A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1632 - 1632: Echoes in the Void - Part 2

"And now you state your place, before I need ask you as to which side you fight upon," Tavar said. "I will not join a band of traitors. I will not yield before my word. On my honour, I will see the opposition to the crown crushed, and peace restored."

"We both know well what such a peace looked like," Hod said. "It was the peace of a crippled dog, still clinging to life, unable to eat, unable to walk. It was nothing but a grotesquery. Such a peace is better shattered, so that its meat and its bones might become the nutrients for something grander. The old, beyond their time, should not cling to life. Nor should the corrupt, who know themselves to be poisoned."

"If you need say so much in declaring your intentions, you are on the wrong side," Tavar said, batting all of Hod's words aside, with a skilfulness that some, who did not know him as well as Hod, might have found surprising. "I need only state one word as to my loyalty, Minister of Logic, and that is honour."

"Then I spit the same back at you," Hod replied. "But my honour is not given to this High King, who has robbed us of so many fruits, but my honour is to the Stormfront. Where does yours lie, General?"

"To my word, freely given, from the first ruler of my House to the current," Tavar said. "Centuries of loyalty will not be shattered based on one measly whim. You will lose this war, Hod, I do declare it."

"Perhaps you are right," Hod said. "Or perhaps you aren't. If you judge the board based on conventional strategy, you would not expect to find Oliver Patrick in the position that he was in, would you?"

There was the briefest flicker of emotion on Tavar's face. An impossible smile that ran beyond the mask of rage that he wore. A conflicting cocktail of emotions. Pride, distress, rage and grief.

"Then you have heard the news, just as I have," Hod said. "You ought take pride in that. From these walls, this Academy that you governed, there has arisen a Tiger, capable of such feats. The peasantry – those that still remember the tales of old – whisper that this is the second coming of the First King. Of course, you and I know different. These are very different men."

"Indeed, we know different," Tavar. "He does not have the capacity of the First King. None do. Such rumours are spread by your hand, Minister of Logic. If I know the stench of propaganda, then every word I hear from such a direction does so promptly carry it. There might have been a victory, grand even, beyond the veil, but now it has been distorted by your influence, and none can truly say just how far Oliver Patrick went."

"It is General Patrick now," Hod replied. "I think, perhaps, we ought do him the honour of calling him that."

"Ha!" Tavar said. "And acknowledge him as an equal, off one victory? The pride would go to his head, and ruin—No, it would bolster the efforts of the enemy, the efforts of you. And so, we see strongly, just who you have thrown your lot in with, Hod. You turn against me, and you throw your weight in with the enemy. The very hand that fed you, you bite at it, knowing just how well a single swat could crush your skull. You're an arrogant man, Minister, to be sat here as you are, knowing full well I shall have you killed."

"It was a risk that I was willing to take, General," Hod said. "I do not wish to fight against you."

"No," Tavar said. "No, you wouldn't."

"You have been good to me," Hod said. "You gave me a place, where once I had none. You saw potential in me, beyond the strength that I could put in my arms. You ignored my station."

"I ought not have," Tavar said. "The peasantry know not the loyalty of the nobility. That seems clear in you, now that you have made your choices. I see now that the stigma of the past is based on fact. Stereotypes exist for a reason. You will wag your tail for whatever master that offers you food."

Even if he knew that the General's intentions were ever so slightly different to his words, Hod had to admit to himself that his smile did waver. From any other man, those words would have met nothing. They would have been received with the cold glare that Hod directed towards any that would dare to compete with him. But Tavar was not competition.

"I would express my gratitude, General," Hod said. "For what you have done for me. For how you saw me raised up."

"You have the sharpest mind that I have seen in all my life," Tavar said. "A beautiful tool, a beautiful weapon. If only you had the strength of character to go along with it. You are still weak, easily swayed, and easily corrupted. It is a great misfortune, Minister. You could have been a far grander creature than you currently are."

He stood up, and before Hod could blink, there was a sword pointed at his chest. "Corrupt you might be, but you are dangerous. Beyond even what my allies know. Beyond Blackwell, beyond Karstly, far beyond Oliver Patrick – you are our most dangerous enemy, Minister of Logic. If you are set to go against us, I ought kill you here, before you can wound us. Yours is the most dangerous mind in the kingdom – so I ask you, how far does your strategy extend? How much did you see? Did you predict this rebellion? Did you nudge it towards what it was?"

"I could not have predicted the madness of your King," Hod said, feeling the blade of the sword far too close to his ribs for his liking. "Not as quickly as it has been manifest. To see Lord Blackwell's son killed – that was a blunder of the finest sort. All the opportunity that we have, he gives to us. Will you still fight, General, even knowing that the very man you fight for is the cause of your weakness, and your adversity?"