A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Apologies," Volguard said. "To all of you. The Minister means well… but he can be quite difficult. He did not truly ask your permission before sending me your way either. Will my presence be burdensome for you, Ser Patrick? I have heard how your village has suffered whilst you are away."

"Not at all," Oliver said. "It pleases me. I'm going to be lucky to have you. We don't have the finest accommodations available, though… We will need to make some efforts to see that you are properly housed. Blackthorn and Verdant could do with accommodations more suited to their standing as well."

"You had need not worry about me on that front, my Lord," Verdant said. "I am quite content, wherever I might reside."

"Do not worry about me either, my Lord," Blackthorn said quite bluntly.

"'My Lord,'" Volguard noted, eyeing Blackthorn, and then Oliver. "I see that you have managed to rope another student towards your cause… I am surprised that her father did not find the time to send his anger your way."

"It is likely that he doesn't know yet," Oliver admitted. "We have sent a bird to inform him but… I suppose it could simply be that he was taking his duties guarding Queen Asabel seriously."

"As he should. That is a serious cause. With a crowd dense like this, there is no shortage of the potential for assassinations," Volguard said. "Indeed, it is quite rare today that we have not seen even a single nobleman fall dead. I can not remember the last time that happened."

"True enough," Skullic said thoughtfully. "There's always one or two, but I haven't seen any corpses getting carried out."

"It's that common?" Oliver said.

"When there's a crowd like this, indeed. We nobles are a bitter people, after all. But I suppose the jubilations of our victory, and the potential it affords many individuals, has created an air of supposed unity. The Gods only know how long that will last, though," Volguard said. "Perhaps it might end when news of your oath reaches your father, Lady Blackthorn."

"I do not think he will be quite that angry…" Lady Blackthorn said, but she did not sound so sure.

"And your ties to Queen Asabel only deepen. Two of her pillars – their kin have sworn oaths to you," Volguard noted.

"I too have sworn an oath to her," Oliver said. "She came to my aid. I promised to do the same, whenever she had need of me. If there is a royal that I must serve, then I would make sure that it is her," Oliver said.

"Quite the complicated situation that you created," Volguard noted. "And whilst we are on the matter, you are courting, yes? A girl of the peasant class, is it? The Lady Felder that you spoke of at the Academy, I would assume?"

"…Correct," Oliver said.

"You needn't act so surprised at the right guess. Your eyes would light up whenever you talked about her," Volguard said. "I supposed that she might attract even more of your interest in time… And I suppose with General Skullic as your mentor, it seemed all the more natural."

"…You needn't lay the blame on me," Skullic said.

"Ah, but you found yourself a fine Lady, did you not, in Mary? Good day, Lady Skullic. I had yet to properly greet you – you are as radiant as ever," Volguard said, dipping his head to her.

"And you are as charming as ever, Professor," Mary said, dipping her head in turn.

Volguard smiled. "That is as it should be. I see your happiness together. If we were to remove politics, and all the rest… indeed, that is how it should be."

He looked wistful then, before he clapped his hands together, suddenly breaking the spell. "The crowd clears, Ser Patrick. What are your intentions?"

"Well… I suppose it is about time that we return home," Oliver said.

"Ehhhhhhhh?" Greeves said, when the books were placed on the table.

"They're books of the High King," Oliver said.

"Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?" Greeves said, even longer this time, scowling a heavy scowl.

"…They're not so bad," Oliver said.

"Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?" Greeves said. "Am I the only one that thinks you might have brain damage, boy?"

There were only four of them, in the form of Oliver, Greeves, Verdant and Blackthorn, but even for Greeves, he was speaking rather bluntly. Verdant was quickly to step in.

"Careful, merchant. My Lord allows you a degree of freedom in your speech, but you take steps too far," Verdant said.

"Well, yes, Lord Idris, steps too far need to be taken when you leave expecting a grand reward, and you return with dusty fuckin' books. Look! The bloody table is sagging under them. Not only did you not make any money, but you're about to lose bloody money when the table breaks!" Greeves said.

"Greeves," Oliver said, pointing in warning at the flickering smile on Verdant's face, as he exuded an aura of dangerousness.

Greeves flinched in response, seeing that the same look was echoed on Lady Blackthorn, and she already had a hand on the hilt of her sword. "Look… All I'm saying is you've asked me to do a good many things, Ser Patrick. You wanted a stone keep building, didn't you? You wanted the defences as tightly done as could be… All these different tasks, they require coin, you know?

And I was thinking, no matter what you're given, we'll at least be able to get money out of it."

"Can't you get money out of these?" Oliver said. "Surely they're worth something, being the treasures of history that they are."

"Oh, aye, I'm sure you could," Greeves said. "I could get us a fitting amount. I'm pissed at the mere sight of them, but there's some bastards that have been drinking enough to turn their brain to rot that they'd be interested in this sort of thing, enough to sell their house in buying it.

But you've had an old man tell me, as well as a General, that the last thing I can do is sell them… So what does it bloody matter? You went, with the promise of coin, and you've returned with dusty books that I'm not allowed to do anything with, and nothing else at all."