A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1479 - 1479: A Passing Breeze - Part 10

"Excellent," Oliver said. "We shall have need of her already."

"She's insisting on looking at Ferdinand, though…" Jorah said.

Oliver winced at that. "As skilled as she is, no one can put life back into a body once it has left. Not without some twist of magic – but such a thing would never be without a cost. It would never truly be the same life again. I imagine she merely wishes to confirm with her own eyes – it was a shock to us too, after all."

"Indeed," Jorah said. "The Queen did seem rather distressed by the news. But she was very polite in receiving me, my Lord. It was a great honour. Her retainers wished to see my turn away, but she noticed me before they could, and gave me an audience, despite me being the Serving Class man that I am."

"You are a Commander for the Patrick House," Verdant corrected him. "Do not reduce your station, Jorah. You dishonour us all. I have a question for you, if you have finished giving your report."

"Please, ask away, Lord Idris," Jorah said.

"General Blackthorn – how was his reaction to the news," Verdant said.

There was a question enough to stir all the gathered men – those that could fit into the tent, for them being nearly thirty as they were, Jorah had made sure that the majority were forced to wait outside.

"…Mild," Jorah said, remembering. "I think the General was unhappy with the news, but it's hard to tell."

"Unhappy?" Verdant said, nearly smiling. "What are we to make of that, Lady Blackthorn?"

"I do not think father will take any joy in this," Blackthorn said. "Lord Blackwell is his rival. He will be insulted that lowly killers managed to harm his family."

"Did he seem likely to get in the way of our efforts?" Verdant said, clarifying with Jorah. "That is the main point of contention, I do believe. For as much as we can count on Queen Asabel's good heart, I worry that her retainers will sense the need to get in her way, especially when there is this much danger afoot."

"Now that you mention it, Lancelot didn't seem particularly happy…" Jorah remembered.

"Naturally," Oliver said. "The man knows his job. He'll be a pain. But I can't blame him for it. The life of his Queen should always take priority above everything else, no matter how much of a bind it might leave us in. Very well, the situation being what it is, we'll make use of the pieces that we have. We are wasted in drawing up the most complicated of plans. Now is the time for action, so I will give my orders with haste. We will split up into squadrons, and we will continue to identify tents, and identify killers. Thus far, I do not believe the killers to be of a strength that our men should struggle to fight them, only to track them. The squadrons will be led as such."

"Kaya, you'll take five men. Jorah and Karesh, the same. Firyr, another five are yours. Judas, you'll take five too. The remaining five shall stay with me. We will concentrate our efforts solely on Ferdinand's killer, and ignore all else," Oliver said. "If we receive assistance from Queen Asabel, inform her men of her plan. In particular, inform Lord Blackthorn, if you can. I have a feeling, from what Verdant and Lady Blackthorn have said, he might be more keen to assist us than the rest of her men. Am I understood?"

Oliver saw no hands raised in question, nor any doubtful looks written on their faces. Torin watched, in awe of how swiftly a task force had been put together. The report had been delivered with all the casualness in the world, but as soon as the time for action had come, it was as if they were one organism working together. Their focus was absolute, and their determination was written on their faces.

"Then go, and go swiftly," Oliver said. "A good man has died today. A rival, perhaps. But he did not deserve the death he was delivered. You, men of mine, shall see to it that justice is delivered for him. By the hands of the Gods. Go – and see it done."

With a clattering of weapons, low growls, and steadfast nods, the squadrons gathered themselves outside, and the orders were given between them just as fast as they had been inside the tent. They decided on the grounds to be covered between them, and then they were off, just like that, as swiftly as they had come, leaving behind only the Lady with the red hair, that Torin was now able to identify with a certainty as Lady Felder.

"And I am assuming," Nila said, when the others had gone. "That I will be staying with you?"

"We're going to be relying on you," Oliver told her.

"I'm not sure how much there is I can do. The trail went completely cold a few tents back. That's why we gave up, and just came to report in with you," Nila said. "Whoever these guys are, they're realllly good, Oliver. They're not just some people that you hire off the street. It's incredibly hard to make your trail disappear like that, in conditions like this. The soggy mud should keep you well brought down, but it's as if at one point this man just gets up and flies… Wait…"

Now Nila was glaring at the roof of the tent, as she trailed off mid sentence, quite thoroughly distracted by something.

"…Have you realized something?" Oliver asked, as patiently as he was able to. She held a finger up to silence him, however.

"Shhh, it'll disappear if I don't think it through now," she said, keeping her gaze fixed on the roof of the tent, as she retraced her steps back towards the door, taking care to step over the tied body of the old assassin as she did so.

Oliver and Verdant went out with her. Blackthorn took that as her signal to keep an eye on the wounded lady, though Verdant had informed her, as bluntly as he was able, that there was little more they could do for her now that her wounds were dressed. Blackthorn's job in watching her was merely to make sure that she was still drawing breath into her lungs. The second that she was not, only then did she have something to do, in attempting to resuscitate her.