A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 925: Order In Short Time - Part 2

"Very well," Lancelot said, turning on his heel.

"I am surprised to see him express such fondness," Verdant noted, as the man parted. "Ordinarily, he would not be able to stand the sight of you."

"Fondness?" Oliver said. "Where were you looking?"

"He definitely seemed to be in better spirits than normal…" Blackthorn said. "Though, he has always been kind to me."

"He always makes a point to be kind to women," Oliver noted. "That's one of the most irritating aspects about him."

"Phrasing, my Lord, you'll make it sound like you hate women," Verdant said.

"Not at all. I simply hate the way he presents himself so differently," Oliver said.

"If you are quite done expressing your hate," Lombard said, as their discussion was once more interrupted by the arrival of Blackwell's Captain, "I would advise your departure. And more importantly, your Lord would. Today our prudence was proven to be correct. Hod, Skullic and my Lord's predictions were well founded. We managed to get ahead of the matter, and limit the blow.

That does not change the fact that the future will be rocky for us. I am expecting much from you, Ser Patrick – even more than I was before."

"Are you paying mind the declaration that Lord Blackwell was forced to make?" Oliver asked.

"It has been at the forefront of my thoughts the instant that he was forced to say it," Lombard replied without missing a beat. "My Lord's family is as much my charge as he is. I will not see them threatened. I am counting on your unusualness to squash whatever strangeness we might encounter on the border."

"Unusualness as the counter to strangeness," Verdant said, amused. "Very good, Captain Lombard."

"I shall be counting on your assistance as well, Lord Idris. I have heard interesting things. Though you inevitably exist in your Lord's shadow, your own achievements seem noteworthy," Lombard said. "That of course goes for the daughter of my enemy as well."

"Your enemy?" Lady Blackthorn said, stiffening.

"Inevitably, the rival of my Lord shall always be my bitterest enemy," Lombard said. "But do not allow that to affect you. I shall not bring personal feelings to the battlefield. You too are an ally, and an accomplished one at that.

I would not have thought that a child could surpass the Second Boundary so young until I had met Oliver Patrick – the fact that you have managed to do the same is a subject of great intrigue to me."

The girl grew bashful. "Nila Felder has managed to do the same, at the same time. I would not call it anything special."

"Then you are mislabelling what you call special," Lombard said. "Though," he glanced at Oliver. "The fact that you both broke through at the same time is an interesting subject in and of itself."

"Hm?" Oliver said. "What's that look meant to be, Captain?"

"I shall hope that you can bring us more interesting occurrences when we are to meet on the campaign," Lombard said, dancing around the question. "Until then, I think you should follow the Lord's advice, and make your way to the Academy. You do not have long left to conclude your affairs there."

…

…

The High King's smaller-than-necessary window in which they had to conclude their Academy business proved to be just as much of a blessing as it was a curse.

For one, Oliver was at least pleased that he didn't have to worry about the order in which he tied up his business. It was basically set in stone that he had to make his way back to the Academy and collect all that he had left there.

With him, there came Blackthorn and Verdant, still borrowing Lombard's carriage. Tolsey had returned back to his Lord, grumbling under his breath about how irritating it was that the men didn't get the rewards they were due.

Apparently, even though Tolsey wasn't included amongst their number, he'd wished to see what a proper awards ceremony was like. The High King, of course, had hardly mentioned anything even in the same vein as awards. He'd made the focus Blackwell's failure, and made it clear that there was no room for awards in the event of it.

As irritating as the High King had been, the fact that they were able to predict what he planned to do had proved to be an immense boon. Had Oliver been in the Capital, and that order for a draft of students had come without him having expected it, he didn't know if he would have been able to keep a handle on his anger.

As it was, even with him keeping his distance from the High King for most of his ceremony, he'd still struggled. The way that he had treated such a distinguished military figure in Lord Blackwell was cause for immense shame. Not just for the High King, but for all the people there allowing it to happen. Oliver wasn't sure he could forgive them.

"Now now," Claudia chided. "If you were not in the position that you are in, you would not question the High King's word, would you? Before the attacks on your life, you hardly paid him a second thought, I imagine?"

"True…" Oliver said.

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"It is the same for the others. Children are taught that the High King is at the very head of the country and that he is a special man because of that. It takes an event of magnitude to break such an illusion. You do not shatter years or even decades of strong-held belief without a considerable amount of force," Claudia said.

"True enough," Ingolsol said. "But when it is shattered, the feeling of despair and that coughing up of fear – that's the sweetest moment. You find the deepest held values that a person has and then through tragedy you twi—"

"Enough, Ingolsol, your fantasies taint the vessel that you inhabit," Claudia said, talking about him.

"One day, you will pay for the times that you have interrupted me, wench," Ingolsol growled. "I have given Oliver far more strength than you have. There will come a day when my power outweighs yours by enough that I can dispose of you."