A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1485 - 1485: The Realm's Most Valiant - Part 3

"…This tournament of yours seems a perfect opportunity to test yourself, boy," Blackthorn said. "I was disappointed when you did not enter your name into the melee ranks. I wished to crush properly the man that dared to accept my daughter's oath of loyalty."

"I hope in time, you might forgive me for that, my Lord," Oliver said. "When a warrior like Lady Blackthorn offers you their blade, however, you would have to be a fool to decline it. I've grown to rely on her."

"…Hmph," Blackwell said. "Be that as it may – you will enter these tournaments, even if only as an exhibition. We will see your sword tested properly. You disgust me, in organizing an event like this, and thinking that you can only hide in the realm of strategy."

"Something tells me that if I do not agree to this, you will not remove yourself from my way, and tell me your intentions for being here…" Oliver said. "…However I will refuse regardless. I see no reason to. I would sully the efforts of the men that had fought through the rounds before me if I merely entered into the ranks."

General Blackthorn spat at that. "Colonels that have not yet taken a General's head have no right to complain. You tell them that I asked it of you."

"I would not use a better man's name for my own betterment," Oliver said.

General Blackthorn growled even louder this time, far more like the bear that he was. "You bloody coward," he spat. "Is this the man that you have chosen to serve, Lasha?" He swatted at the blade that she pointed his way with the back of his gauntled fist, throwing it off to the side. "Get that toy away from me. You still don't know how to use it."

Oliver stepped ever so slightly to the right, putting himself between the two of them, and hardening his voice. "Now, General Blackthorn, I have listened to your personal complaints. Tell me then, what is your business here, as a servant of Queen Asabel Pendragon? What orders do you act on, and for what reason do you stand in my way? As you say, my time has all but run out. If we waste any more of it, I doubt that your Queen will be pleased."

The General looked as if he might lunge at him any second. His anger only increased. And yet, finally, when his Queen's name was spoken, he did relent. "…This is where your man is hiding, though I know not exactly where."

"…Really?" Oliver could not deny his surprise at that. The General had no men with him, and no obvious means of tracking down any sort of killer. And yet he stated it with the most explicit confidence.

"I said so, didn't I?" General Blackthorn said. "There are five tents. If I act on one, he will move, as he has before."

"…So you're the reason that he's been running so far, without us ever seeing him," Oliver said, with a sudden bout of realization. The killer had constantly moved as if fleeing something, but how could he know that they were so hot on his trail without them ever seeing him in turn? With the inclusion of an animal like Lord Blackthorn, that predicament made far more sense. "Did it occur to you, Lord Blackthorn, that if you'd taken a single one of your Queen's men, you would have captured him already."

"I think not," Lord Blackthorn said plainly. "He's a worm. He would wiggle free of them. Useless though you are, you have more use in capturing him than them."

"Hm…" Oliver stroked his chin. "Very well then, General Blackthorn. This is your trap that you have set, and so we will act on your orders. You seem to understand the situation better than we. What are your orders?"

"At least you're quick in this sort of understanding," Blackthorn said, with just the smallest edge of approval. "I will strike at the tent that he is most likely in, and the second he moves, you and your people will cut him down. If you fail this, I will cut you down myself. Darkness comes, and his sort does better in the dark than you seem to realize – else you would have moved faster than you have."

"Very well. That seems simple enough," Oliver said.

"If only it was," Blackthorn replied. "You're a fool for thinking so. There exist more creatures than just the likes of Generals and soldiers, Patrick. The Gods work in different ways. Screw that fact firmly in your damn head, and do not be surprised when you are bested, as I suppose you will be."

Oliver's eyes were still flecked with gold. It was impossible to stand up to an overwhelming man like General Blackthorn without Ingolsol's mighty arrogance to support him. When Oliver asked of Ingolsol his assistance, in evaluating the surroundings, the Dark God performed none of his usual bargaining. The fact that Lord Blackthorn had supposed it would be beyond them was reason enough to try it – Ingolsol liked, more than anything, proving people wrong. His disagreeable nature was as irritating as it was reliable.

Hundreds of people filled their awareness. All the crowds that had once been gathered around the tournament fields now freely passed by them. They gave the gathering of high-standing noblemen a wide berth, but they still looked on curiously, and acted as a natural camouflaged for the presence of anything that he might be different.

Oliver frowned his concentration, trying to get a sense for that which Blackthorn had. The great General must have had a sense for something, in order to track the killer down this far. But with so many different individuals, the killer and his lacking presence seemed near impossible to find.

Without saying another word, Blackthorn had turned, and drawn his sword, and was now stalking menacing towards one of the tents. Clearly he had chosen his most likely target, and was about to act, before checking to see if they were ready. It was definitely the right choice, for the last few fingers of sunlight were fading away with each passing second, but it still made Oliver's head thud with frustration.