A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1271 - 1271: Body Against Mind - Part 6

He declared it all miserably enough, but his eyes only contained sadness for the briefest few seconds.

"But this time, we had it defended, and I didn't lose anyone close," Greeves said. "I ain't going to toot my horn and say that was all my doing. That little fox Nila put it all together, and that Pendragon lioness you sent to look after us cleaned it up. But aye, there was peril, and we survived it, and the losses were comparatively little."

"Is that what has you so excited?" Oliver said.

"It's progress, ain't it?" Greeves said. "I thought I'd been wasting the year, but Loriel would be pleased. I know she would. That we can protect it now, instead of letting things go as they did in the past, she'd praise that."

"…Is that all?" Oliver said. "I'm sure you've gone mad, Greeves. That doesn't make the slightest bit of sense for such a dramatic turnaround. The dots don't line up. There isn't enough weight in that stupid little realization to clean yourself up like you claim yourself to be."

"Now there's a cruel little shit of a Lord, eh. You just going to trample over my feelings? Or do you reckon a slimy man like me couldn't possibly have loved anyone, is that it?" Greeves said.

"Aye, I'd doubt that," Oliver said. "But more like, I don't know why you'd be so happy now… Loriel isn't… She's still gone."

Greeves inclined his head. "She is," Greeves said. "But I reckon, when I do see her again, she ain't going to be displeased with me. I've been careful, these years… I reckon she'd see that."

"So it is a God that you've discovered," Oliver said, sighing. "Since when did you talk about the afterlife?"

"What? You making fun of a man for religion now? Ain't you always going on about Claudia?" Greeves said.

"I don't think I've mentioned Claudia to you once," Oliver pointed out. "And it's not religion what you're doing. You've just had a convenient idea, and you reckon you've got it all solved. It's sickening, is what it is, Greeves. It's as fragile as a tower of cards.

I'm just thinking of what the fallout is going to be, and what a pain in the arse you're going to be like, when your little convenient ideas fall through."

Even Oliver had his own way of talking around Greeves. He found it ever so easy to slip back into his old ways of talking, as he would have done if he were still a peasant. He felt better for it. There was a cruelty to the directness of how peasants spoke that was more easily forgivable than if a noble had said it.

Greeves laughed it off. "Aye, you're a bastard alright. Hero of Solgrim my arse. If they overheard you saying anything like that, they'd know what a cruel fucker you are."

"I'm just being honest," Oliver shrugged. "Besides, you didn't disagree."

"It ain't like you're wrong. I don't know why I'm in a good mood. Yer right, a couple of fragile ideas ain't enough to change a man's world. And yer probably right as well, that it'll all come crumbling down soon, and I'll be back drinking, and I'll probably tie a rope around my neck and jump off a chair with how bad it gets. But y'know, I'm finding I don't care.

For the week, or two weeks that it stays, I'll enjoy it. We survived the battle, and we fucked the Ernest Guild, the repairs are going to plan. Life is good," Greeves said.

"Well, if that's what you're thinking, then that makes more sense," Oliver said. "As ridiculous as it sounds, perhaps it'll stay. I hope for your sake that it will. You did well in the defence. You and Nila both. I don't think you need any more suffering than you've had already."

Greeves shook his head at that, his smile dimming ever so slightly. "Nah. I wouldn't have thought so, boy. As nice as it is for you to say it. I could go the rest of my life suffering, and for what I've done, it wouldn't be enough."

"Perhaps, but maybe these Gods of ours know forgiveness," Oliver said.

"If they do, then what of me?" Greeves said. "If I want change, and a different path, how can I have new understandings, without looking at what I once was in disgust, eh? If the Gods forgive me, would I forgive myself? Would I even be able to stop myself from doing the same things? I ain't convinced. I'm measuring myself… But I still ain't fully convinced.

Some things that you'd call terrible need to be done, and I'd probably still do them in a heartbeat, if that was what was necessary. I'm not no saint."

"…Maybe I judged you too harshly in the past for those things," Oliver said. "Your way, it might be the right way. There are others that seem to believe it to be strong, at least in terms of strategy. Wounds can be afflicted on the enemy deeper than they otherwise would be if someone has the malice to execute them."

"Hm…" Greeves said, studying him as they walked. Oliver didn't meet his gaze. "You saw some stuff out there, eh? I thought as much. None of the others will tell me either. But Firyr talks, he does.

I think I can guess what you're pointing to. I reckon I'd have done the same thing in their position."

"And you're good at what you do," Oliver said. "I didn't realize how good. But watching these meetings with you makes it clear that Solgrim's growth is in no small part due to your efforts. Perhaps you might even have contributed more than anyone."

"Nah," Greeves said. "Nah… I won't accept that. See, my skills haven't sharpened. I was hungrier, and more crafty in my youth. If anything, I can feel the years and the drink dulling me. The experience I've gathered just barely keeps me level, and only slightly below the standard I was at my best...

But if you reckon it's my skill alone that's done all this, then you'd be mistaken. If it was, why couldn't I have done it sooner? I spent nearly a decade sitting on a pile of coin that never seemed to grow, and never even seemed to shrink. For all the dealings I tried, I never managed a business opening in Ernest. The best I could do was leverage my weight here.

If my skills worsened, what changed to allow for it?"

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