A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

As he came back, Oliver could see more ice in Captain Lombard's blue eyes than he'd ever seen before. It was a cold, restrained anger only possible for a man like him. The anger of most men burned a hot red, but Lombard's anger was the sort that would freeze a man.

Oliver caught more of Lombard's glare than he would have wished for, knowing full well that he had pushed his luck with his over enthusiastic cheering. Still, he had no regrets for it. He pretended he didn't understand, and merely glanced in the other direction, until Lombard had returned to his place, and Tolsey was left awkwardly scratching his head.

"Violet Commandants slain… There should be more of those, shouldn't there?" Karstly said, peering over Samuel's shoulder, and looking down the list that he bore. "Ah, yes, there's one. Read it aloud, Samuel."

"We have… Commander Firyr, of the Patrick forces, for the slaying of three Violet Commandants, and the wounding of a Rogue Commandant, the sum of a two hundred gold coins," Samuel said.

Just as Firyr went to raise his arms in a cheer, Samuel read out the next name on that list. "Of the same Patrick force, there is Lady Blackthorn. For two hundred and fifty golds is her reward, and her slaying included that of five Violet Commandants . Verdant Idris, of the same force, has slain three Violet Commandants for one hundred and fifty gold coins.

Kaya Hoofless, of the same force, has slain one Violet Commandant. Karesh Hoofless has slain another Violet Commandant. Both will be rewarded fifty golds for their contributions. It is believed that other Violet Commandants have been slain by other men in the same force, but we have been unable to verify those reports. We will make additional rewards present, if necessary, at a later date."

With the mention of Lady Blackthorn, there arose the cheers of the Blackthorn men under her command, and the Blackthorn men of other battalions. But then the list only continued to grow, as Verdant made his way to the front, with the likes of Kaya and Karesh.

Oliver heard a question muttered more than once that made both Kaya and Karesh flinch. "Are those two brothers? They don't look that similar." Both of them could be seen gritting their teeth each time it was said, and for each comment, they seemed to get a step further and further away from each other.

For all those names, the Patrick men continued to cheer, as they made their way to the front. The other battalions eventually went silent. The other Captains and Colonels seemed far less excited the further the Patrick list continued.

By now, the curious looks had turned into harder ones, as they looked up and down the group of Patrick men that travelled to the front, and they wondered just why it was such a small group had attained so many heads.

"Well, well," General Karstly said. "You lot have been busy, haven't you? Very good – very good indeed. Lady Blackthorn, it would seem you are as elegant in your sword as you are in your character. A crushing thing for our enemies to be slain by such beauty. Lord Idris, you as well bring much glory to the Idris name.

There was talk of your House being a simple one of coin – but it would seem that you are putting those rumours to rest. And for you three... men of the Serving Class – to be standing on this stage. It is a heartening fact indeed."

"I am no man of the Serving Class, General," Firyr said, sniffing, as he looked around for the coin that he'd been offered.

"Oh?" General Karstly raised an eyebrow, as if curious, but that very gesture confirmed to Oliver that he already knew. It was another one of Karstly's performances. He knew it would stir his men, and yet he prodded away anyway. "What are you then, Commander Firyr?"

"I'm a peasant," Firyr said.

As Karstly must have expected, there were more than a few murmurs at that announcement. Karstly himself raised his eyebrows as if he seemed shocked. "Why… That is a first… And your accent? Where exactly in the Stormfront are you from?"

'He knew all that…' Oliver grunted. 'Karstly and his damn games.'

"I ain't from the Stormfront," Firyr said, sniffing. "I'm a Syndran. Or I was."

Kaya had the good grace to give Firyr a nudge, to urge him to be quiet. The crowd was getting far too excited off the information, and Firyr was sharing far too much.

"Well… Well, would you look at that. It would seem that the Patrick forces are home to far more than just your ordinary man," Karstly said. "I wonder, are you the only peasant amongst their order? Oh! And for you to be a Commander as well – that is quite something."

"Naw, there's a few of us, General," Firyr said. The more he spoke, the more his lack of manners was shining through. It was one thing for him to speak that way around Oliver, but around a General – someone he really ought to never be interacting directly with – it was a problem.

"Soldier… Your conduct is problematic," Samuel said with a heavy frown. "You will address the General with more politeness."

"Huh? I'm just speakin' like normal," Firyr said.

"Ser," Lady Blackthorn corrected, standing in front of him. "You will address the General's attendants as Ser. Forgive him, General Karstly," she said, bowing her head to the man. "He is accomplished in the art of warfare, but he has yet to learn properly our ways."

Karstly nodded his head, his eyebrows still raised, as if still in shock. He looked over the ranks of men watching, and he saw the disgruntled look on more than a few Captain's faces, and more than a few Commanders beneath them. For a foreigner, and a peasant to hold a rank that many Stormfront men would have given an arm for – it was an insult.