A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1497 - 1497: The Need for War - Part 5

"…If you would give me room to dodge an answer, my Queen, I would gladly take it," Lord Idris said meekly.

"I refuse," Queen Asabel said, her fire returning, to the point that she was near overwhelming. "You will speak with all the honesty you can muster. I command it of you."

"Then I can declare, without any degree of uncertainty, that it is the High King," Lord Idris said, and the way he said it, it was like Verdant was standing in the room with them. He oozed loyalty, and vision, and that reliability that Oliver had come to appreciate in the man's son. "I have kept an eye to the manoeuvrings of the Capital, and there have been characters too that I have kept an eye on. There has been a particular assassin, by the name of Melicos, that has been sighted within range of him – but never together."

"Melicos…" Queen Asabel said. "I have a feeling that name ought to be familiar… But why did you not warn me? If you sensed something was afoot, you should have come and informed me."

"There was no certainty as to what he might do, Queen Asabel. There are so many matters that require your attention, I can not dilute those of importance with the many possible lines of different happenings," Lord Idris said. "Merely the sight of the assassin is not a matter of overwhelming interest. He has been raised to the ranks of nobility, after all. For all else that is attached to him, he was a mere nobleman walking in the gardens of his King. None of could have questioned that."

"Bastards," Lord Blackthorn growled. "They're taunting us. So bloody certain of themselves. They can walk around with assassins in the broad daylight, and think that nothing can come of them."

"…Arrogance does seem to be another strong emotion behind this plot," Lord Idris said.

"So you speak your certainty, and you even know whose hand arranged it," Queen Asabel said. "And yet you counsel me in a direction opposed to justice? I am disappointed, Lord Idris. You, Lord Blackthorn. You see in a way that is different to my Pillar of Coin. Your instincts often see what our eyes can not. Can you speak with the same certainty as he, in regards to the perpetrator?"

"I can," Lord Blackthorn said. "The stench of weakness, the stench of killers. Assassins Blessed by Nocturna – those are a rarity. You'd need a man like Melicos to put together so many trained killers."

"But in the end, rather than logic, it's the stench that gives them away, is it?" Lord Idris remarked dryly. "And how would you counsel our Queen then, knowing as much?"

Blackthorn ground his teeth, and clenched his fist. It was clear to Oliver which path he wished to point to. There was a man with more war in his heart than any other creature in the Kingdom. But he had sworn loyalty to a Queen, and it was her safety that he had to prioritise above all others.

"That is answer enough," Queen Asabel said, seeing through him. "You both know where justice lies, but you do not have the heart to tell me to pursue it. You come to me, General Patrick, under Lord Blackwell's orders, and that is what you seek of me, is it not? Justice?"

"The realm has stank of corruption for the longest time," Oliver said. "A great many men voice their discontent. Men wiser than I. They believe it is time for a change."

"They believe it is time for war," Queen Asabel remarked harshly. "The justice that you would have me carry out, it would set the realm on fire. Hundreds of thousands would die. The innocent would be dragged into it. You would have me plunge the realm into civil war."

"…You see me as I am, my Queen," Oliver said, dipping his head. "That is the road that is in front of us. And it is not even certain that we would win. Yet I have come here to ask it of you anyway."

"What of you, General Patrick? Your fondness for your home is beyond that of a normal Lord looking after his lands. How does your heart fare, knowing that this war will put them in increasing danger?" Queen Asabel asked.

"Any day, I might perish on the battlefield," Oliver told her. "Any day, I might be called away to fight in foreign wars. For as long as there are such certainties, my home has remained in danger. If not for your mercy, my home would already be ash. This war is something that I can justify to myself."

"…How motivated are you by past grudges?" Queen Asabel asked.

"Entirely," Oliver said, with a grin full of cruel humour. "How could I not be, knowing everything that was done? Knowing the lives that were contorted by this corruption? They sullied the name of Dominus Patrick. They robbed the realm of the great hero Arthur."

"Not to mention the acts that they have carried out against you," Queen Asabel said.

"Against Solgrim," Oliver said. "The attempts on my life are one thing. The attempts on what is far more important are quite another."

