A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1899 - 1899: After Victory - Part 2

Even in saying that, the praise was not forthcoming. The man's emotions were not distinctly positive. After all, to bring about their victory and their current circumstance, he had needed to order the killing of the very man that he owed more to than anyone in the world. Realizing that, and being forced to think upon the same thing, Oliver's own smile was quick towards fading.

With a clenched fist, however, he brought it back. He vowed that, while there was still work to be done, he would not allow himself to fall into that dangerous void. He knew what that was like, and just how deep he was known to dive. Deep enough, that surprising even himself, he'd sent a dagger through his own hand. He couldn't afford to slip that far down – not yet. He certainly would not see that burden put upon Nila.

"Then, if there is work to be done, let us divide it up," Oliver said. "I for one am intent on moving further. I wish to fight alongside Blackwell, and ensure the safe escort of Queen Asabel."

"We are all but forced to send you, given your agreement with Prince Hendrick. He shall be far more likely to stick to it with you there as a constant reminder of the word that was given. And if they do rebel, they will have in front of them the man that defeated them once already."

"I doubt they will break their word," Oliver said. "Hendrick seems to hold to honour highly. He wouldn't be quick to toss that away for small advantage."

"Not without a prodding from Tiberius," Hod said.

"There we are, then," Blackthorn said. "Patrick's five thousand, and the Emerson ten thousand, they're marching West, are they? Then I'd go with them. I'd like to fight against this Tiberius myself, and see the war done with my own eyes. We should abandon Ernest to a mere thousand or so men, and march with our fullest strength, and crush him under the weight of a hammer – give it certainty, make sure it's done."

"That is the very sort of manoeuvre that Tiberius is likely to turn against us, just as he took the Skreen out from under Skullic and Karstly, given their misplacement," Hod said. "The positioning of his armies are ever unpredictable. If we present a weakness, he will take advantage of it. At minimum, I would have ten thousand men defend Ernest – that is a number that will at the very least last a day."

"Pah, it depends who you put in command of them, ten thousand men under an amateur would be—" Blackthorn came to a halt when he noted Hod's pointed gaze. "You bastard. You're not forcing this onto me, are you?"

"Do your duty, Blackthorn. What better man is there for the job?" Hod said. "With Ernest in your hands, we can be sure of its defensive might. If the Minister of Blades agrees, I would have him and his Lady wife stay too. The city is in sore need of men of station, to see it properly commanded in civil matters, when the time comes to reallow entry to the populace."

"You'll be sure that I won't get a chance to see the war end, that's what you'll be sure of. You're robbing me of its glory," Blackthorn said.

"You have had glory enough this day," Hod said, nearly angry, his voice raised. He pointed out the man that had seen Tavar slain – that great General, held above all the rest. "You need none further."

"…" There was little Blackthorn could say to that. The very fact that it was his blade that had managed to do the deed was what had him in such a good mood in the first place. Even if it was Tavar, a man that he had respected, and held to be an ally, it was the man's strength that he'd held as more important. And beating such a man of strength meant a great deal to the likes of him.

"Besides," Hod said. "Our role will only be in that of support. We will seek to contain Tiberius. You, clearly, have other ideas. You would see the man charged head on. Alas, this is not our battle. General Blackwell already has his plans – we will be best placed in supporting them, rather than forcing him to write those plans anew."

"Yes, yes, you've convinced me," Blackthorn said, rather childish in the way that he waved his hand. "Say no more of it. You march east with twenty-five thousand men, then – I'll leave it to you to see this war concluded. If you bungle it, despite the advantage that you have, I'll kill you myself."

He gave that warning to both Oliver and to Hod. "We shall do our best," Oliver said. "Too many good men have died in the fighting for us to treat it lightly. We shall carry out our duty, and see for a certainty that it is concluded."

"Fifteen thousand fighting men," Hod too corrected as he stood. "The Emersons will only exist in a defensive capacity."

"Yes, yes," Blackthorn said, waving them away.

It was an attitude he carried right up to the next morning, when those men were readying themselves for a quick dispatch.

"Forgive me, gentlemen, to ask this of you," Oliver said, speaking to his men, as they readied themselves at the gate. "Weeks we have been fighting already, and if you include our battle with the Emersons, it's longer still. You ought to have been given due time to rest. Alas, we are forced to move for good reason. The conclusion to this war finally presents itself. One final enemy stands in our way, with the name of Tiberius. We have worked hard to secure the advantage that we currently hold, and we shall move swiftly, to ensure that advantage is properly exercised."

"All the way, eh?" Firyr said, with a certain amount of irony, as he looked to the men around him for agreement. "Bloody won this war by our own swords, haven't we? All the bloody way – they better reward us well for this."

There were a few murmurs of agreement that came along with him, before more sensible men intervened. "Firyr, I would not say that aloud, when there are Blackthorn soldiers well within earshot," Jorah said.