A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1474 - 1474: A Passing Breeze - Part 5

If not for the dress that the victim wore, it might have been far more difficult to tell that she was indeed a woman. Her attack had paid particular attention to her face, mutilating it beyond all recognition. Her scalp had been disconnected entirely from her body, and tossed to the opposite side of the room, with the hair still attached. What was left seemed more a skeleton than a corpse.

"A servant," Verdant offered calmly, judging what was left of the woman from her clothes. "They intended to make it as cruel as possible. A fact that does not seem to have escaped the other corpses."

"There's likely something in that," Oliver said. "The unnecessary cruelty of it all. If they wanted to cause a sheer panic, then numbers would be the best way to go about it, would it not? If you kill a hundred men, you demonstrate emphatically that the tournament isn't a safe place to be. You bring it all crashing down in an instant."

"As you say, my Lord, that would typically be the best way to go about it," Verdant said.

"Mm?" Oliver stiffened, and pointed his sword towards the tent's entrance, just a second from the throat of their sudden intruder.

"A-apologies!" Came the cry, with hands raised up in the air. Blackthorn was by Oliver's side in a second, pointing her rapier at the young man's gut, whilst Verdant drew his own sword from his belt – in the place of his usual spear – and added to the encirclement.

"I do believe that I told you I had no use for you," Oliver said. "Though, I suppose I was speaking to the others in your group, and not you in particular, Torin. And yet you have followed us here. That presents a problem, does it not?"

He could feel Ingolsol stirring as his irritation rose. He was more and more acutely aware of the lack of time that they had. He didn't want to waste it dealing with problems that were as unnecessary as the one in front of him.

"I-I can help! Please!" Torin said. "I know what the man looks like. I can identify him for you!"

He stammered at first, given all the weapons that were pointed his way, but he gathered himself with a resolute clench of his fist, attempting to meet Oliver's eyes head on. That only lasted a split second, however. There were few people that could meet Oliver's eyes when the golden flecks had begun to swirl.

"…You've already told me what he looks like. Do you not think we would be able to identify a killer, when we have his face to go on? Do you think he could hide his nature from us, or make us suspect an innocent man?" Oliver pressed.

"No, Ser," Torin said, shaking his head rapidly.

"Then I ask you again, why are you here?" Oliver said.

"To help," Torin insisted. "My Lord was killed before my eyes. With his dying breath, he told me to warn you."

"Warn me?" Oliver said, frowning, pulling his sword away ever so slightly. "Warn me of what? Why have you waited until now to say that?"

"…I do not know. Those are the only words that he left me with," Torin said.

"Perhaps Ferdinand was well aware of their intentions to see the tournament sabotaged," Verdant said thoughtfully. "I can imagine him taking measures to prevent that. He's put in a great deal of effort into all these preparations, after all…"

"Perhaps," Oliver agreed. "You have told me your warning, Ser Torin. I have listened. You may leave now."

"…Please, Ser! I wish to help," Torin said.

"You were told to leave," Blackthorn said, pushing her rapier close to his stomach, tearing through his surcoat, and pressing against the cold steel of his chainmail, threatening to pierce all the way through. "We are busy here. If you stay any longer, you'll be declaring yourself an enemy."

"I can help," Torin said stubbornly. "There are only three of you. Surely four would be better?"

"I would much prefer two retainers that I can trust with my life, than a third that I have to keep an eye on," Oliver said. "If I have to spend time and attention on you, you will only be limiting us, not assisting us. I have no reason to trust you."

"I swear to you, I shall do as you ask of me," Torin said. "I wish to be useful. I can not allow my Lord's death to go unpunished. I shall follow him to the grave – but before then, I wish to know that the man that did it has been put to death."

Oliver twisted his lips. "You're irritatingly stubborn. What will you do if, by delaying us here, you've allowed your Lord's assassin to escape."

"I shall make up for it, by proving to you that my assistance was a worthwhile acquisition."

"...Verdant?" Oliver asked.

"His intentions seem to be pure, at least," Verdant said. "I do not get a sense of trickery from him. It is up to you, my Lord."

"I have no use for an individual," Oliver said. "I do not know you, so I can not trust you to act as such. If you wish to serve me, then do so as a soldier, with all the discipline that military personnel should carry themselves with."

"At once, Ser!" Torin said, saluting. He blushed when he realized his mistake, and quickly corrected it. "At once, Captain Patrick," he said.

"I suppose that will do," Oliver said, sheathing his sword at last. "And I suppose I might as well ask you, before we leave this tent for another. Any thoughts on what we see before us, Torin? Any suppositions in motivation?"

Torin shook his head. "It's only cruelty. I heard the man who killed my Lord say the same. They were given orders, not to allow for a quick death."

"Interesting…" Verdant mused. "They're increasing the risk that they're discovered in the act of killing with orders like that. I can't say I see what they gain. Naturally, rumours will spread of the barbarity… but as before, it does seem it would have been far more effective to have simply killed a greater number."