A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1628 - 1628: The Ripples of Victory - Part 7

"And if we hadn't, I imagine we would be in quite the deal of trouble," Karstly said, spinning the dagger that he had pointed at Blackthorn, its metal tickling the wood of the table as it went around and around. "I have heard talk of hostages, Blackwell. How do you intend to make use of them?"

That was another reason for Blackwell to scowl. Karstly always seemed to have more information than he ought to have been privy to.

"There was no mention in the letter of any hostages," General Blackthorn said. "Or are you playing favourites, Blackwell, and giving some us more information than others?"

"I can assure you, that is not the case," Blackwell said. "And it would be convenient if you would verify that matter for me, Karstly."

"Welllll, I'm sure it would be," Karstly said, as ever, choosing the most irritating stance.

"There was no mention of hostages in my letter either," Rainheart said, when no one else seemed to be offering a hand.

"Nor mine," Broadstone said. "What hostages do you speak of, Blackwell? Are they significant enough that we can truly make use of them?"

"All things in time," Blackwell said. "I had intended to come to talk of hostages later, after we had spoken of the battle itself—"

"Prince Hendrick in particular, we ought to be able to use as a jab at the Emerson faction. We could bring their entire House to heel, if we wield him properly. The King Emerson won't be so keen to lose his heir."

"He has Prince Hendrick hostage!?" Blackthorn said, rising to his feet, and slamming his hands on the table. "How in the name of all things cursed did the wretch manage to pull that off?"

Blackwell winced. "We would have gotten there, if you would have allowed me time…"

"There is General Fitzer as well," Karstly went on. "Another man of importance. Not quite as valuable as Hendrick, naturally, but we could use him to twist the hearts of those ten thousand men that still remain. Ah, now there's a question, Blackwell – how do you intend to deal with those remaining men? We had better be rid of them, before General Patrick gets ideas of his own."

"There's still that many alive?" Rainheart said, struggling to keep up.

"More than ten thousand, in fact," Colonel Willem informed the General, from behind Blackwell's right shoulder. Blackwell shot him an irritated look, as if indicating that it would have been better had he remained quiet. The Colonel meekly dipped his head in response.

"We had better send spades down their way," Karstly said, in grim jest.

"You would have a repeat of the Verna?" Broadstone said gravely. "I can not say that I am in support of that. What we did there… It still weighs on me. I am not keen to see it done again."

"No," Blackwell said. "That is not an option that we shall take."

"Oh? You'd intend to keep more than ten thousand enemy soldiers alive, as a threat, to be spawned in again, once General Patrick loses his next battle? He had what, three hundred men? How can three hundred claim to govern – even an unarmed – ten thousand, for any length of time?" General Karstly said.

"I would speak out against seeing these men killed," Queen Asabel put in, knowing herself to be speaking out of place, but feeling the need to do so anyway. She thought that, on that matter, she could trust Oliver to do the right thing, but she saw the need to see her opinion voiced, anyway.

"I will reassure all of you, that these men will not be dealt with in the same manner as we did in the Verna," Blackwell said, having to speak hurriedly, over a tide of riding voices that threatened to drown him out. "These are Stormfront men. This civil war will marr us enough already. Even if we do claim the throne, what use is it, if we fall victim to the Yarmdon or the Verna straight after? Unnecessary casualties are something best avoided."

"You're thinking that far ahead?" Queen Asabel said, impressed.

"You do not wish for a broken chair for a throne, do you, my Queen?" Blackwell said. "This is a surgery we are performing, not an annihilation. We seek to remove a rot from the Stormfront, a great corruption. We do not seek to see the Stormfront itself killed."

He gave Karstly a harsh look to compliment his words. Karstly met it with a shrug. "Naturally, in this instance, I am of the same opinion. I would not have suggested such a strategy either."

There was a deep silence after Karstly admitted that, as if to ask 'why would you say it then?'. But none raised the question, and instead seemed silently relieved that solutions were heading off in other directions instead.

"Leaving the matter of the ten thousand for a while, and the matter of hostages…" Blackwell said.

"Yes, yes, indeed. Tell us of this victory," Broadstone said. "How was it that Oliver Patrick seized the advantage, despite not making use of Ernest walls, and meeting them on the field of battle?"

"Naturally, I do not know the extent of it either, to the fullest," Blackwell said. "I only know the minor details that I was so given in the letter. That Oliver Patrick and his army of two thousand, with the reinforcements that arrived courtesy of House Yoreholder, secured his victory against the twenty-thousand strong Emerson army. I know not how he did not. Nor what trickery was involved, if any. Only that, in doing so, he now holds the hostage Hendrick and Fitzer, and that General Tussle was slain by Oliver Patrick himself during the course of the fighting."

"Blast," Rainheart said. "Is that all you can tell us?"

He'd drained the teacup sitting in his hand, and seemed on the edge of his seat, wishing to hear more.

"That is all I have, I am afraid," Blackwell said. "We can only question the young man himself, and see if we can decipher what he supposed he was thinking. For anyone to be foolish enough to take a battle on those odds… there must have been some sort of mitigating circumstances, some opportunity that we could not have seen from where we stand, on the other side of the country."