A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 927: Order in Short Time - Part 4

"I suppose not, but what does it matter? The result is the same. We are back to the same position that we thought we were in. I have a handful of days left here at the Academy and in two weeks I shall be on campaign," Oliver said.

"Goodness…" Mary said. "So soon? We ought to do something before you depart."

"You've been very kind to me these years, Mary. You've done plenty already," Oliver said.

She grinned at him – a big, open, honest and unrestrained grin that was so typical of the woman that Skullic had married. She was warm-hearted. Even as a noble now, she did not shy away from expressing her true feelings. She patted him on the head. "You're a charmer, Ser Patrick. One of these days, you're going to break a woman's heart, if you haven't already."

"I would endeavour not to," Oliver said.

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Skullic sighed at their exchange.

"Yes, we know, Daemon. The plan did not unfold how you wished it to, but we see again the argument that I always make – strategy only extends so far into the world beyond the battlefield. Not everyone is a soldier to follow your orders perfectly," Mary told him. "This occasion was a personal one for Oliver. For him to have acted personally, I do not see that as a surprise."

"They dragged his family into it, Skullic," Oliver said. The man stiffened, when he heard that. "If Blackwell loses, the High King has made him declare that he's prepared to lose everything. All his lands – everything."

"Gods…" Skullic said. "As far as he reaches, he always wants more…"

"Everything?" Mary said. "He would make slaves out of the Blackwells?"

"I fear that to be exactly what he plans, my dear," Skullic said. "If he doesn't have them executed outright. Of course, he will distance himself from the acts, and declare it to be the collections of debts of begrudged investors, but they shall happen nonetheless."

"Blackwell was bold in his declaration of victory," Oliver said, clenching his fist. "I was bold too, when I declared it to Queen Asabel, but I didn't have such odds to contend with. It seems that, even after all the training I've put in, there's still a fair distance between me and a man like Blackwell."

"That's to be expected," Skullic said, as though it was obvious. "What, have your victories brought you unfounded confidence? You will discover true war on your campaign. It will be your first taste of wine – you've been getting drunk on mere grape juice. The whole flavour of the endeavour is different."

Hearing Skullic talk of war always made Oliver's heart pound. He spoke of it as something so distant from the likes of normal battle. There seemed to be a glory to it, beyond the likes of which Oliver had experienced before. An attacking war, in Skullic's eyes, that was a true war. A conqueror's war. He'd declared there was nothing sweeter than that.

"Regardless," Skullic continued. "I suppose what is simply is. The situation has not changed from the one that we predicted. At least, not drastically. The situation that Blackwell's family has been put in is a matter of a different note. Has aught changed for you, Patrick?"

Oliver clenched his fist. "Only my desire to win," he said. "I have far more reasons to win than I did before. I declared as much to Queen Asabel, and after visiting the Capital, and catching the smallest glimpse of what they are like, I want to win all the more."

The General nodded his approval, and then blanched, as if only just processing the first part of his statement. "You declared that to Queen Asabel? Did she allow you a private audience, despite her position?"

"No," Oliver replied simply. That was enough for Skullic to guess what had happened, he put a hand to his face, and heaved a deep sigh.

"If only there was less… enthusiasm to you. Some of these problems might have been avoided," Skullic said, as exasperated as Oliver had ever seen him.

"Ah, but if not for it, then many of the problems that have arrived in front of us before would have been unsolvable, would they not, General Skullic?" Verdant said, correcting him with a gentle, but rather resolute smile.

"I suppose so," Skullic admitted reluctantly. "Indeed, I do suppose so… Out there on the field, Patrick, your enthusiasm and passion shall work to your benefit. I only give you one piece of advice – do not go against your commanding General. You would be a fool to cause rifts even there, no matter what your emotions might be."

"I wouldn't do that," Oliver insisted. "Lord Blackwell is a good man, from what I have seen of him."

"Even good men present opportunities when we might disagree with them. I have a feeling you will find that to be true with Lord Blackwell as well, just as you have found it to be true with me," Skullic said. "Do not allow those disagreements to be blown out of proportion."

"…I'm not that bad, Skullic. You make me out to be a madman. I know where the line is," Oliver said.

"You know where it is, yet you continually cross it. That sounds like a sort of definition of madness to me," Skullic said, before heaving a long sigh through his nose. "In the end, though, I would suppose that I do have faith in you. These past few years have been exhausting ones with you. But they have been rewarding as well. I wish you luck out there.

Make your father – make all of us proud."

Mary smiled, as Skullic finally put forth what he had wanted to say since Oliver had walked through the door. Skullic did his best to ignore that smile, knowing that it would make it all the easier for Oliver to see through him.

Oliver's face hardened into a seriousness, and he took the well wishes for what they were. It was rare enough for Skullic to put himself out enough to wish anyone well, much less for him to do it so sincerely. "Thank you, General," Oliver said, dipping his head. "You too have been good to me these past years. Your support has been invaluable.

If you have need of me from here on out, I shall properly consider lending you my aid.