. Though it went against the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, many people still fell into banditry. Everyone hated the Ironborn, yet everyone envied them. They paid the Iron Price and took Salt Wives!
In just one day! They could earn what they'd make in ten years, or even their entire lives!
In just one day! They could change the fate of themselves and their families!
"Is what you said true, Lord Suleiman?" someone in the crowd shouted.
"By the Seven, I won't take back a single word!" Suleiman replied.
Disbelief was written across the soldiers' faces. Their eyes stayed fixed on Suleiman, trying to judge from his expression whether he meant what he said!
Their wolfish, ravenous gazes made Lushen and Roslyn tighten their grips on their swords!
Their fear hadn't disappeared; it had simply been overwhelmed by ambition, greed, and desire. They had seen the immense temptation before them!
They had seen a chance to rise through the ranks with violence!
They saw another life!
No more working hard all year only to have enough to eat. No more drafty shacks patched together with straw and mud. No more monotonous fare fit for feeding pigs—the food their noble lords gave them!
They saw sumptuous food, fine clothes, sturdy houses, beautiful women, even servants of their own!
The soldiers breathed harder and faster, their eyes burning with greed.
The disorderly ranks from moments before seemed infused with a new vitality.
A vitality full of aggression and animal savagery!
It was as though they were no longer conscripted farmers forced into service, but ambitious men willing to risk everything for wealth!
Suleiman stood on the raised platform and watched the scene unfold. He knew he had succeeded.
In the simplest, most brutal way, he had stirred the desires of these common people, forced to obey their lord's orders.
He didn't need a group of timid, clueless conscripts who did nothing but obey mechanically.
Men like that would be nothing but lambs led to slaughter on the battlefield, utterly incapable of fighting, with death as their only possible end!
He wanted a group of warriors who could fight.
Now he had them: ambitious men eager to claim a greater share of the spoils, change their lives, and give their families a better future.
They were no longer being forced onto the battlefield. They were marching there of their own free will!
Suleiman looked around, his gaze passing over their faces. From this moment on, this army had finally gained a soul—a soul of ambition, greed, and desire.
"Good!" Suleiman's voice wasn't loud, but every soldier heard him. To their ears, it was music.
"Remember the choice you made today! We're all in the same boat!"
"If the boat sinks, we'll all go before the Seven!"
"If it reaches shore, we'll share the gold and silver!"
Suleiman drew the Myr Sword and pointed it at them, his gaze sharp. "Come! Let's take up our swords! And seize the wealth that belongs to us! For me! For yourselves!"
The soldiers let out a loud, excited roar, their eyes brimming with ambition and desire. It was as though they could already see mountains of gold, silver, and jewels piled before them, as though they could already smell the sweet scent of money!
The crowd shouted, drew their swords, and waved them with all their might, as though they had strength to spare:
"Long live Lord Suleiman!"
"Long live Lord Suleiman!"
"Long live Lord Suleiman!"
Toman, the soldier who had planned to flee, held the Silver Stag tightly in his trembling hand.
The feel of the coin was so real!
He thought of his father, his mother, and his two younger sisters. He thought of the family's desperate circumstances. To survive, they had been forced to promise his young sisters in marriage.
His family was so poor. He remembered his father's parting words: "Toman, you're the eldest son, the only man in the family. You must take good care of your mother and your two sisters."
He thought of his mother's withered hands, clutching his tightly as she wept when they parted. He thought of his sensible little sisters, promised to old men in exchange for food so they wouldn't starve.
And now he looked up at Suleiman on the raised platform. This lord! Lord Suleiman!
He had given him a chance! A chance that might change his life! A chance to change his family's life!
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