A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1409 - 1409: Ambitions - Part 6

"…That would be because it was a Corpse Soldier, and we've heard that story before," Karesh muttered, leaning on his great sword.

Firyr wasn't the only one practising his individual combat skills. The whole of the training grounds seemed to be dedicated to that today. The different Commanders and officers, in Kaya, Yorick, Jorah and Karesh were practising their own skills as well. Kaya had three men set against him too, and as Oliver watched, he calmly put the three of them back onto the floor, using nothing but his gauntlet-covered hands.

"Greetings, Ser Patrick," Jorah said, noticing him first, and coming over to pay his respects.

"They're enthusiastic," Oliver said, gesturing to the rest of the men.

"That they are…" Jorah sighed. "To confirm, it was a hundred men that we were to choose from them, wasn't it?"

"It was. If we put in the entire force of our standing force, I'm sure there would be complaints," Oliver said. He'd certainly considered allowing all his men to enter as he pleased, but he quickly came to the conclusion that it would make for a ridiculous sight, seeing a quarter of every melee filled with Patrick soldiers.

"On what grounds are we choosing them, do you suppose, Captain?" Jorah said. "If it be based on enthusiasm, then they're difficult to tell apart. If it's based on skill, naturally, our most veteran men are going to be the only ones to enter… But I don't suppose you would wish for that, given your aim in raising morale?"

"You can take perhaps twenty of the newer men, that look worthy of it," Oliver said. "Something for them to aim for, given how much it seems to be lending them energy in their training."

"That would certainly work, Ser," Jorah agreed. "And when will you choose them?"

"You can choose them," Oliver said. "You know the newer recruits better than me at this point. I'll leave it to your judgement to decide who joins."

"OHHH! CAPTAIN!" Firyr shouted, from across the training grounds, managing to spy him through the thickness of men, after putting another group of three on their backs with his spear. "SPAR WITH ME, CAPTAIN!!"

"He's like a dog…" Jorah muttered under his breath.

"He certainly seems energetic," Oliver noted with a smile.

"I ought to be grateful, given that he's devoting that energy to training, and it'll only make him a more valuable ally in future… But I am finding it hard to be, given his loudness," Jorah frowned. "He has no tact either, no matter how much we explain it to him. Had he served under any other Captain, he would have been flogged for interrupting you like that."

Firyr hadn't just interrupted Oliver, he'd interrupted the entire training ground, unbeknownst to him. His shouting brought the attention of the rest of the men towards their Captain, and they paused their fighting, to stand at the ready.

"Will ya spar with me, Captain?" Firyr asked. "This lot are useless. I'm not going to get any good training in like this."

"Have you not asked another man of the Second Boundary?" Oliver said. "I am sure Lady Blackthorn would be pleased to spar with you."

"…I ain't asked her," Firyr said. "I don't think she'd agree."

"He at least has the sense to know that he should not be approaching Lady Blackthorn with anything outside our usual realm of operations," Jorah said. "But still he seems to think it's fine to shout half the distance of the village to beg for a favour from the Lord that he serves."

"…Did I do something wrong?" Firyr said, finally noticing Jorah's glare.

Jorah sighed. "I've tried to explain decorum to you a thousand times before, and still you don't have the slightest idea what I am talking about."

"Now, now," Oliver said. "All in time, Jorah. A man has things that he is good at, and other things that take time to arrive. Firyr has at least shown a degree of improvement in the way that he carries himself, even if he hasn't exactly become a role model yet."

"Begging your pardon, my Lord, but Firyr is a Commander, and has been for a while. He should be setting an example in all things. Not only combat," Jorah said. "Though I admit, when it comes to individual combat, he has the rest of us Commanders beat."

"Apart from Lady Blackthorn," Oliver said. "I do suppose that she still stands above you, Firyr, even if you are of the Second Boundary now."

"Do you think so, Captain?" Firyr said, with an excited smile. "Wait and see, I'll get you to check. You're ready to spar, aye? I'll show you what I've been working on. I'll flatten anyone in the tourney with this. They'll wish they hadn't come."

Firyr was already settling into his fighting stance, with his spear pointed at Oliver. Oliver had yet to even draw his sword, nor reach for a practise blade. Jorah, noticing all this, seemed to be reaching the end of its rope.

"It's fine, Jorah. I'll spar him for a while," Oliver said. "A man who seeks to strengthen himself deserves a bit more patience, I'd wager."

"…I'll set the men back to training then, my Lord," Jorah said. "Would you care for my practise sword?" He asked, offering it up by the hilt.

"I would, thank you," Oliver took it, and Jorah made his hurried leave.

"Back to training, all of you!" He heard the Commander shout as he left. "The Captain has granted Firyr's request for sparring. You can watch in between rounds – but until then, continue!"

"You're awfully confident," Oliver said, noting Firyr's smile.

"Hehe, I've got a new technique, Captain," Firyr said, as he circled him, pointing his spear Oliver's way. "I think even you'll struggle to fend off this one."

"I'm ready," Olive said dryly.

"I'll go straight for it then!" Firyr said, rushing in. He lowered his spear like a pikeman would, rushing a line of soldiers, and then, just before he came in close, he raised it with a suddenness, and then swatted at Oliver from the side, using the spear's shaft, more than its point, wielding it like a staff.

Naturally, Oliver simply ducked out of the way, feeling nothing but the strong rush of air, as the spear sped past him.