A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Naturally, that is what I wish for," Oliver said. "Whilst I am returned, Solgrim will not stagnate. The High King brought fire to our walls, and he scattered ash everywhere. We will use that ash as fertiliser, and we shall grow larger from it, and more problematic. That is still possible, no?"

Greeves inclined his head. "If that is what you wish for, then it can be done… But I think, no matter the coin, we're starting to outgrow our initial positioning. Any further, and it won't only be the High King that we start to piss off. The landowners around us will need to be bargained with. The neighbouring villages will need to be reasoned with, as we take trade away from them.

And Ernest and its governors will have to be kept contented. Their guilds won't want rival factions cropping up elsewhere."

He spoke, oftentimes, as if the world were some dark jest, but there were times like this, when Oliver was reminded of the depths of Greeves' knowledge. In many ways, he was as dangerous as Nila in his talent, though he had no Boundaries to show for it. If the fingers that he held to the pulse of the village supposed that those problems would soon enough arise, then Oliver imagined they would.

What he knew of progress had pointed him in such a direction already – he had anticipated that there would be something that needed to be overcome, more than just mere coin and further building. That he had someone knowledgeable enough in Greeves to identify each problem made matters easier.

"The Pillar of Coin has spoken," Verdant said. He threw the jest without a smile, and even Greeves fumbled his catching of it.

"Oy, Lord Idris, don't be tossing that around. You'll get me in as troublesome a position as Nila," Greeves said, throwing aside the title before it could even begin to stick. "And the other accusations will start coming in. They'll accuse us of thinking above our Lord Patrick's station, and of thinking we're to be aiming for higher things."

"We are indeed," Verdant said. "Or had you forgotten, Greeves?"

"A time for all things. I'll believe it when I begin to see it," Greeves said. "He has proved to me that with the sword, he can break down all barriers. But these other barriers are set by people, and they aren't cut down by the blade. They're weedled through with coin, sweet words, and the weighty leveraging of position."

"What of this other report that you have to mention?" Oliver said. "The matter of the General's coin can wait. We have reassurances in the form of it. We need to think on it now no further."

"Oh, aye, the second bit of news is a bit more… problematic, I'd say. Not for me. For you," Greeves said. One could tell from a single glance at his face that he was enjoying himself. His teeth were hardly hidden for a moment behind his lips as he enunciated each word with the widest of smiles. "A noble Lady has come calling.

She thought that you might see to the villagers together."

Oliver stiffened.

"Hoh? What's that reaction?" Greeves said. "I thought you were a man of the ladies now. Declaring marriage and all that. Or was that even declaring marriage? That was rather Yarmdon, if I'd had to say.

Pointing at a woman, and nearly forcing her into it. If it wasn't Nila, I'd—"

"Right. Enough, Greeves," Oliver said. "Where did she want to meet?"

"I've no clue on that," Greeves said. "I suppose you'll have to hunt her down, eh?"

The fact that Greeves was enjoying it so much made it all the more difficult for Oliver. The man seemed to understand the depth of his troubles even more than Oliver himself. Indeed, there was the problem of the difference in their stations, but that wasn't even the weightiest of all of them. The real problem was Nila Felder herself. Or more precisely, it was both Nila Felder, and Oliver Patrick.

With his duties attended to for that morning, Oliver had no more excuses. He'd had to stand up, and grumble that he supposed he would find her. There was no more lounging around behind the desk for him. It was through Solgrim's increasingly busy streets, and past the many eyes of the villagers that were soon enough cast his way.

He raised a hand in greeting where he could, and smiled where it was appropriate, but both gestures were far more forced than he would have liked them to be. He could not have said quite why he was nervous. Or at least, he could not have said it without affecting a degree of embarrassment. He and Nila had met like this more than enough times already since his return.

It ought to have been an increasingly mundane affair, but Oliver was beginning to find that it was just the opposite.

The fact that Nila had not even said where she would meet him was a game that she seemed fond of playing. Oliver wasn't even sure if the girl was aware of it. Perhaps she thought she was doing him a favour, by allowing him a hunt all of her own creation. But the fervoured searching took its toll on its patience.

With Ingolsol's awareness, he cast his attention outwards, listening in on all the villagers around him. For a people that had just survived a fearsome battle, their spirits were higher than they ought to have been.

Perhaps because they had survived the Battle of Solgrim that had come before it, and they'd been subject to a devastation n that the High King's attack couldn't compare to, there was a degree of gratitude in the fact that things hadn't become as bad as they could have been.

Oliver threaded his way down familiar paths, and soon enough ended up near the Felder residence. He gazed towards the roundhouse, quite sure that if he went knocking, Mrs Felder would have answers for him. Ordinarily, he would not have hesitated there, but it seemed that even Mrs Felder had not escaped discovering the joys of teasing.

Teasing at her hands was all the worse, for she was such a sensitive woman, and she took the greatest cares to ensure that she wouldn't embarrass him too strongly – but that only made the matter all the more embarrassing.