A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1478 - 1478: A Passing Breeze - Part 9

"…No, I think your judgement to be right," Oliver said seriously. "She might be a Queen, but she will insist on helping, once she knows the state of this woman. This might be… overstepping, given that I hold no place in her court, and I have no right to say what she can and can't do. But I do not think they should disallow her from the nature that guides her. It is acts of care like this, that she has meted out in the past, that have made Asabel who she is. It is why her subjects love her. I would prefer not to see her become a mere instrument of office."

"That is an… unusually farsighted point of view, given the situation, my Lord," Verdant said. "But I do find myself agreeing. I will negotiate in what ways I can with those under her, such that she might at least be given the opportunity to try, should she wish for it."

"Torin, stand outside," Oliver said. "My men will be coming now. Point them to us."

"Yes, Captain!" Torin said, apparently delighted to be given something to do, since he'd been standing there somewhat awkwardly, now that they had already bandaged what wounds of the victimized woman that they could. That, and something about the killer's stare, as she lay bound on the floor, made the young man distinctly uncomfortable.

Torin could not have supposed that he would be standing outside for as short a time as he was. Nearly the same instant that he'd set himself up in position to serve as a way marker, the first head of a stream of men rounded a corner in the wood-chipped road between tents, and came racing towards him. Amongst them, was a girl with fierce eyes and wild red-hair, only partially tamed by the two braids that had been put in it.

"Is he in there?" The woman asked of Torin, with that mass of fierce men pulling up behind her, glaring him down.

"Well?" Firyr said, prodding him, when Torin did not reply instantly. "We don't have time to be standing around, you little shit. I got dragged into playing a messenger boy, now I'm bloody well pissed off. Why are you here, when I had to go jogging, eh?"

Firyr had seized him by the collar before Torin could even hope t o get a word out. And then there was Judas, on the other side of him, a giant with a foul look. If one was to get intimidated by anything, it would be those two aggressive men pinning him down.

"Stop," Nila said with burning irritation. "You're only slowing us all down, you fools. What would Oliver say if he saw you? He's in there, is he not? Nod if you can't speak. They're annoying, but they are right. We're busy here."

Torin gave in, and relented with a nod, and then it was as if he didn't exist again. The men, and the red-haired girl that led them, all came past. It was easy to tell just how violently strong such men were, even on a single glance. Torin could well believe the stories of their valour in the war with the Verna – not that he had ever doubted them in the first place. There was a weight to such men. Now that they had arrived, somehow, Torin had the feeling that nothing could possibly defeat them.

The first sound from Nila was a gasp, seeing the state of the woman left breathing so pitifully in the tent. She wasn't as bad as she had been, now that she'd seen a treatment at the hands of Verdant's bandages, but it was still far from being a pretty sight, with blood scattered on all the walls of the tent.

"So this is what we're dealing with…" She said, collecting herself.

"Nila," Oliver said, acknowledging her. "Has Jorah filled you in? You know our task?"

"I do," Nila said seriously. "Though I can hardly believe it. Ferdinand, of all people… I could never have supposed in a thousand years."

"I heard too that you made it through your round of competition," Oliver said, with just the smallest of smiles. "Good job. I'll come and watch you in the finals when this is all done. I promise."

"…This isn't the time to be talking about such things," Nila said, turning her head away so that he could not see her reaction. "You asked me here to track this killer down, did you not?"

"I did," Oliver said. "I'll show you where the crime took place. We'll have to backtrack a bit, but with your eyes, no doubt the course will be far quicker."

"Jorah already took me there," Nila said. "I examined it on the way here. His footprints pointed in this direction – or what was left of them did. He's certainly well trained in hiding his tracks. I thought that was why you were here, you'd followed those same footsteps."

Oliver shook his head. "We went vaguely in the direction Torin thought him to run in, but we quickly realized we weren't going to be able to track him. So, we've been focusing on identifying what tents we can. As you can see, he isn't the only killer."

"An old woman," Nila said.

"She did all this?" Firyr asked. "Nasty blood wretch, she is. How comes you haven't killed her yet, Captain?"

"Her ankles are broken," Verdant said mildly. "She has not escaped suffering."

Nila gave Oliver a harsh look at that, but he merely gave the slightest of shrugs.

"I see you've found your way here as well, Judas," Oliver said. "It's appreciated. You'll be able to get more out of the locals than most of our men could. Their eyes should be valuable."

"The Boss heard, an' he couldn't exactly stand around doing nothing," Judas said. "He ran off somewhere, and told me to find you, he did. But I doesn't know what exactly he's up to. Dunno if he's gonna come and help."

"Mm," Oliver said. "A little weasel he might be, but I think we can rely on him. If he's run to do something, it must be something worth doing – either for us, or for him. That man rarely runs anywhere."

"Queen Asabel has been informed as well," Jorah said, taking the opportunity to give his report. "She promises to send aid, as soon as she has spoken to her men."