A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

VOLUME FOUR – THE WEIGHT OF POWER

The town was far from being in its best condition. The work left behind as a result of the battling could not have been called insignificant. Two weeks had already passed, and still it showed no signs of being close to finished.

Queen Asabel, her General Blackthorn and their thousand soldiers had departed, leaving Solgrim firmly once more in the hands of the Patrick men. By the time they had made such a departure, news once more arrived from their battlefront to the east, confirming that General Blackwell had successfully captured the first of the cities – Qizi – without any resistance.

It seemed a sure enough sign that things were proceeding according to the promise that Khan wielded.

Oliver listened to such news, and he felt no eagerness to be a part of it. A small distance had developed in his mind, between himself, and the affairs to be had there. He could not have called it any of his concern any longer.

As Greeves had rightfully pointed out, the work that was to be done all the way to the east was the distraction that they needed to free themselves from the attentions of the High King. No doubt he was not a particularly happy man that his plot had failed, but he had far bigger concerns now than the survival of a mere village.

It would have been pleasant to say that, with both battles won – the battle at home, and the battle abroad – that they could have settled into a time of peace. But change was afoot once more, and where there was change, there could never be peace, only unrest.

The most significant change for Oliver had come in a signal moment of recklessness, when he had felt his emotions swell, and his gratitude reach his limit, and he had asked for Nila Felder's hand in marriage. Of course, she had promptly enough rejected the proposal, and proposed a less drastic alternative. Even that alternative, however, brought waves with it that Oliver would not have expected.

From Greeves and Judas, the excitement was endless. From the villages, the news was murmured from mouth to mouth with all the passions that gossip usually brought. They never said their words quite to his face, but they were always within earshot.

Somehow, what ought to have been an insignificant matter between just the two of them had become the talk of the town. Amid the death and destruction that had been left behind by the Yarmdon, that seemed to be the favourite sole distraction.

Oliver wasn't sure whether he could quite say that he regretted his decision. Unlike with his sword, a moment of passion wasn't finalized by the defeating of a foe, and the lopping off of a head. As his emotions died down, he was very much made aware of just how ill thought out – naturally, since he had not given it any thought at all – his decision had been.

The message had already been sent by Skullic. He'd congratulated Oliver on his victory, and he'd promised to visit, and then he'd finished his little with a single ominous sentence. "You've done something foolish again, haven't you, Patrick?" He'd said. Verdant was as sure as Oliver what that meant.

"It is difficult to suppose how he might know…" Verdant said, troubled.

Oliver pulled a face at his desk. He felt most strongly for Verdant.

He'd been Oliver's most loyal man for the longest time, and he'd developed something that could be called a friendship with Nila as well, and yet somehow he'd been placed squarely in the middle of the mess, to sort through the cards that Oliver had cast into the air, and to try to attempt to make some positives of them in light of the future of the Patrick House.

"Even with the villagers' numbers diminished, there are eight hundred of them," Oliver said. "The gates are open, merchants are passing through. The rumour spreads like a wildfire. I only hope what they're spreading is accurate… And that they're not going all the way with it. It is not as if we have agreed to marry."

Only now did Oliver realize the mercy that Nila had shown him in rejecting his proposal. Perhaps that wasn't quite the light she saw it in, but nevertheless, she'd reduced the fallout that would have otherwise happened rather significantly.

"The Lady Felder's standing is ever going to be the topic of gossip," Verdant said. "But I do not think you need to worry about it too fitfully. We have never been a House that has prided itself on mere noble traditions alone. Besides, Skullic set a precedent, as far as your network of allies goes… I do not think he can judge too harshly."

"But he married a Serving Class woman," Oliver said, his head in his hands. "I'm going a step further. He's probably going to be ready to kill me on the spot when he hears of it. And what of Blackwell and Karstly. They labelled me too immature to carry to burden of a General, and in the barest handful of days, I go and prove them right."

"Do you regret it, my Lord..?" Verdant asked carefully. He made sure to mask his gaze, by only looking at Oliver out of the corner of his eye, but Oliver could tell full well that he was studying him.

Oliver heaved a long sigh. "No," he said emphatically, standing up from his desk. "But I might regret it for Nila. She made a concession, but even that bears significant weight for her. There are some that would blame her for our current position. She will have ire directed her way that she is undeserving of.

And that is a trouble that I have caused."

"However…" Verdant pressed. "You say you don't regret it, despite all that. What outweighs even those difficulties?"

"I do not know," Oliver replied. "But as oft as my recklessness gets me in trouble, and I am rightly condemned by those around me… I do not recall once that I have once regret a decision that I have made when I feel that swell of passion, and the urge to do something.

It was though it always puts me on a path that I can enjoy the stinging heat of, even if perhaps it is not the best option in the short term."