A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Oliver laughed at that, imagining it. "No," he said. "I would have been laughed out of the Academy if I was caught doing something like this… Not to say that it isn't good training. I think it would work well for someone like Lasha."

"She will be coming back soon, won't she?" Nila said. "I've missed her… It didn't feel as if we'd had the chance to speak properly since she returned from campaign."

The two spoke to each other across a certain distance along the length of the bank. Nila's back was to him, and in turn, Oliver's back was to her. He turned his head to speak whenever he tossed a fresh bit of wood towards the pile, but that was all. And with that strange, almost disrespectful setup, it seemed as if Nila was able to speak to him normally.

'I suppose I too am able to speak normally,' Oliver thought to himself, realizing that Nila was not the only one who had begun to wear a mask.

"I think I might have offended her," Oliver said. "But we shall see how she is when she returns. She's a good soldier, I wouldn't want to lose her."

"There's far more to Lady Blackthorn than simply being 'a good soldier', Oliver. You're cruel to only give her that title," Nila admonished.

"What would you call her then?" Oliver said.

"A good friend, for a start," Nila said. "Being the poor little peasant girl that I am, she treats me no differently than she would anyone of her own status."

She said that last-part half jokingly, for Oliver knew the girl to have the slightest degree of pride. She didn't pay much attention to the divides in class, just as Oliver didn't. She only wandered the line as necessary, in order to stop herself from falling into trouble, but she didn't use it as a means of measuring self-worth.

"I suppose I can agree to that," Oliver said.

"Queen Asabel too. She's a good friend of yours," Nila noted. "Make sure that you don't distance yourself from her, Oliver… Despite… you know… She came so far just to help you – and to help us – after all. Though I do think it's strange to call a Queen your friend.

It feels weird just to hold that thought in my head, like those two things shouldn't go together… Hey, how far are you going to grow this pile of wood before you actually start the fire?"

The pile of wood, as Nila had pointed out, was indeed growing monstrous. At some point, Oliver had switched his means of concentration more to their conversation than to the task that he was meant to be carrying out.

"Are you still cold?" Oliver asked.

"More freezing by the second," Nila answered. "Little feels worse than having soggy boots. These were waterproofed perfectly too, you know? I wonder if they've been ruined by letting water get inside them."

"If they were waterproofed then why did they—"

"Yes, yes, don't finish that, you're so very funny," Nila said, rolling her eyes. "It doesn't matter how waterproof they are if water gets into the top of them, does it?"

Oliver grinned. "Is that how it works? I wouldn't know."

"Are you swinging that axe to threaten me, or are you actually intending to start a fire?" Nila said.

"I think if I were to threaten you, it would be more easily done with more cold water, no? For some reason, you didn't seem to quite like it," Oliver said.

"I can't believe that you and Dominus used to swim in that in the middle of winter, it's complete insanity… I don't see how anyone could survive it," Nila said.

"Surely you've tried to swim in it before yourself?" Oliver said.

"I have not," Nila fumed. "I've never been foolish enough to do that. The streams further down the mountain, I might have tried in summer, but up here, the water is always cold. And it's fast too. It's better for drowning than it is swimming."

"Well, I shall let you know if ever I'm in need of drowning. Perhaps you can point me to a good spot," Oliver said, cutting the first of his collected bits of damp wood in two, bearing the dryer core of it. He did the same with a second, before drawing out his knife, and beginning to shave a pile of the dryer parts.

"At least you don't seem to have forgotten how to light a fire," Nila said.

"Did you ever think that I would? No matter how many years I spend amongst the nobility, I can't see that ever happening."

"Nor can I," Nila admitted. "Poor Verdant. He's done everything he can to raise you into a respectable noble, but you keep rushing off into the mountains to make your beds. They keep having to drag you back. You're like a feral dog."

Oliver shrugged. "There's comfort out here."

"There is," Nila agreed with a sigh. "I do not know what I would do without it… I did not realize how much freedom you had given up, to do all that you wish to do… But I find that I don't really envy it."

"If we were to ever pull your bow away from this forest, the deer population would grow monstrous. They'd be deer in every town for hundreds of miles around," Oliver said.

"You know I'm a far more careful hunter than that…" Nila said. "Isn't that a big enough pile of shavings?"

Her teeth were beginning to chatter from the cold, even as she tried to ignore it. Oliver decided to be sympathetic, and start his fire with a smaller amount of shavings than he normally wood. He struck the sparks of his flint and steel onto the sawdust that had come about as a result of his efforts.

It quickly went up into a small flame, which licked at the bigger shavings, before bursting into proper life.

Then Oliver put on the small bits of wood that he'd chopped away from the outer damp cores, growing the fire bit by bit, before he dared to put any of the damp pieces near it. Soon enough, there was a small fire establishing itself, and Nila was holding her hands to it, sighing in relief.

"Fire is good…" She said.

"What are you, some primitive?" Oliver laughed.