A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 796: The Pieces of Battle - Part 8

"Suicidal charge…" Northman said, gulping. "When you put it like that, it doesn't sound too good."

"That is what it would need to be, currently, for our swords to even attempt to reach their General. Even with it, I do not have strong confidence. Hence my second, intermediary proposal," Oliver said.

"Why are you making it sound like you're apologizing?" Nila asked, frowning. "You're saying this for their sakes, aren't you? If we were to do an all-out charge, it would be the common man that would suffer. They'd have to deal with five hundred men whilst you were battling. Surely, they realize that you're suggesting this second path for their benefit?"

From the shifting of a few of the hungrier Sergeants, they seem not to have realized that. Nila frowned, catching onto their looks. "How am I telling you what's what? I am not even a soldier. Why are you men always so hungry to get yourselves killed? I'm with Oliver – if we're going to win, then victory should be keeping as many people alive as possible."

"Of course, that would be preferable," Northman said. "But given the situation, a few casualties are… Nevermind. You wish for time to try a different approach, Captain? This is your mission. We would not dare question the word of our superior."

"Then, we'll begin tonight," Oliver said.

A group of twenty prepared themselves to move, and to move quickly. Oliver and his men had word that the Macalister encampment was home to a detachment of fifty cavalry. A fact that they were none too pleased about.

Oliver planned to lead this group of twenty closer to the encampment for a better look. They had roughly an hour before the sun went down, so their departure was prepared with haste.

The air about the camp was a grim silence as the group of twenty made their final preparations. The line between stranger and long-time ally had slipped slightly, as both Oliver's slave force, and Skullic's men intermingled to see them prepare themselves for departure.

Verdant had come back from a scouting mission just minutes before, giving reports of that very cavalry that they were now preparing themselves to avoid. He also put in more detailed information about the lay of the land, and the state of the encampment, compounding on what Oliver had already seen on the map, and what Northman had told him.

Despite having just come back, Verdant was insistent that he be a part of that group of twenty as they departed. He declared that this was the very sort of situation where his rather limited combat strength would be useful. Oliver had eventually relented to that fact, though he would have preferred if he had stayed behind to lead.

In Verdant's place, Cormrant and Northman remained, as did Judas, who proved to be getting some sort of handle on governing the behaviour of the ex-slaves. In his place, Nila was set to go, as was Firyr, and five more ex-slave men – Oliver thought that the experience, however small it might be would do them good.

The goal was simple: unsettle the enemy, and announce their arrival. They had ten bows between the twenty of them for that reason. The goal did not include any true engagement of any kind. The risks were slim. It was basically a glorified scouting mission with the intention of a bit of mischief.

Yet, despite that simplicity, there was a tension that hung in the air – something that ought not to have been there. It should have been routine, mundane, even, but if the birds had ceased their songs and gone silent to watch the group prepare.

The sound of armour straps being tightened and double-checked was the prevailing noise for a time. The soldiers were merely watching the group, hardly making a noise. Then weapons were drawn from their sheaths, their sound echoing loudly in the quiet forest, as their condition was checked.

Then Nila went and checked the state of the bows they'd been given, drawing them back, and feeling the attachments of the strings, to ensure they wouldn't snap. She checked their arrows too – a level of diligence that their mischievous little outing should not have deserved.

Quietly, assuredly, they did what they needed to do, almost able to hear the heartbeats in their ears. Even the smallest of actions was granted significance by the lack of noise. Something about it urged an acknowledgement of the current state of living. The pounding of a beating heart. The crunching of snow under a boot.

The quiet intake of breath as a man turned too quickly, his step almost colliding with the woman's behind him.

"Ready?" Oliver asked, looking over the group. It was strange to see Firyr among them, being actually quiet. He had more excitement in his eyes than any of them. Apparently, he delighted in the chance.

There came a few quiet nods. It was as though in deference to the quiet Lady Blackthorn that stood amongst their party, the others had conformed to the same way of being.

By now, even the tension was getting to Oliver. He didn't know what had created it. It almost worried him. He had to check the faces of each man individually to ensure there was no chance of them breaking. Verdant appeared stern and strong. Judas, Kaya and Karesh had a similar sort of nervous but resolute tension to them.

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Lady Blackthorn stood like an icy statue, whilst Nila just next to her paced recently, her hands finding anything that they needed to do. Skullic's few amongst them stood to military attention, whilst the slaves that Firyr preceded over seemed totally lost.

'Why does this feel so significant?' Oliver thought, a sudden chill passing over him. He'd made the decision on something close to a whim, after all. They were merely feeling things out. It should have been a quiet endeavour, allowing them to loosen up and build their confidence. The opposite seemed to be occurring.

The sudden caw of a crow made nearly half of them flinch. Oliver looked over his shoulder in time to see it swoop down from a tree, in pursuit of a white rabbit. An odd scene. Crows didn't prey on rabbits, did they? It seemed more like the crow intended to harass the rabbit, rather than kill it.