A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"I do," Oliver replied. "But I think, with your words, I have begun to trust Nila Felder. No matter how I think about it, I can not imagine her losing. Not when Queen Asabel is sending her support as well."

"Hm…" Blackthorn studied him. It was impossible to see what she saw. They all had their own ways of dealing with what had happened, and for Blackthorn, it was the mask that she had grown up wearing. It was as if she was wearing three of them now. Unless the emotion was in her voice, it was impossible to see it written on her face.

Under Rainheart, five thousand men marched, passing by the three castles that they had fought to defend. The central castle looked a pitiful thing, in the ruins that it had now fallen into, but General Blackwell had declared that it would be reconstructed soon enough. All the damages that those castles had sustained would be rectified.

And there, where they had stood their ground against the Verna counter-attack, there would be cemented the first of their permanent Stormfront outposts.

Another would be built atop the Lonely Mountain, as a grand walled fort of stone. Then the others would be in the cities that they had claimed as the knife that pierced through the very stomach of the Verna lands. These three years of peace that their victory and their savagery had bought were certain to be put to good use. But Oliver was sure that the same could be said of the Verna.

He doubted they would wait, and allow the inevitable checkmate to be delivered.

After a day of marching, Oliver was pleased to be finally rid of those plains. He had made a purposeful point to focus more on the castles that they had left behind rather than the giant rectangles of discoloured soils that had come about after the pits had been filled in. He did not wish to look at them, even as he declared that he would not forget their existence so soon.

With the end of the sandy plains, there came the first smatterings of dry grasses, surviving against the beating sun of the Verna. The dry land still marked it as Verna territory, but with each stunted tree that Oliver saw, there came the promise of the greener Stormfront lands to be found later on.

Rainheart allowed them to keep their marching slow. His grasp of order on his troops was loose. He made certain that they knew they were returning as victorious men. He allowed them to indulge in more than their share of rations, as if loosely determined to see all their supply wagons empty before the time that they returned home.

At such a leisurely pace, it took them more than a week before they returned to Pendragon territory.

They were met at the border by the Blackthorn men currently on duty, and they were received well, despite the sternness that those troops were famed for. They were welcomed through as if they were heroes. The stiffest of salutes was given to General Rainheart, and then those salutes were held, until the entirety of his five thousand strong army had passed through.

It made it clear that news of their victory had already travelled far ahead of them into the Stormfront.

Another day of marching brought them to the Asabelian Capital of Valance. Rainheart had seen his armour polished before his arrival, and he'd given over all his weapons to the guards at the gate, in order to see Queen Asabel met, so that he might pay his respects to her.

An hour later, he returned with a moderate frown. News soon enough spread that General Blackthorn and Queen Asabel were elsewhere, and it was the Pillar of Coin, Lord Idris who had received Rainheart.

"That he managed to return with only a slight frown after failing to meet with the Queen… I'd say your father did a mighty job," Oliver said to Verdant.

"More than you or I realize… Despite his appearance, I've heard that Rainheart was once famed for his temper. I doubt I could have managed to keep him from rage when he found out the detour he'd made in his journey was wasted," Verdant said. "Still, for both General Blackthorn and Queen Asabel to be gone together… I wonder if there have been matters of import in the Stormfront whilst we were gone?

Have you heard anything from your father, Lady Blackthorn?"

Lasha shook her head. "The only place that I can think them to be is Solgrim…"

"There's no chance that the two of them travelled all that distance themselves," Oliver said. "Queen Asabel's advisors are far too wise to allow for that. They will have noted the scale of the threat, and to the degree that Asabel had managed to sway them at all, they will have sent men. She's too clever in listening to her advisors to go for more than that."

"Then can we assume that trouble of a different sort is afoot?" Verdant said.

"Perhaps…" Oliver said. "It does bring a small disagreement of amusement to wonder how the High King has reacted to Blackwell's victory. Even he will not be able to play this down."

Despite it all, Oliver had to be glad that Blackwell had won, given the odds that were at stake. The High King had threatened to take everything from him if this campaign were a failure too. And despite such pressures, Blackwell had performed to a frightening degree, securing a victory of the sort that even the High King's best strategists likely would have failed to predict.

"Indeed," Verdant said. "That is a sight that I shall pay to see. Surely, there ought to be no talking out of this one? The only route left to him is to acknowledge it. But the High King that we have come to know would have great difficulty doing that."

"In time, that fool of a man shall pay for all his misdeeds in full," Oliver said. "But if Solgrim is anything less than safe, his end shall come quicker, no matter what recklessness, I might have to committed."

Both Verdant and Blackthorn were quiet as Oliver declared that. They knew there would be no talking him out of it.