A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"I do not think being predictable in that situation is something to bemoan," Verdant said grimly. "I can not see what they have achieved as a victory… Nor can I say that we managed to achieve anything at all in our pathetic attempt at defiance… But at the very least, my Lord, I am proud to have chosen to serve someone that was willing to act there, when others weren't."

"Willingness or not, the results are what count," Oliver said. "We achieved nothing. We bear the same sin as the rest of the Stormfront men that stood by or contributed. Now, every time we face the Verna on the field, we will be fighting a far harsher battle."

Verdant nodded seriously. "Pity help the fools that dare to surrender to the Verna in the future – pity anyone that crosses swords with them at all. We have a knife through the belly of their country, but we have kicked the hornets' nest. There are far more of them than us, and we have given them anger enough to see them unified. I would call that a blunder, not a victory."

"An angry foe isn't an intelligent one…" Oliver countered, recalling something that Volguard had said.

"No, but I do not think this is an anger that we will necessarily be able to take advantage of…" Verdant said.

"Karstly would be able to," Oliver said. "As much as it pains me to admit it, I cannot see Karstly ever losing. Who is there but Khan that would match up to him?"

"And isn't that Khan allowed to live?" Firyr said, scrunching up his face. "I dunno, it seems bad to me. If he's got more men, can we really beat him? It was close enough at the moment already."

It was a heavy question, and one worth considering. To Oliver, it seemed just as bleak. An angry nation, with their most fearsome General still intact. What would three years really bring? Was the knife that they'd bought enough of a victory to be considered as such?

"A more pressing question to me seems: are they going to honour this treaty?" Jorah said. "Khan has promised to. I would trust his word. But who are the other Verna to obey what he says? Won't there be rogue Generals that go off and do what they wish."

"They will obey," Verdant said resolutely. "Khan is respected enough to ensure that. I think they will obey even more so after what we did. Khan will argue that they cannot show the sort of dishonour that we had. They will make honour their strength. And even if they do come, you are right in saying it would only be a Rogue General.

Those are the sorts of men that we can dispel."

"Who's to hold these cities?" Yorick asked, speaking for the first time. "All these men that we brought with them, would they be enough? I can't understand it. If the citizens stay, the likelihood of a rebellion is high, isn't it?"

Oliver drew out a long sigh. "All of these are problems that they will have to see solved. The newly captured land will have to be given a governor. One of the Silver Kings might be picked. I fear they might thrust the burden onto Queen Asabel, and charge her with its order, given that her lands are best connected to it… Or they might divide the cities up between all the Silver Kings. I do not know.

But there is certain to be much fighting over it."

"Even with the battle won, and the war over for the next three years, it does not seem to be overwhelmingly positive…" Blackthorn said. "I fear for what the future is to bring."

She was not the only one amongst the Patrick men who thought the same. Despite the personal victories that they'd managed to secure across the course of the campaign, it seemed that now, when battles should have been seeing their conclusion, the waters had instead muddied. It left even the most thoughtless of men troubled.

When Khan and the rest of the Verna survivors were set free, that worry only served to increase.

The Stormfront men saw off those hundreds of thousands in the light before dawn. The Stormfront soldiers were fully armed, and the Verna had been made to leave without their weapons.

They stared with hate-filled eyes across the dry plains that had been stained with the blood of both sides. The Stormfront men found themselves unable to match the intensity of those glares. Shame was an emotion that crept toward them far more readily than the righteous anger of their enemies.

Khan met Blackwell on horseback in the middle of the field. He did so alone. Just as Blackwell did.

He had no pleasantries to spare the man. Only a harsh look, and a warning.

"I hope you know what you have done, Stormfronter," he said.

"It has been weighed," Lord Blackwell assured him.

That was all. There were no farewells. Just a snort, and the turning of General Khan's horse. He galloped back to his men, and he did not look back, not even once.

The Stormfront army was due to follow a week after. Khan had told them it would take a matter of days to see the news of their defeat and the conditions imposed on their surrender to spread, and he'd given them the date of a week before they secured their march to the nearest city of Qizi.

What sight would await them in Qizi, the Stormfront men were apprehensive to guess. Many expected that the streets would be empty, and all they would city was barrenness, and recently raided larders.

Some suspected that the citizens would be waiting for them – but not happily. That they'd all be armed with primitive spears, and whatever pieces of armour they could steal from the estates left by fleeing nobles. Few expected it to go without a fight, and fewer still expected what awaited them there to be positive.

There would be none of the looting that many soldiers hoping for quick coin yearned for. General Blackwell had made that most clear before they had even begun to follow.

"We are here to settle, not to raze," Blackwell said. "These are our properties, our towns. I will not see them burned or raided. We are not Yarmdon."