A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1652 - 1652: Swirling Fires - Part 5

"A team?" Greeves frowned. "How many of the fuckers are there for it to be called a team?"

"There seemed to be about a hundred of them," Nila said, shrugging. "I suppose it makes sense to have that many when you're marching, and you have all those supplies to account for… But it came as a surprise to me as well. When I asked Oliver he said he usually just left it to Verdant, but since we've arrived in Ernest, he's left it to you… And to Volguard."

"That Lord Idris has been checking up on me," Greeves said, putting a finger in his ear for a scratch. "Are you warning me 'cos you reckon this is going to be a problem? I don't fancy meeting with the soldiery."

Nila shrugged. "Oliver seemed to think that you'd be fine. I think he trusts you far more than he ought to, especially when you're here by yourself, scheming away like some kind of poisonous fish."

"What the fuck does that even mean, girly?" Greeves said. "You've been hanging around with those nobles too much, saying stupid stuff like that. You won't be able to communicate properly with your trade partners if you start talking all fancy on them."

"Are you still giving me merchant advice, even now that I've got more stores than you?" Nila said, glaring at him.

"Yeah, yeah, you can piss off," Greeves said. "The worth of a merchant ain't on the number of stores he owns, is it? You know that already, you little shit, which is why you're saying that."

"Mayyybee," Nila shrugged. "Or maybe if you hadn't gotten into trouble with the Merchant Guild, you would have just as many stores, and I wouldn't be able to bully you on it. So maybe, it's only yourself you have to blame."

"Well, that's a problem that's solved itself now, eh?" Greeves said. "So 'maybbeee', I'll just go and buy double the number of stores that you have, eh? And we'll see who the better merchant is then?"

"I don't think it's a very good merchant that makes business decisions based on emotion," Nila said.

"I dislike you more with every passing day," Greeves said.

"That's not very nice," Nila said. "But to be serious for a moment, Greeves, prepare yourself. Oliver doesn't seem to care, but I think you should at least make an effort to appear professional. They could be coming at any minute… I think we should make a good showing. General Blackthorn is already at his wit's end complaining about the way we've set up our defences. Apparently, it's too unconventional?"

"Unconventional? What's wrong with it?" Greeves said, frowning. "It looks alright to me."

"The prisoners, mainly," Nila said. "But apparently we keep doing strange things, like, you know, not having a proper team for logistics… and just having you."

"We're getting told off for being strange, then?" Greeves said, shaking his head. "Well, that poor General is in bloody trouble, 'cos that Oliver Patrick is nothing if not strange. You'd best keep the boy calm. If he gets fired up on nothing, and picks a fight with that General for no reason, we'll all be in far more trouble than we are already. Did the General have nothing to say for our victory? Any praise?"

"He's more bothered by the fact that we didn't listen to orders…" Nila said with a wince. "I'd like to believe that deep down he has a degree of respect for it, because he's Lasha's father, and it's always hard to tell what Lasha is thinking too… But it's hard to tell."

"In other words, we're in for a bloody tough time of it," Greeves said. "Bloody brilliant. You hear that, Judas? We're back into the doghouse."

"Also, he brought five thousand peasants with him, and it's going to be up to us to feed them… Apparently," Nila said.

Before Greeves could reply, Nila's eyes widened, and she put her hand up to silence him. She stiffened, and rose up to the balls of her feet. She motioned hurriedly a warning, and Greeves turned his head, trying to interpret it.

"Eh? They're already here?" He asked, keeping his voice to a whisper. Nila nodded urgently, and Greeves pointed a finger at Judas, telling him to straighten up.

When the Blackthorn Colonel gave his knock at the door, and pushed it open, he was met with three individuals of a bearing that was almost unnaturally stiff and serious. He'd begun to say something, but he trailed off, and simply opted to stare at them instead.

"Logistics?" Greeves asked gruffly.

"…Indeed," the man replied. "Are you the merchant Greeves?"

After the Colonel, five more soldiers filed into the room. Greeves' eyebrow twitched, seeing the width of their shoulders, carrying the little writing pads that some of them were. It seemed a ridiculous sight, like giving a giant a hamster to play with.

"That is me," Greeves said. "And this is my guard, Judas. And I'm sure you've already met the Lady Felder."

"I have not," the Colonel said, dipping his head. "I am unaware of the House Felder. This shall be my first time making acquaintances with any of your kin, my Lady. I offer you greetings, as Colonel Stopdon, of General Blackthorn's logistics corps."

"Uhhm… I greet you, then, Colonel," Nila said, fighting hard to rid her voice of the nervousness that had wormed its way into her. "Mine isn't a noble House, but I thank you for your politeness regardless."

"Oh?" The Colonel's demeanor shifted in an instant, and he quickly twitched out of the bow that he'd given. "Very well, we'll get down to business. Merchant, supplies. How many have you eaten through, situated as you have been? Where do you keep your numbers filed? We will need detailed records, lest we see thousands starve."

"I've kept a few notes back in my quarters," Greeves said. "Isn't anything extensive, mind you. I can probably answer from here, if you're in a hurry – which it seems like you are, as quickly as you're skipping through the pleasantries."