A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1776 - 1776: Demands of the Wind - Part 1

"Your ploy my Lord has won us the day," Verdant said. "You stole away from your men and crossed through Ernest alone, did you not?"

"I did," Oliver admitted, truly embarrassed by now.

"That is a strategy that none could hope to imitate from you. Hod could not do the same," Verdant said. "This is what he asked of you. The Minister shall be pleased, I am sure of it."

"If they have the same reaction as you, then everyone else has gone mad, I tell you," Oliver said. "How am I meant to trust you as my retainer when you encourage me to be as stupid as I have been?"

"The same way I trust in you, my Lord, when I see such stupidity create such glorious solutions," Verdant said. "I can see your next line my Lord - you wish to declare it to be merely luck. But I refuse to hear it. One can not be lucky so many times."

"...If you can predict my next move just in conversation, then what chance do I have of remaining unpredictable to my foes?" Oliver complained. "We'll continue this later. I need to head towards the southern wall, and see it properly stabilized. If I dally here too long, Tavar's pushing will see the death of us."

For the first time since the battle had begun, there was a true frown on Tavar's face. He watched Germanicus limp away from the bottom of the ladder that he had descended, and wondered why it was that a man of such strength could possibly be so wounded.

He had played the battle carefully, in his usual way, from the very start. Tavar was a man that feared not losses. He had the calm heart to accept all that came his way. Yet the loss on this day was not one his heart was ready for. Not when they'd had such a strangle hold on the enemy - and for them to lose so overwhelmingly.

Hod he'd marked as his enemy in strategy, yet, was it not Oliver Patrick and his strangeness that had brought them low? Was it strategy that did that to them, or something else?

Once more, over Germanicus, there was achieved that victory. Through it, Hod had no trouble in securing the deaths of a further five thousand men. For all the fighting they'd been doing, over so many days and weeks, the casualties seemed to be adding up in the favour of the defending army. Seventy thousand they were left with, and Hod had the count of the defending men at being at twelve thousand still.

It was enough to bring about a wave of excitement. To have secured the day not once, but twice in a row. For the Germanicus that they had so feared to be checked immediately in the fashion that he had. It went beyond just exciting the men. It excited the officers as well, and it seemed to have excited Hod too.

The Minister was filled with approval, but it was moderately given. There was a grimness about him as he gave his praise, and he warned them more than once, that Tavar would not allow them such victories so easily, and now that they had played the hand of Oliver Patrick and found certainty in the strength that he could bring their forces, Tavar would respond accordingly, and he would look for a way to match it.

As they held their counsel of war, in the old Blackwell rooms, seated at a long table that ought to have been filled with food and dinner guests, rather than covered with an all too detailed map of Ernest and the surrounding lands, along with the placement that they'd seen of the armies during the day.

"We have two Generals now," Hod declared. "We can trust General Patrick to place Germanicus in check, as long as he has free enough movement to reach him."

So he said, but Oliver didn't think that entirely to be the case. In a face off, just the two of them, Germanicus was still certain to win. Oliver knew not what gave him victory, but it was not his own hand, and if he could not control it, how could he trust it? How could he sit back and allow the lives of his men to be gambled upon it.

He listened through the meeting, keeping a mild look on his face, offering very little, even when it was asked of him. The officers took no offence at that, nor did the Generals. They even had praise for it, as if interpreting it as humbleness. That he could wound Germanicus and still sit then, and nod when he was given orders from Hod and Blackthorn.

"These day-to-day victories are all very well and good, Minister, but we must have total control of the field if we are to call the job done. We must either scatter their army or claim Tavar's head. For as long as they hold us in siege, it is they that are winning," Blackthorn said.

"You are not wrong, General," Hod said with a frown. "It isn't as if we have the liberty of taking our time. Time firmly sits with Tavar. Tiberius still has not shown his next move, and we ought be eternally wary of it. Yet – there is good news for us regardless. The Pendragon lands are falling in line with our Queen Asabel. Blackwell writes that order is being restored with an unexpected swiftness – the Queen has taken care of matters herself."

"Then we look for an opportunity, and we ride out and face them. We let him commit his men to the walls, then we see the gates opened, and in a single all out attack, how could he stop us?" Blackthorn declared, slamming his fist on the table. "Myself alone – if you could provide the opportunity, Minister, with your strategy. If you can tie him up so that he can not turn away the attack, I could pierce through him alone. And yet, we still have him," he said, pointing at Oliver. "He can be trusted to bear a weight in it. If we lead an attack together, how could any defence hold? Germanicus is not a defender. He's a brawler. He will not be able to rally men that have been hit with proper pointed iron."