A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Jolamire nodded consideringly. "Another mark against his deceptive nature… No regard for our traditions. I do believe that is what the Minister of Logic argues for… our traditions, is it not?"

Hod did not even grace the man with a response. Of everyone, General Tavar seemed to have the largest reaction to what Gargon had just said. He seemed to read into it something that the others did not, and he half rose out of his chair in shock as he looked first to Oliver, with a heavy degree of consideration, and then to Gavlin with a question.

Gavlin returned it with the slightest of shrugs, a gesture that seemed to go unnoticed.

"What else…" Gargon said, his voice cracking as he ran out of things to say. "Oh! I think he's likely strung some deals or other – blackmail, or the like, forcing the Lady Blackthorn to keep him company, as well as seemingly enslaving the Idris heir into his retainership. Those are not things that he could have achieved without a considerable amount of dirt on them."

Lazarus nodded consideringly. "I too had thought it odd that he keeps such high company, despite his reputation… The Lords Blackthorn and Idris join us today, perhaps they might be able to enlighten us?"

His eyes seemed to point out two particular men in the crowd. Oliver searched for them with a hurried curiousness, wondering what the fathers of his friends were like. He'd thought it would have been hard to guess which one was which, but the Lord Blackthorn was the man he spotted first, and it would have been impossible to mistake him for someone else.

He was a massive barrel of a man, and had come dressed in a full suit of plate, only throwing a dusty-looking cloak over the top of it, as if to hide it. That was the only reason that Oliver had not noticed the man at first – the old cloak did much to disguise the finery of his wear.

He hadn't been allowed to bring the sword at his hip, but he had a massive sheath across his lap for it instead. Evidently, it was not a longsword he wielded, but a greatsword.

Other than his almost barbaric size – the size that birthed the Blackthorn style of swordsmanship, with their brutal focus on attacking prowess – there was the deep black of his hair and beard. That shade of deep black that he'd only ever seen on Lasha. The man cast his eyes towards Oliver when he was called upon… and they were not the eyes of a happy man.

He reminded Oliver of a provoked bull, tied up, and unable to trample that which irritated him. Read new chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

The Idris man was a different sort. His dress seemed to be simple for different reasons. His clothes were plain, like that of a merchant, though his shirt was still ruffled to the appropriate noble degree, and there were jewels on his fingers, with another jewel chain to hold his long grey hair in place.

Looking at him, Oliver was struck by a sense of efficiency… Perhaps that was the wrong word to think when looking at a person, but the Lord Idris just seemed to encapsulate it perfectly. Everything from his manner of dress – not overdone, just right enough to be appropriate –his build – not too large, but well muscled enough to work on the battlefield – and his calculating gaze seemed to scream it.

It was as though from birth every choice that he'd made had been thought through right to its end, so that everything could be done with the utmost efficiency, without a single effort being wasted.

When he looked at Oliver, Oliver saw Verdant's blue eyes there, though they were not as deep a blue as the priest's. The cold blue did not do much to disguise the man's distaste. It was not anger that hung there, merely inconvenience, as though he was looking at a problem of the most stupid sort, that shouldn't have existed.

Nonetheless, both men were there, and Oliver felt considerably more… tense. He sat up just a little straighter, and tried to be on his best behaviour, for what good that did him, given that he was already shackled and was on trial for murder.

The two men said nothing to Lazarus' comment, apart from their glares towards Oliver, but the old man was nodding deeply, as though the most profound thing had just occurred. "Well, well, it would seem you've given us a lot to work with. Thank you very much, Lord Gargon."

Gargon nodded. "You're most welcome, Minister."

With Gargon's retreating footsteps, and the reopening of the doors to the hall, Tavar stood once more. "Minister of Logic, I believe it is your turn. Do you wish a moment to prepare?"

"Prepare?" Hod said, standing up, his words sharp. "The truth is not prepared, General Tavar, it is presented. These weedling fools need their time to prepare – they need to dress up facts as things that they are not. They play alchemy with information. They shy away from the truth, fearful of its light. No, General Tavar, I do not need time to prepare."

Tavar turned off to the side so that the crowd behind him could not see his smile – but Oliver could see it. It seemed that he enjoyed Hod's wit, no matter how angry at the man he seemed to get.

Hod took to the floor once more. "In line with the thinking of these fools, let us cut to the heart of the matter, and address the dishes that they've already set out on the table. Send for Verdant Idris, and Lasha Blackthorn."

He made his demands out in the open, casting a harsh glance at the other Ministers, making it clear that this was not something that he had prepared – not like their stunt with Gargon. This was something delivered organically and naturally, in response to something that they'd set aside.

Something like that couldn't be faked… unless, of course, he'd predicted what their first move would be, in which case he seemed the more terrifying man for it.

"I will not descend into silence while we wait," Hod said, "no, there is much to say. I see jabs at the powerful here, and I see doubts. When a man acquires that which is beyond your expectation, since when did we grow so jaded that our first instinct was suspicion? Do you mock the son of Idris so? Do you mock the daughter of Lord Blackthorn?"