"So you are angry enough that you can overlook the destruction that this will all bring?" Queen Asabel said.

"It is a necessity," Oliver said. "I believe that firmly. It has required this single instance for our discontent to explode, but none of us could possibly deny that it has been building. The High King has taken liberties for far too long. This is that drop in the bucket that sets the water to overflowing."

Queen Asabel heaved a long sigh, and her shoulders sagged. "If I am to plunge the realm into civil war, can I do so with the hope that we would win?"

"I dare not say so," Lord Idris said. "We do not have the men."

"…The board isn't good," Blackthorn grunted.

"It's practically an impossible feat," Oliver added, almost cheerfully.

"And then, why do I get the sense that even though the three of you seem to be talking me out of it, there is nothing you want more than this?" Queen Asabel said.

She looked at them accusingly, and Oliver dared to look with the same eyes. Only then did he see what the Queen saw. Two great men, bristling in their outrage. Logic firmly cemented the path they could take, and yet their hearts – even that of Lord Idris, so cold in his heart as he was in his pale blue eyes – pointed in an entirely different direction.

"Who am I to move against your wants?" Queen Asabel asked. "I am your Queen, and I move upon the desires of the people, spoken or unspoken. The Gods push me towards it. Declare it then, I say, in my name. Injustice has been perpetuated for far too long. If I ignore the flames of war, and the destruction that it will certainly bring, my heart too does stir to an unsettling degree. To be a Pendragon, and to ignore such corruption – my Uncle would not stand for it. I will harden my heart, and give you what you desire – what the Gods deem to be necessary. Use my name, and begin the efforts of war."

Oliver's mouth curled up into a dangerous smile, as a wave of emotion passed over him. He knelt before his Queen, warmed by the fire that she brought. There was a strong woman, he could feel it, he'd always known it. She bore the ferocity of a lioness, even whilst retaining that ever caring heart of hers. She flashed her fangs, with dangerous, wounded and yet determined eyes. It was a contradiction beyond human understanding. It touched straight into the realm of the Gods. Oliver bathed in it, hardly understanding it, and yet he delighted in it regardless. 'This is what a Queen ought to be,' was his only thought, dealt with iron certainty.

He'd looked down on her, in supposing that he might be dishonest in attempting to sway her. That was never a possibility from the start. No matter how much he thought he had grown, Queen Asabel was still a creature different than he. In certain directions, she loomed like a giant, and made him appear no smaller than an ant.

He knew it was not only he who was moved by her display. General Blackthorn, ferocious beast that he was, found himself brought low by the same flames. A bear, awed by the image of fire. He knelt before her, his aura of Command streaming out of him, enough to bind tens of thousands of men to his ultimate will without question – and it didn't make Queen Asabel flinch in even the slightest degree.

"In your name, my Queen, I will secure glorious victory, after glorious victory," he promised. "There will be no finer war than this. No grander battles fought, or castles conquered. I will not lose, not even once. Find certainty in that my Queen. I make that promise before the Gods."

"I will hold you to that," Queen Asabel said, quite dangerously, her eyes piercing through him, her will dragging his soul to heights that men ought not dare achieve.

Oliver was struck suddenly by it. The way that their service to her elevated them. 'A Queen, this is what she ought to be,' he thought again. 'Her very presence makes us stronger. Our loyalty to her, it raises us all up higher.'

Lord Idris was the last to kneel. One would have thought he would do so with a lament, and a shake of his head. But beneath that cold stone exterior, there lay a man with Verdant's quiet passion, overwhelming, and intoxicated. "Queen Asabel," he said reverently. "You are all that I thought you were. Allow me to restate my loyalty. If logic declares that our victory is impossible, I will cast aside logic, and deal in stranger things. I will do whatever it takes to ensure that this cause is a success. The sacrifices that you fear will not be wasted. On my name, my House, my very heart, I do swear it."

Asabel greeted his swearing with a stern nod.

"Very well, General Patrick, you have your answer," Queen Asabel told him. "And you have your war."

VOLUME FOUR PART ONE – END