A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1663 - 1663: The Counter Assault - Part 4

Germanicus, it appeared, was unarmed. There were no weapons on the belt across his midsection. He'd come to them only with his bare hands, the loose-fitting shirt that he wore, and a long kilt over his giant hairy legs, and yet, Tavar had no doubt that if it did come to blows, all three of them together would have been no match for him. He was a creature entirely out of this realm, and with a great amount of horror, Tavar was forced to realize just how much stronger Germanicus had become.

"…Where is your crown, King Germanicus?" Tavar asked instead. Germanicus' long braided brown hair sat empty. There were beads in the braids of his beard, but that seemed to be as close to jewellery that he came.

"Annoying," Germanicus said, by way of explanation, messing up his hair with his giant hands at the thought of it, he pulled himself back outside the door, and growled. "This is annoying too. Talking to you through the door. Outside. We speak here."

It was a brief flash of Command, brought about by irritation, but that too told Tavar more than anyone else could have. He felt a chill as he stood, and it was not merely from the outside air. 'He's a monster as well,' he murmured to himself. 'Of a very different sort to your Oliver Patrick, my good man Dominus. And I will be forced to make use of him to his fullest. Do forgive me.'.

For a man that pursued strength and individual combat prowess as Germanicus undoubtedly did, and for a man that so loathed the position of leadership that he had been given, Germanicus undoubtedly had a talent for commanding. He had all three of them stood outside in the open, under the clear night's sky, by a single irritated grumbling.

He realized not what he had done, or even how effective it had been. But Justus and the Chief Strategist understood – Tavar could see that in the glances that they shared, and the smile that the Chief Strategist wore. It was the look of a man that had been given an exceptionally powerful piece, exactly when he needed it.

Germanicus' command was of the most natural sort. It was the command of the wild, a command that the creatures of the forest yield to the natural hierarchy. That those creatures beneath it should obey it, and flee when it grew rowdy.

Outside in the open air, under that cold winter sky – though snow had yet to fall in the Capital – they attempted to bring a rather disinterested Germanicus up to date on the current war situation. For how thin the layers that he wore were, he didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the air that was cold enough to make their breath fog in it.

"Blackwell, and Blackthorn too?" Germanicus said. "Good… Good. Strong enemies. I will fight them too."

"At this rate, you will have to travel half the length of the country every single day," the Chief Strategist remarked dryly.

Germanicus gave him a look. "Can I?" He said.

"…It would be difficult," the Chief Strategist was forced to say, after coming to realize the General was not one for jokes.

"Especially for a man like him," came the third comment, dangerously put.

The stirring fury from the new King of the Treeants was an instantaneous thing. He rounded on the voice, his fist already drawn, only to be met with a laugh by way of response.

"You can throw your punches, King of the Treeants, but they will not have the effect that you desire," came the reply from a nearby door, as a man of intense beauty, with white hair as long as his waist, sat drinking from a silver teacup.

"…Tiberius," Tavar said, recognizing him in an instant. He was ever a distinctive man, even as a youth. "How long have you been there for?"

"Long enough to know how much time you have wasted, and to remark at how pointless it was for you to be holding your meeting in these dingy little huts. Did you not even bother to check the surrounding ones before you went inside?" Tiberius said.

"You ask that knowing full well that we did," Blake said, recognizing a trick as he narrowed his eyes at the man. "You only arrived a short while ago, did you not? Was it worth all the elaborate effort it took in attempting to make us look like fools?"

Tiberius laughed. "Yes. Yes, indeed it was. For you indeed do look like fools, do they not, good King Wyndon?"

"…They certainly appear diminished, good Emperor," King Wyndon said from behind him, holding a silver teapot to match the silver cup that Tiberius was drinking from.

"I see you've already managed to reduce your King to the rank of servant, Tiberius," the Chief Strategist said.

"Oh?" Tiberius said. "Is that how it appears to you? I would dare to say that isn't the case. For after all, is it not a position of honour to serve your Emperor? I would have thought that you would have felt the same about this man that you call the High King."

"I see no Emperor. I see a man with ambitions beyond his station," the Chief Strategist said.

"Ah, but you are old, and your eyesight is failing," Tiberius said, a dangerous edge to his voice. "Perhaps if you wished for something from me, you ought to see things more clearly, and address me more appropriately."

"You have arrived," Tavar said, weighing in before it could grow any more heated. "And now that you are here, we can begin our counter-strategy."

"I have not finished making my point, Tavar," Tiberius said. "You, too, address me inappropriately."

"He is to be Commanding General on this campaign. You address him inappropriately, Tiberius," the Chief Strategist said.

"You've made a handful of mistakes already," Tiberius said icily. "I thought you were the Chief of Strategy? Can you be allowed to make such blunders? I have come here to win your war for you. You ought be kneeling at my feet, and thanking me for my generosity."

"…Who are you to speak as you do?" King Germanicus said.