A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1344 - 1344: Tainted Chalices - Part 1

It was a game of devilishness. Different strange one-upmanships done to the full extent that sinisterness went. Of course, in such a game, the High King had almost the exclusive advantage, given that he wielded the highest level of power in the country. But his words bore the trace of other inputs. No doubt someone had helped him write his speeches, and had helped him strategize his rewards.

There slithered a great many serpents beneath the rim of the High King's golden crown.

Then there came the time for General Broadstone and General Rainheart to be rewarded. Rainheart was given the higher reward, in the form of another Verna city – one that he likely was not too keen on receiving, given that he already had lands in the Stormfront. Broadstone too received a city to defend, but his was the worst of the four.

Rainheart had been given Jilian, further away from the new Verna border, whilst Broadstone had been given Karmo, right in front of their enemy.

Somehow, strategically, even if the rewards were given for the purpose of achievement, Oliver fancied that he liked such a placement. Broadstone, though he had not secured altogether many heads during the battling of the campaign, he seemed a good defender. He had kept his castle well held until the very end. He seemed a temperate enough man that he could withstand the hostilities.

He was dull enough that the slightest of sparks would not catch on him. He didn't seem to be the type to grow emotional.

Then there was Rainheart, set closer. He was a little more volatile in his old age, but far from being as volatile as Karstly. That the two older Generals were closer to the Verna border made a good deal of sense.

Of course, for the men themselves, it was no doubt a little irritating. They had served loyally, only to be given a poisoned chalice. They likely had no want to further their lands, being as old as they were. They would have been just as content to be given something with an easy monetary value that they could gift to their heirs.

Now, they had to split their attention over great distances, and incur the massive headache that was due to occur in the process.

At the very least, though, when the Verna horde came screaming for revenge, three years hence, some of the best defenders that the Stormfront could offer would be right there in their way to meet them.

"These are our Generals, people of the Stormfront," the High King said, concluding his speech celebrating them. "The hope for the future of our nation. For the dream of the Stormfront first King to be achieved. For our empire to stretch over the entirety of the continent. They are the men that shall make such a dream possible. Hear their names, hear their rewards, and give thanks to them."

Oliver had wondered what would come next. He was due to be rewarded, he knew, given the invitation that he had received by royal decree. But somehow, after the ceremony that had been had, celebrating the deeds of Generals, and all the people higher than he was, it didn't seem as if the focus could be naturally shifted to the ants that did battle beneath their feet.

He shifted his feet uncomfortably, suddenly feeling as if he would rather not have come. He looked at the crowd, wondering how he might thread his way through it. Then he wondered if he really would be rewarded at all. The High King's greatest weapon was pettiness. It was far from being beyond him to send out an invitation, only to ignore him at the ceremony, and have him attend for nothing.

At the very least, it seemed as if it would be more natural to have a ceremony for the lesser men on different days. The people had climbed too high, they'd been allowed to look upon Gods. They had seen the scribes etching different names into their history books in the very moment that it had happened. Their interest, naturally, should not have been preserved for the lesser men.

But that, it turned out, was a wrong kind of prediction on Oliver's part.

There was mentioned the name of a Blackthorn Colonel, who had achieved a particularly great number of heads, battling under General Blackwell. And the people went silent to hear his name.

"Colonel Kustus. The slaying of a great many Rogue Commandants. General Blackwell has put your name forward for a reward, and my strategists have looked at the value of your deeds, and determined that the crowd indeed should see it fit for you to be rewarded," the High King said.

"You will forgive me for not remembering all the names of the lands nearest you, for there are ever so many, but your domain has been expanded by three villages, including all the lands around them, and in between them. Congratulations, Ser."

Oliver's eyebrows wrinkled. He wondered if anyone else could hear the obvious disinterest in the High King's voice. He was not even attempting to disguise it. He had not even bothered to have the name written down of the town that the Colonel ruled over, to say nothing of the villages. But the noblemen did not seem to mind. They stirred with excitement.

A different kind of excitement than what they had stirred with in hearing the rewards of the Generals. That had been reverence, this was closer to want. These were the sorts of rewards that they could see themselves attaining, if they were to ever perform at their very best.

They seemed to think it to only be natural that a High King would not remember the name of all the villages. He had more important duties to attend to than that, did he not? To remember the various little villages was the job of the minor nobles like them, and he made that abundantly clear.

Another Colonel was brought up, and handed another two villages, with all the lands around them. Oliver recognized some of their names from Blackwell's awards ceremonies, and he frowned slightly to himself, as he saw the deeds that they had achieved decreasing in magnitude, whilst none of the names of the Patrick men were mentioned.