A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

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Lombard was the immediate threat, however. With him right in front of them, there was no hope but for them to eventually buckle, no matter what scolding they were about to receive later. A training sergeant's temper – and in this case a Captain's – was more terrifying than any sort of formal punishment.

The man fumbled with the key in the lock of Oliver's chains, as his comrade meekly watched, as though Oliver would kill them both the second that he got up. He seemed to take far longer with that lock than was necessary. It was a full minute of jangling chains before he turned the key enough to let the lock slip. Oliver stood up before he could slide the chains off, startling the man.

The guardsman flinched heavily, and reached for his weapon. Oliver merely smiled in return.

It felt good to stand up, finally. The chains on his wrist hadn't been terribly uncomfortable, but they had been restrictive. Sitting on a stone seat for hours on end wasn't the most pleasant of experiences. Nor, particularly, was sitting through a trial that debated your death, or even coming so close to the execution itself.

As far as the conditions from the King, Oliver had no opinion, not yet. He was simply happy to be a free man. No matter what happened, in his heart, he believed if he was given time, he would always be able to gather the strength to defend himself.

"Lombard," Oliver said. "Thank you."

Lombard nodded. "It is one thing of many that I owe to you," the Captain said seriously. "Though I cannot claim this as my boon. These were the Logic Minister's actions, and those of Blackwell. I heard it let slip that you've breached the Third."

"Ah, it already travelled that far?" Oliver murmured.

"Indeed. Now seeing you, I see the truth in that," Lombard said. He waved a hand at the guardsmen, dismissing them a distance further away, so he could speak to Oliver more privately. Even with them further off, he still lowered his voice considerably. "Apologies, boy. These were Dominus' wishes, but had I known, I would not have been so quick to drop you into the fire.

I did not think… No, it was merely negligence on my part. I have too long been committed to battle, and ignorant of the most up-to-date politicking."

"I have no cause for complaint," Oliver assured him, as he felt his wrists and the marks left by the shackles. "As you know, this is a station far beyond which I desire. That it has a few drawbacks seems a given. A relief, even."

"You are the only one who would put it like that," Lombard said. "Tolsey had thought to send you warning. The man seemed more concerned by this than anyone. I see now that I have not employed a fool for a Vice-Captain."

It felt good to speak to a man who knew who Oliver was, truly. Who knew of where he'd come from. It was strange. One would expect that, since Lombard, of all the people, knew of Oliver's origin as a peasant, that he would be one of the few that treated Oliver more measuredly, with a little less respect. But it seemed to be the opposite.

Despite the difference in true station between the two, Lombard treated Oliver with an overwhelming amount of respect.

"Tolsey, eh?" Oliver thought to himself. He recalled the Vice-Captain. He'd been a good man. "Is he well?"

"Well enough," Lombard told him. "Not so well that he doesn't worry needlessly."

"He wasn't offended? When… you know?"

Lombard looked surprised at that question, surprised enough to have the emotion break his stony mask. "Offended? I don't think anyone who fought that day would have been offended. A ridiculous notion."

It still didn't make sense to Oliver. When other people looked at him, the people that respected him, it never seemed to make sense. The hatred that he'd garnered from inheriting the Patrick title, that was a far more familiar and understandable emotion, but respect… It just didn't make sense.

When there would be a rare slip in conversation and Oliver would hear how other people actually saw him, each and every time it was stunning to see how highly they valued him. He thought that he'd likely never grow used to it.

"Regardless, I do not think we have much time to speak small," Lombard said, glancing towards the Ministers, still engaged in their bitter arguments. "The weight of politics can be suffocating, even for the strong, such as your father. You are beginning to feel the strain of it now, but as you grow stronger, it will only start to suffocate you more. Greatness does not grow in a vacuum.

The tallest tree takes sunlight from the others. It invites jealousy. That is what we see blossom here today, the results of those seeds, a spreading of what people shouldn't know."

Oliver nodded gravely, but didn't interrupt. Lombard seemed like there was far more that he wanted to say.

"They know of it, people of importance, your ascension to the Third Boundary. It is not common enough news that all nobles know it, nor even all Lords, but it will soon spread. The… no, I ought not to say a name yet. You are not ready. The enemies of your father, they heard it. Not through whispers, but through observation.

If you are to grow stronger, you would do well to learn to disguise your powers, if that is at all possible," Lombard said. "It would be a boon if you could achieve it, but do not fear it."

Again, Oliver was in agreement. He didn't exactly want to flaunt his powers. He didn't need the excess attention. Being able to disguise how powerful he truly was, that was what had saved him from the assassination attempt, in the end. Not that he had truly attempted to disguise it, but the enemy had misjudged him, and the end result was the same.

"There are those that celebrate your strength, though, just as there are those who fear it. Two sides of the same coin, boy. Lord Blackwell, though you do not know him well, he celebrates your achievements as though they're from his own son. You stunned us with this quick ascension to the Third Boundary. Frightened us, even. But for that, you make an even more valuable ally.

Lord Blackwell swears to keep his promise to you. When you come of age, three hundred men will be waiting for your orders. Learn to lead before then."