A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"And now you fall into this silence again, Ser," Nila said, accusingly. "I thought you had agreed to offer me your assistance in this? Were we not meant to tackle this problem together?"

"There seems to be little that I can do," Oliver said. "When there is only one book and one pen to make our records in. But you have the right of it, my Lady. With our need for repairs being what they are, the two of us should not be wasted in one place. I will find a task that I can put myself to proper use on."

He turned away as if to flee. His boot steps were strong, and purposeful, but he felt none of the purpose that he sought to show. He didn't have any idea where he needed to be. For better or worse, his retainers and his people of the village were seeing to the matter of restoration themselves. They needed Oliver as nothing more than a figurehead.

Nila reached up a hand as he went, almost about to stop him.

"I wasn't talking about the repairs… stupid," she said regretfully, heaving a long sigh.

'Direction is what I need.' Oliver thought to himself. He knew that he only ever felt himself content when he was working towards something. Now he didn't know quite what exactly he was to work towards. He wished to improve in something that might offer him insights on the battlefield, but as of yet, he did not know quite what.

The situation with Nila was an extra weight to that burden, made all the worse by the happiness that the townspeople felt for the two of them. They seemed to believe that they were a young couple very much in love, but Oliver thought he'd have an easier time of it if the two were engaged in deadly combat instead.

If he'd spent every day in fear of Nila sending an arrow his way, instead of what he currently had to fear, he thought he would be considerably more relaxed – and not simply because he trusted in his skill with the sword. He knew that if she concealed herself properly, Nila could likely land an arrow even on him. But an arrow wound was far preferable to their wrestling awkwardness.

"Oyyy! Boss!" Came the shout, as Oliver strolled through the town directionlessly.

He turned, recognizing Judas in an instant, and noting the young daughter that he was balancing on his shoulder as well. The grim look that he was wearing softened ever so slightly.

"Judas," Oliver said. "How's the wound?"

Judas had scored a vicious injury along the length of his back, but one would never have thought it with how active he kept himself.

"Oh, it's all but gone now," Judas said. "What about you, Oliver? You gotten rid of all those injuries you got on campaign?"

"Near enough," Oliver said. "I see that you and Tully have been enjoying the sunshine."

"Oh, aye, she loves the sun, she does," Judas said. "She likes watching the soldiers passing through as well. They all know her by name now. She giggles every time she sees Firyr. She's started calling him 'silly man'."

Even Oliver had to break into a smile at that. For Tully, who had so few words already, to waste some of them in the acknowledgement of Firyr's foolishness – that had to bring a smile to even the sternest of faces.

"He really is a silly man, isn't he, Tully?" He said, holding his finger up for the girl to play with. She nodded enthusiastically, and fought off his finger as if it was a sword.

"Silly, silly man!" She gurgled happily.

"Has Firyr noticed what he's been calling her yet?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, I reckon he has. But he chooses to pretend that he hasn't," Judas said. "Clever, that is. Just ignoring something. Just realized it myself lately. That's something you can use when something isn't going your way."

"Judas!" There came a cry from inside his house.

"See?" Judas said, letting the cry hang in the air for a while, as if to raise his point. "Now she thinks I'm off at the market already, and me and Tully get a while longer in peace. Ain't that right, Tully?"

"Silly, silly man!" She said, pulling on what was left of Judas' hair.

"Ey, that's what you call Firyr, not me," Judas said.

"And why wouldn't she be calling you it?" Felly said, leaning against the door frame with her arms folded and a cross look on her face. "Being the silly man that you are? I told you I needed meat from the market a half an hour ago. I apologize for him wasting your time, Ser Patrick. I recognize that he talks far too much than is proper…"

"I told you too, that if you waited a while longer, Nila would fetch us some," Judas said. "There's no point wasting the little coin we have left."

Felly slapped him on his shoulder for that. She was a fiery woman, half his size. Ordinarily, she was as calm as the stillest of waters, but it was only Judas that she seemed to reserve her irritation for. His size didn't appear to intimidate her in the least.

"Don't you even dare think of troubling Nila, with how busy she's been lately," Felly said. "Go to the market, as you said you would, and find us what we need."

Judas resigned himself to his fate. "Yes ma'am…" He sighed, hefting Tully from his shoulder. "Sorry, Tully, looks like your dad has work to do."

"Silly, silly man," Tully said, giggling.

"They've been raising doubt about the security of our settlement," Greeves said. "It's just a game of power for those bastards. They see an opportunity to keep their guild somewhere important, and they leverage it. Doesn't change the fact that we need them though. The only reason we have any value as a trade route is 'cos of our closeness to Ernest.

If they refuse to keep doing business with us, then we're not going to get anywhere."