A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"On that front, I think I can manage it… Just for a year, to see how things go," the smith said. "We'll see how this vision of yours ends up. But if you've a mind to steal a bladesmith or weaponsmith from Ernest, I'll warn you, you've got another thing coming. They're more stubborn than me. Never heard them once speak a complaint about the guild, even though they're in orders over their heads.

They're either mad, or just beaten-dog loyal."

"We'll manage," Greeves said. "Let's conclude this business, then."

"What would you ask from me to see it concluded?" Harmon asked suspiciously. "I'm not signing no contract, not until I can get someone of education who can read your terms."

"You can bring your 'someone of education' through next we meet, and we'll sign a contract then. For now, a handshake will be good enough. Someone like you, who appreciates the honesty of iron, wouldn't think to be dishonest in business as well, would you? Unless you wish to taint your craft…" Greeves said maliciously.

"You could have said you trusted me, would have been a nicer way of putting it," Harmon grumbled, but he stood up anyway, and extended a hand out to Greeves. Greeves took it with authority, almost pulling the stronger man over after leveraging the distance.

Oliver then stood up as well, as the smith extended him a more hesitant handshake, as if wondering if he should not be bowing to the man instead of shaking his hand.

"I hope you know… Whatever we talk of… That's nothing compared to what the Guild will do," Harmon said. "You may think you're out of the Guild's reach out here, but you're not. They'll find a way to make your lives more difficult."

"They already have," Greeves told the man. "They won't be able to throw in anything of weight anytime soon. We'll manage on our end, Harmon. You go and tend to your affairs."

"Pah. I wish I wasn't so damn excited about this. To move from the city, where there's people of note, to a backwater village like this. I shouldn't be getting the blood pumping through my veins… But aye, I needed a change… This'll be it. If there's even a fraction of what you promised in the future, I'll be a contented man," Harmon said.

"It is ambitious," Oliver admitted to the smith. "But what is any endeavour without a degree of ambition? What reason does a town or city have to come together, when there is nothing for them to aim against, no common enemy that can be slain?"

"And who is the common enemy here, Ser?" The smith asked with a degree of astuteness.

That brought out a daring smile on Oliver's lips. "We shall find that out in time, Master Harmon."

They saw the smith off, sending him away with the best impressions that they could muster. Those that hadn't been directly involved in the discussions gave him nods, whilst keeping the serious demeanour of guards.

Oliver would never know exactly what a man was thinking, but he would have liked to have thought that Daniel Harmon looked impressed as he left them. What exactly he was impressed with, it was hard to tell, but there was a reverent look in his eye nevertheless, one that he fought to keep hidden behind a steely expression.

"Now there's one step," Greeves said with a relieved sigh. "Thought he would be a harder boulder to shift than that, but he's been shifted regardless, and it's the leverage of your achievements that did it, Ser Patrick. Now that boulder has gone hurtling down the hill, though. He's no insignificant man, Daniel Harmon.

He's been smithing for longer than you've been alive, and the past decade of that smithing has been spent serving the highest of men. Even Lord Blackwell has paid him a visit once or twice – he'll notice that the man has gone missing."

"Not just the Guild, but the Lord of Ernest as well," Verdant murmured. "He would be a man that's better to avoid making an enemy of, when he has been our ally for the longest time…"

"I don't seek to make an enemy of him," Oliver corrected. "Nor do I seek to run Ernest into the ground. But I do seek to compete with the man. Perhaps he won't return the favour, and he'll just ignore me. That'll be all very well and good. But a man of Blackwell's calibre shouldn't get offended when someone challenges their long held seat of power.

Taking it for granted is a weakness – the opportunity to find a foe would have been something that I would relish in his position."

"You talk of governance entirely like it's the battlefield," Greeves snorted. "You don't really understand it yet, eh? You're hoping it will be that thing, but I reckon it'll turn out differently, when you really get a sense for it. Might be that you regret going into all this."

"And if I do?" Oliver said. "What would change then? We would still have etched out a better position for ourselves."

"Only the future will tell," Greeves said. "But I can't see you, who would rather sleep in the mountains, than look for a place to stay when Queen Asabel has taken house, as being the sort that would enjoy the stuffiness of diplomacy. That prodding with ol' Daniel there is most of it. Can you see yourself enjoying doing that?"

"Why not?" Oliver said. "I had something that I wanted, and we played a game of finding out what I could offer to get him to do as I wished. It's like breaking a man's guard, and looking for the finishing blow, you have to understand him."

"You're going to get bored, there's my prediction," Greeves said.

"Then, I'll counter that," Nila offered, her voice loud for all the energy that she'd been made to save during her silence in the meeting. "I think that Oliver will take a liking to it. No, I'll go a step further – I think he'll be better than you, Greeves. It's not nearly as hard as you're making it seem."