A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1806 - 1806: A Scramble for Victory - Part 1

It was a tightrope that had been walked to get there. One could argue too, that if even a single member had been missing, the results would have ended in catastrophe. Those heroic men that had held for so long – they deserved as much credit as any other, if not more. For it was off their backs that the bridge to victory was built. So too could the same be said of Nila, for putting down the substantial threat of invading cavalry with such a swiftness, when others would no doubt have struggled in her place.

For a sacrifice of eight hundred men, they had managed to secure victory over eight thousand. That they'd needed such a sacrifice at all was something that Oliver did not like – but even he, when buffeted by such a wind, could not so easily declare that they had made the wrong decision. The sense of disconnect, as if was something else that had chosen to go in other than he. It was a strong, overpowering feeling, but it made the victory that much more elating, and sobering. It didn't feed in to Oliver's arrogance, for it was not him that had snatched it, it was everyone but him. It instead made him want to get on his knees, and give thanks.

Against Tavar's trap, he had managed to secure such an overwhelming victory. So overwhelming, that Oliver did not even stop to consider the man that he had truly beaten.

"...My Lord," came the sheepish call of Tavar's attendant, when the General had been silent for a while.

"Where stands Germanicus?" Tavar asked finally.

"He prepares to engage with the five thousand Treeant troops that you have allowed him," the attendant said.

By the north wall as Tavar had kept himself for the entirety of their siege, he couldn't make out the place of those troops to the west. He could only operate on his own memory and his supposing of the battlefield. He heaved a sigh as his attendant told him that. "Which means, by now, he has already made that charge. He will not be able to resist it. We have fallen into something messy, Colonel Donkin. Something very messy indeed."

"You believe he will struggle? With five thousand men? By all accounts, General Patrick and his soldiers will be weary by now. They enacted a grand scheme, it is true, but that was a matter of surprise, and superior positioning. They can't do that against an army led by Germanicus – not head on."

"No," Tavar agreed. "You are quite right. Logically, they ought be able to do nothing. But do you not feel it, Colonel? When you pause to listen, do you not feel it?"

"...Feel what, General?"

"General Patrick has bested me," Tavar said. "In a sense, Hod too bested me. He has always had the belief in General Patrick, ever since his days at the Academy. Naturally, I saw potential in the boy too… But for this… and so soon. Not only did he sniff his way beyond my trap, he has seen it turned entirely against me. That is significant, Colonel. I believe this to be the first true loss of our siege. The momentum of it is not something that can be overturned in a single charge. Even if the men inside those walls do not understand it, they feel it. General Blackthorn certainly will understand it, and Minister Hod will not miss it. They see a road to absolute victory over us now."

"But General, we still have the superior number of men," General Donkin protested. "We outnumber them three to one. This siege is far from being over."

"We began this siege outnumbering them five to one. But you are quite right," Tavar said. "I did not say that it is over. I might have lost this engagement against General Patrick, but I do believe that I might finally be getting a measure on him. His game of one-upmanship shall soon enough be running out."

"Then you have orders to give?" Colonel Donkin asked.

"The only ones I can give. We abandon the walls, and we move to reinforce King Germanicus before he gets himself killed."

…

…

King Germanicus knew not quite how it happened. What he saw from outside the gates of Ernest was an army heaving in deep breaths after it had exerted itself entirely. It was not even standing in formation. It was just there, amidst a sea of corpses, daring to celebrate its victory.

"General! General! You reckless, mad, bastard! You mad reckless bastard!" King Germanicus could hear a particularly loud Commander shout. "When did ya start seeing so far ahead, eh? Were you tricking us? You were, weren't you! You were never that bad at strategy, were ya?"

"Quiet down, Firyr…" Judas said, pulling his arm back. "You're making us look bad, when we've only just gone and got a bloody good win."

"You shouldn't be calling your General mad either," Jorah said, correcting Firyr, though he did so good-naturedly, with a smile on his face. "Though, I don't know if it's the wrong word exactly. I wish to question you on your attentions later on, if I may, Lord Patrick. There's a grandness in execution here that I wish to understand."

"Do we not all wish to understand it, Commander Jorah?" Verdant said, smiling. "But that is the nature of great men, is it not? That they are above us, and we can only look from afar, and catch the barest glimpses of understanding."

"Damn it, all of you, you're going to have to stop that," Oliver said, quite serious in his telling off. "You're going to make my skin crawl. If you start complimenting me every time I do something reckless, you're going to run out of things to say."

"That's quite a boast!" Nila shouted down from a nearby building. "You know, you're all loud enough that I can hear you all the way from up here!"

"Thanks for your assistance, Nila!" Oliver shouted back. "You saw those horsemen dealt with?"

"I did! By Minister Hod's orders! Don't you worry, I'll be there to clean up the messes that you leave!"