A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Why get involved with me, though?" Oliver mused. The words sounded almost bitter when he said them. He simply couldn't understand why he'd been spared a helping hand, despite having not really spoken to the Minister of Logic before. Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire

"I think he was honest in his reasons when declared them," Verdant said. "It would sound like a lie coming from any other man, but given the eccentricness of the Minister, I'm more than inclined to believe him. He simply wants to raise up the strong, because he believes it to be necessary."

"Princess Asabel too," Lady Blackthorn pointed out. "Wasn't that… strange?" She asked, stealing another glance at Oliver. She hadn't been privy to Oliver's meeting with Asabel a week before, nor – like everyone else – his encounter with her when his sickness was at its worst.

If even Oliver found it odd that she had come to his aid so strongly, no doubt an outside observer would have been thoroughly baffled.

"It was…" Oliver said. "I've put her in a difficult spot. I wonder if I can be of use to her, despite her claiming she wished for an alliance?"

"My Lord, a mere glance at your strength would tell you that," Verdant said.

"But we are not at war. Or at last, Asabel isn't. Not yet. What can I do when I'm not on the battlefield? My name is too stained to be useful. Isn't peace the time of politics?" Oliver asked.

"A sheathed sword bears just as much meaning as one in use," Verdant said. "The threat of an action is just as potent as the action itself."

"That does make sense…" Oliver agreed, because it was the foundation of his own combat style and one of the tools that he used to sense the flow for combat that he'd seen from Dominus, "but I am one man. I'm only useful in conflicts that make proper use of a single man."

"A Sword," Verdant said, "in Minister Hod's terms. That is what you would be. A Sword and a General is the very foundation of this country. Or it was."

"He thinks me to be a Sword then?" Oliver asked.

"He thinks you to be our best bet at a Sword, after the passing of both Dominus and Arthur. I'm inclined to agree with him. I think as a Sword, you would serve an immense purpose in whatever conflict Princess Asabel might find herself in, but before that, it would be better to grow your faction," Verdant said.

"Indeed…" Oliver agreed, looking over at Jorah and the other two retainers that he'd so recently hired. "To be an army worthy of any sort of consideration, we'd need at least a hundred men… thousands, even. But a hundred might be a start. A hundred of the most elite, that is something that we could aim towards."

The boys looked up, realizing that they were the subject of discussion. "We're not nearly at that level, my Lord," Jorah said, his eyebrows furrowed. "When the assassins came, I was not nearly as useful as I should have been… You all but killed all of those men yourself."

Blackthorn and her retainers – though quiet – were paying a significant amount of attention the moment the subject of conversation turned to the assassination. It was the question that they all wanted to ask, but none of them dared to, fearing that it would be inappropriate. Of course, they'd heard snippets from the trial, but how could they not want to hear it from the man in person?

On Academy grounds, after all, an armed group of men had moved to take his life.

"We… should have been able to do more," Blackthorn said, her words awkward, and her point confusing, but her sentiment more than obvious. "You've been helping me, and my end of the bargain was to help soften the impact of the Patrick name. But they came for you anyway…"

"None were to expect this," Oliver said gently. "I am rather glad that more were not there. With poison on their weapons, we could not have fought effectively, not without worry for our own. If not for Princess Asabel being so close on hand, Verdant might have been their victim."

"A fact that I shall not quickly forget," Verdant asserted heavily. "I shall not allow myself to be ignorant of poisons for much longer. The Academy is a wealth of information, after all, it would be my own weakness if I failed to educate myself on the matter.

I should have antidotes prepared for the most common of poisons, just in case… Though I think it unlikely that they will strike using such bold means again. They could not afford to, not with so many eyes already on the Academy."

"We should guard the Lord more stringently," Jorah suggested, speaking up. "We should have a man on his door in the evening, just in case."

"And what of your classes the next day?" Oliver asked. "Do not fret so much. It is unlikely that they will come again and even if they do, I shall not go down so easily. Focus on your training, Jorah. In time, I would like to be able to follow me on whatever these missions are that Skullic sends my way."

That declaration brought a change in the air, from both the force with which Oliver said it, and from its implications.

"You think they'll let us out with you..?" Jorah asked in surprise. "From the declaration, I thought it to be a target for you alone…"

"We will have it bent for our purposes," Oliver declared. "Opportunity lies here again, I can sense it. It was meant to be another pitfall, but it shall merely serve as lumber for a bridge. Build your strength and then these missions in true combat will make you even stronger, if you have the heart to take them on. I would not force you."

"I'd do it," Karesh said firmly. "I'd do it now, if you'd let me. I know it'd be more sensible to train with the goblins, and work our way up, but we're too weak as it is. We need to take risks. I'm ready to go as soon as they call you, my Lord."