A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Most terrible," Samuel said. He dipped his head to Oliver now that he was afforded the opportunity to speak. "You made a gamble with me, a short while ago, to make it through to the Fourth Boundary. That you have achieved that aim so shortly after is a matter worthy of praise. Congratulations, Ser Patrick. Even in the centuries to come, I am sure that few will be able to emulate that feat."

"Thanks," Oliver said. The words rang hollow in his ears. The Fourth Boundary he might have been, but the weight of recent burdens kept him from being able to truly celebrate that.

"Speaking of which, I'd hear the news from our good Queen," Karstly said. "A terrible thing. Now of all times, for the Yarmdon to descend upon your little village. What was it called, Solgrim?"

Oliver turned to him then, more violently than he'd intended. "You've news?"

Karstly held up his hands, as if as a peace treaty. "Only that the attack occurred, and that the Queen has received a request for aid. No more than that, before you get too excited."

"You haven't heard whether she agreed to it or not?" Oliver pressed.

"Oh, not at all. But why would she? A village, hundreds of miles away, in another Silver King's domain? That would be quite the foolish little journey for a Queen, wouldn't it?" Karstly said.

"It would be," Oliver agreed. "But she's the sort of woman to offer that assistance nonetheless."

"And you prod at her, begging, because she is that sort of woman? What a cruelty to take advantage of that," Karstly said, tutting. "And here I thought you held a certain allegiance towards her. If you felt the slightest inclination of that, you would have thought twice before attempting to weaken her."

"She has as many counsellors around her as she needs. I am sure she'll be able to make a decision that doesn't bring her Kingdom falling down," Oliver said, much to Karstly's amusement.

"I had thought that would get you more wound up," Karstly said. "No matter. It is amusing to see someone crawl their way to the feet of a Queen to ask for help for a mere village, however. I am sure you can appreciate that."

"I cannot."

"No? For a royalty, of all people, to go out of their way for the peasantry," Karstly said. "Doesn't that go against an understanding that is fundamental?"

"I thought you judged based on competence, Karstly," Oliver said.

"Are you saying that this village of yours is full of the most competent peasants I have yet to lay eyes on?" Karstly said.

"By my judgement, they are. They've survived circumstances that a nobleman could not imagine," Oliver said.

"Oh, I had heard of that. The Battle of Solgrim," Karstly said. "And the death of the righteous Dominus Patrick. Righteous he might have been, but righteousness sits very much in the same vein as stupidity, if you would ask me. I suppose Arthur could be pointed to with the same finger. Two of our greatest swordsmen, and it was kindness that killed them both."

"Are you trying to provoke me?" Oliver said.

Karstly grinned at him, an ever so innocent grin. "I am always trying. It seems on this occasion I am also succeeding."

"Kindness did not kill Dominus Patrick," Oliver said. "The way you term kindness, you make it sound a weakness. Do you believe a man can make it to the Sixth Boundary when he has such a weakness in him?"

"Arthur made it to the Fifth," Karstly reminded him. "And he had weakness in spades. A hero we might call him now, but at the time, he was more than mocked for his ideals. You too made it to the Fourth, somehow, and you are as raw as a lump of iron ore. You make me doubt my own understanding of the Boundaries."

"Then you ought to doubt away," Oliver said, driving the stake in. "A merciless strategist you might be, and a genius at that, but you've yet to break through to the Fifth Boundary. The likes of Arthur and Dominus remain far beyond you."

"You really are bitter about this whole thing," Karstly realized. "You don't see the worth in it? You don't see what it is that we've achieved? Do you think Dominus or Arthur could have won such a victory? No. No, they lacked that strategic acumen.

Strength might be able to win you single combat, but with strategy, you can bear open the doors of an entire nation. Do you not see the beauty of it?"

"I see the strength," Oliver said. "Not the beauty. There was nothing beautiful about what you did."

"Tsch," Karstly tutted. "And now we find his limits, Samuel. The son reveals himself to be like the father. Dominus never knew how to get a handle upon leadership. You at least gave it you best attempt, but this seems to be as far as you go. You don't have what it takes to bear the responsibility of a Colonel.

You would never be able to begin calculations that bear the weight of civilian lives. You attempt to play the hero, boy, and you merely reveal your age for it."

"Blackwell said something similar," Oliver said. "Perhaps not quite as harshly. He didn't think I was fit to follow the path of the General."

"Indeed not. You have many weaknesses on the battlefield, and I see now that it is your very strength that is holding you back," Karstly said, jabbing a finger at his chest. "You ought to be a Sword. As a Sword, you would be far more effective than a Captain. The soldiers that you bear drag you down, and you drag them down in turn. I'm voting against your promotion."

"You were the one that gave me a thousand men in the first place," Oliver reminded him.

"Indeed. And what a masterful strategy I carried out with it. To have made Zilan overstep by such a large degree – that is the beauty of the Battle Board," Karstly said. "You served well as a loud target."

"Oh, I was loud enough for your liking, was I?" Oliver said. "Indeed, indeed you say – at least there was that. At least I performed my function as a tool."