A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1513 - 1513: The Unexpected - Part 4

"I still find contempt for the man who leans towards such a solution," Oliver said. "Money ought not buy goodness. Just because you have coin, and you throw it at something, doesn't simply make you a good person."

"You sound like you speak of the memory of something else, rather than what we saw in front of us," Verdant said.

"Perhaps," Oliver admitted. "Perhaps."

"Besides…" Oliver continued, spotting the tournament ground a short way off in the distance. "I am not a good man, after all."

"An amusing thought," Verdant replied.

"I stride the line too loosely to be called it," Oliver responded quickly, hearing the condescension in his retainer's voice.

"Do you suppose that makes you a worse man?" Verdant asked. "I believe it makes you a better one."

"Where's my honour in this?" Oliver asked hotly. "This is a scheme, no better than that of the High King's. Indeed, Blackwell's plan is a good one, perhaps… And I would not call him a sinister individual for enacting it. But what of me, and my part in it? Do I not dishonour myself, in giving in to these staged bouts?"

"Staged, my Lord?" Verdant said. "You speak as if these fights were scripted from the start."

"Were they not? Blackwell set them up with the intention of me winning," Oliver said.

"Ah, but these men, they knew as much, and they still accepted, with every intention of upsetting his notion," Verdant said. "It does not change the fact that your strength overwhelmed theirs, that the Lord that I serve is far more capable in single combat than either of the Generals he fought. It is not as if you had some hidden advantage that you leaned on that they were not privy to."

"Did I not?" Oliver said. "They were not allowed their Command. They were weakened."

"That might mean something, my Lord, if you were able to use Command in their place. But what did you use? You used the same thing that you used to slay Zilan. You are an individualistic man, General Patrick. That, I believe, is the only truth in the condemnation that Blackwell and Karstly have offered you in the past. You might fight alongside us, my Lord, and you might make use of us, but you have not gone all the way, as the other Generals have. You still seem to fear relying on an individual in their totality," Verdant said. "Do you not suppose that we have spent enough time alongside each other that you could try to? Even if only with one man? Command is meant to flow both ways, my Lord, but you have never let another in."

"...I have not tried to," Oliver said.

"I do not believe that to be true," Verdant said. "You surely recognize the strength in it. You would not hide from it, if you believed it was an option, given all the trouble that we have faced. I believe, my Lord, you simply fear another human being seeing the fullest extent of your heart. Or even a large fraction of it."

Oliver stopped dead where he stood, as if a cold dagger had passed through the back of his ribs.

"…What did you say Verdant?" Oliver asked.

"I do believe that you heard me, my Lord."

"And you think now was an appropriate time to say it?" Oliver asked hotly. "To insult me, right before a match that you have agreed I should be wary in?"

"I did not mean it as an insult," Verdant said. "Nor do I believe it was inappropriate. You are mistaken about the nature of these events. You believe yourself to be dishonoured in carrying out the orders that Blackwell has given you. But I say, your reaction still shows how firmly you misunderstand Command. Your mind is usually so astute. The only conclusion that I can draw is the one that I have mentioned."

"...I thought you were a wiser man than this," Oliver said, turning his back on him. "You ought not to have said that now. There is business to take care of. For all my complaints, I would not forsake my duty. I thought you were of the same opinion, Verdant – that duty comes first. I would not have expected you to threaten it."

"I do not threaten it, my Lord," Verdant said. "I said what I believe needed saying, even knowing that I would make you angry in saying it. But I shall say no more. As you say, you have a match to attend to, and I would not distract your attention with too much of anything else."

"You ought not to have distracted it in the first place," Oliver said icily.

Gar was there waiting for him in the centre of the tournament field, looking as ragged and as much like a drowned cat as he ever did. From the light rain, his wild hair was plastered against his face. His ragged clothes were blown around by the wind, making for a strangely striking figure, despite the clearly dishevelled state of him.

With a light hop, Oliver cleared the rope boundary, to join the man in the field's centre. He cast a cursory glance around the crowd, still feeling his anger at Verdant burning. He saw that Nila had found a good position at the front for herself, along with Lasha, Jorah, Kaya, and the rest of the Patrick officers. As to where Verdant had gotten to, Oliver did not know, though he supposed he might have been collecting more men, given the permission that Oliver had allowed him earlier.

'I shouldn't have been so hasty in giving a command out like that,' Oliver thought to himself. 'If Verdant is in such a state of mind, he'll jump on trouble before there is any, thereby causing it all by himself.'

There weren't nearly as many people there to watch as there had been for Oliver's duels with the Generals. The nobility, in particular, were notably absent. Blackwell and Karstly were in attendance, apparently as a sheer matter of course, but the rest of the nobles that Oliver had come to expect, with the little canopies that they saw staked into the earth, were entirely absent. Though, he supposed, the presence of Queen Asabel more than made up for them, along with a sizable number of peasants. They, at least, didn't seem deterred by the nature of Oliver's opponent. They seemed excited, even.