A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1687 - 1687: Like a Bird - Part 4

"Yarmdon territory?" Oliver said, frowning as he considered it.

"How would you bring the meat back?" Greeves said. "Those paths are bloomin' perilous. There's a reason it's practically unheard of for any large group of Yarmdon to make a crossing over them. Especially in the heart of winter."

"But they did, didn't they?" Nila said. "Or have you forgotten? Besides. I am quite sure that I can manage. There are trails that the game use. We will follow those. We'll trust the deer and the rabbits and the wolves to know better than we, and we will follow the paths that they have set before us."

"When you put it like that, it sounds more convincing," Oliver said. "I had wanted to check on the Yarmdon border myself… I do not think it to be beyond the scope of the High King's cunning to see to it that our Yarmdon enemies are paid for the privilege of attacking us. That is something that I'd wish to see measures taken against, before it can happen. When our enemy does arrive, I would like to be sure that such an enemy is the only one that we might have."

"Will you come yourself, then?" Nila said.

"Mm," Oliver considered it. "We have a rather large number of resources now… And good men. I fear I'd be overindulging if I came with you. It seems like the most fun option available to me. But this is war. I ought not be distracted by fun. If I were to ask you to go with Professor Yoreholder, and take some of her archers with you, how would you feel?"

He was well aware by now that Nila was somewhat intimidated by Professor Yoreholder. She was a sharp-eyed woman, and rather overbearing, despite her brusque kindness. It was difficult for someone like Nila to get a proper measure of her, without feeling excessively nervous in the process.

"But she's so high-borne," Nila murmured. "She speaks so well, and she's so elegant… Next to her I look like the most clumsy little newborn deer… I can't speak to her properly. I just stumble over my words. My own men would think me a fool."

"Ha," Greeves said – and that was all he said. Just a snort of forced amusement, eliciting a quick glare from Nila, followed by a punch to his stomach.

"At least I'm not blindly in love with her, like you are!" Nila fumed, as Greeves folded over, thoroughly winded.

"You… fool!" Greeves groaned, around his lack of breath. "Don't say… stupid stuff… like that! The Minister of Blades… will cut… my damn head off!"

"And you'd deserve it," Nila said.

Oliver smiled and put a hand on Nila's head. "I trust that you won't say anything like that in front of the Minister. I fear he really would kill Greeves if you did. And Greeves – I don't see the harm in it. She is a beautiful woman, after all."

"…Don't go believing her," Greeves grumbled, pulling himself upright. "She's as feral as a fox in spring. Acts like a lady one minute, then assaults a poor man and casts all sorts of rumours around the next."

"I'll go with Professor Yoreholder if you ask me to," Nila said to Oliver. "I feel like there's a lot that I can learn from her, even if she is really intimidating. Besides, I'm sure that the hunting will be better with her Yoreholder archers."

"Then I'll send some strong men with you to help carry it back… And I'll send Gar," Oliver said.

"Gar?" Nila said.

"For protection. Just in case. If you have Gar, you should be fine with any group," Oliver said.

"But would he come? He doesn't listen to anyone but you," Nila said.

"I'll spar him for a while. He'll listen," Oliver said.

"What of the Minister himself, my Lord?" Verdant asked. "It is an honoured ally that we have been given, and I fear that we are not using him as we ought to be."

"Out of respect, Verdant," Oliver said. "He isn't a man that I should be giving commands to. He came of his own free will, he can leave if he wishes of his own free will."

"He wishes for you to use him properly," Verdant said. "Has he not said as much?"

"Not directly, no," Oliver said.

"Well – his wife did say the same, didn't she?" Verdant said. "Would you not trust her words?"

Oliver frowned. "I do not like that this man has falsely indebted himself to me out of guilt. Even if there was a favour to be owed – which there wasn't, since he never acted against me, he merely refused to stand judge at the trial – then it would already be served by now. He lost hundreds of his men fighting with us. He almost lost his own life. He dove into impossibility. The duty is done."

"I fear you will need to speak to the man directly, my Lord," Verdant said. "And soon enough. So that the two of you know where you stand."

Oliver heaved a sigh. "Your advice is wise, as always… I suppose I've put it off for far too long. I'll make time to speak with him today, and see if I can convince him to give up on this foolish guilt-ridden quest that he has forced himself on."

"It's an issue of his honour, my Lord. He would not give up so easily, and he would not thank you for attempting to force him to give up," Verdant warned. "But speak to the man yourself before you make up your mind, that is all I shall ask."

"Very well, I shall," Oliver said. "So we have Greeves going off to who knows where, looking for supplies, and we have Nila scouting the Yarmdon border for us, and hunting. What of the rest of you? You've been rather quiet, Firyr."

"…I doesn't know what to say, General," Firyr said. "You're talking of planning. Should be Jorah who's here, not me."

"Someone had to watch over the new recruits," Oliver said.

"Aye… I suppose," Firyr said. "So why am I here then? I reckon I could have watched over them just fine. But you know this planning business is nothing to do with me. If ya give me an order, somethin' to do, I'll do it. But don't be expecting me to be coming up with cunning strategies, because that ain't me."