A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 809: Victory’s Skeletons - Part 3

"Most excellent, my Lord," Verdant said, following him far quicker than any of the others. It seemed that he too had wanted a word alone. He brushed the tent flap aside, and kneeled in front of him. "As always, you showed no hesitation to do that which others could never have conceived. Allow me to express once again my continued faith in the Lord that I have chosen."

"…Which matter are you complimenting me on, Verdant?" Oliver asked, dryly. The matter with the heads had left a sour taste even for him. It would have chilled him to hear that Verdant did not have any criticism for it.

"Why, the matter of the heads, of course," Verdant said, without hesitation. Oliver almost choked on his grape juice.

"Seriously?" Oliver said, twisting his lips. "Aren't you meant to be my voice of reason? If I have two of you urging me towards those kinds of twisted tactics, what am I to do?"

"Two of us?" Verdant said, tilting his head. "Whatever do you mean, my Lord?"

"A good showing, at last," Ingolsol purred, offering his praise when Oliver least wished to hear it. He noted that Claudia did not even spare him a whisper.

"Nothing," Oliver said at last, almost wishing that the juice was wine – not that he'd ever been drunk.

"You look despondent, my Lord," Verdant said. "Does the decision trouble you to that degree?"

"Less than it should," Oliver said. "That is what troubles me. On the faces of our comrades, I see how I should be reacting and yet I am not."

"It is that reason amongst many why you are suited to be in command, my Lord," Verdant said. "You should not assume to need the attributes of a normal person, when you are, by your very position, a singularity."

The tent flap stirred once more before Oliver could respond. Nila saw Verdant kneeling before Oliver and raised an eyebrow. "Are you nobles always this formal?"

Verdant smiled at the rather flippant remark. "Only when there is a man worth being formal towards, my Lady." He dipped his head towards her. "You have impressed me considerably, Nila Felder."

The girl blushed, an odd thing to see from Nila. She'd grown so used to commanding people, but it seemed that she still hadn't grown used to compliments. "I-it's nothing," she said, looking around the room for some sort of way to change the subject. She spotted the jug that Oliver was holding. "Oh, is that juice?" She took it from him, and poured herself a glass.

Only when she did so did she notice its deep red colour. With a gulp, she slid the cup away. "On second thoughts… I might leave it for now."

The tent flapped was pulled open again, this time by a more rigorous hand, as the main meat of their upper command came in. This time, it was everyone that mattered. Firyr had been left in command of the slave men, given that he had stories to occupy them, and Judas for the first time that day was freed of his post. He made an awkward grimace as he made eye-contact with Oliver.

For some reason, the man seemed embarrassed. Apparently, no one else noticed, for Northman quickly saluted his greeting.

"Captain," he said formally. "Here for the meeting."

Oliver gestured for him to be at ease. Cormrant quickly gave the same greeting, and the few Sergeants that they'd brought with them hurried to do the same. Rofus was amongst their number, and he apparently couldn't stop himself from making a comment in addition to his greetings.

"Captain!" He said, more excitably than the rest. "I'm a little jealous, I've got to say. I think the boys are too – we're wondering why you didn't bring us along when you went scouting."

"There will be opportunities aplenty in future, Rofus," Oliver replied. "Save yourself for them."

"Just do the greeting, and shut your mouth," Northman said, clobbering the man on the back of the head. "This is why I didn't want to bring you."

Rofus yelped, and held his head from the pain, but at least now he had the good sense to remain quiet.

"Same for me, Ser, I've got to say…" Judas said, scratching his head awkwardly. "I should have been there, if I knew there was a fight going to break out."

"I didn't know either," Oliver replied. "You kept the men in line whilst I was away, you performed your duty. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"But there isn't anything to be proud of, either," Judas said. "I'm jealous for that."

"You don't need to prove yourself to me, Judas. When the time comes, I know you'll be ready. Leave that space to the newcomers for now," Oliver said. "They were lucky that opportunity greeted us before the main battle, though whether they recover from it or not is another question. Where's Blackthorn?"

"She retired to her tent," Cormrant informed him. "She didn't seem to realize that there would be a meeting ongoing."

Oliver nodded. "And, Jorah, where are your usual companions?" Only Jorah himself seemed to have made it to the meeting.

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"The same thing, I'm afraid," Jorah said. His face was pale. He did not look a well man. Oliver expected that the majority of the newcomers were likely in the same boat. "I shall fetch the three of them, my Lord."

"No, leave them," Oliver said. "You can go as well, if you wish. For your first battle, I forced on you some horrific sights and tasks. Apologies." He dipped his head, meaning every word. The action caused a stir amongst the men, and it seemed to alarm Jorah, and it provoked a frown from Verdant.

"No, no! My Lord, please, do not bow your head to me!" Jorah said, panicked. "From a strategic standpoint, you could not have given us a safer battle. It is obvious to all just how carefully you are handling us – I do not brush aside or miss that fact whatsoever. You gave us a battle you were certain we could win for our first. What more could we have asked for?"