A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Lord Blackthorn employed his own thoughtful silence as his daughter gave that declaration, just as Idris had done before him. But Blackthorn's silence was far more intimidating, given the furious look that decorated his face.

The nobility that had been unlucky enough to find seats next to him looked pale, as they sought to distance themselves from the giant man, to whatever degree that they could, which didn't happen to be very far, given the other bodies that were pressed up so closely against them.

"Fine," he said finally. "How good a teacher was he? Have you achieved anything with the blade under his guidance?"

That was a question that Lasha answered readily. Hod did not interrupt, despite the shifting relevance to their ongoing discussion, he merely observed quietly, an intense look in his eyes. "He did. He taught me well. He showed me the weaknesses in my sword, in the Blackthorn school of swordsmanship, when I lacked the strength to properly wield it."

"He what?" Lord Blackthorn immediately stiffened. A different kind of anger, even more frightening than the first. "He showed you the weaknesses in the Blackthorn sword? Impudence! You misstep, girl!"

"No, father," Lasha said patiently, unphased by her father's rage. "You misunderstand. The weakness was not in the style itself, but in my ability to wield it as a woman. He helped me compensate for my lack of physical might."

That softened Lord Blackthorn's temper considerably. "Oh," he murmured. "I see. That makes sense. You are a woman, after all," he nodded to himself, all but repeating what his daughter had already said. The nobles around them were visibly fidgeting, likely wanting to interrupt, but Lord Blackthorn was curious now, and there were few that could stand against him.

"Like what?"

"Counterattacking," Lasha said. "Apparently I have a sense for it."

"Counterattacking…" Lord Blackthorn murmured to himself. For some reason, that fact brought a smile to his wide face, as he chewed the thought over.

"Your daughter has grown remarkably strong for one so young," Verdant put in. "I recall seeing her take part in a battle against over twenty goblins with just three other pupils, and she slew ten of them herself."

It was finally something put within a context that the nobles gathered could understand. They were not nearly as interested in the Blackthorn school of swordsmanship as Lord Blackthorn himself – but talk of goblins, they knew goblins. They were a pest to all noble estates. One of the foundations of good noble rule, learning first to deal with goblins.

Some of them likely even knew the creatures better than the common folk, and so it came as quite a surprise to hear that a mere student – a girl, at that – had managed to take on a group so large, with so few, and exert such a significant contribution.

"She did?" Blackthorn said, looking to Verdant for confirmation, apparently needing to be restated whilst he'd locked eyes with the man before he believed it.

"She did," Verdant repeated. "And quite comfortably too, might I add."

"Of course she did," Lord Blackthorn decided, with an air of satisfaction. "She is a Blackthorn, after all."
Enjoy more content from My Virtual Library Empire

It was hard to tell from Lasha's tiny smile, but that little comment seemed to bring a greater burst of pleasure than a lifetime's worth of comments possibly could. To Oliver, it seemed from that tiny smile that she was practically beaming. Her father didn't seem to notice. He didn't seem to have any sort of interest in the trial whatsoever.

Merely hearing that his daughter was doing well seemed to please him, despite how angry he'd been at her lack of obedience earlier.

It was hard to say whether he was over it or not. From his personality, Oliver concluded that he likely wasn't. He was merely strange enough to be able to set it completely from his mind now that they'd quietly agreed to discuss such matters between them later on.

"I see, well, I suppose that concludes that," Hod decided. "We see a different side of Oliver Patrick to the one commonly presented. We see a more truthful side. Both Lady Blackthorn and Verdant Idris are people of impeccable standing.

We have no reason to doubt their word – especially when, unlike many others, they have been directly involved with Oliver Patrick for an extended period of time, and yet their opinion of him is higher than anyone else's."

He let his words hang for a moment, as he allowed the crowd to draw their own conclusions from that. "I feel that we have said enough to dispel at least the character rumours about Oliver Patrick. We have no reason to doubt that he would not carry himself properly, especially whilst in the company of Verdant Idris, who happened to be there the night of the assassination, and was himself poisoned."

That brought a slight stir. They'd glossed over such a fact. The trial from the start had never been about the facts, and so when the facts came, without the strange varnish that the other Ministers had been intending to apply to them, they hit differently.

"Had help not been on hand, it would have been the would-be heir to the Idris family that perished," Hod pointedly looked at Lord Idris as he said that. "These do not seem to be friends of the Idris house, at the very least. But we do not have reason to believe that these assailants would have shown mercy to any other either.

Had Lady Blackthorn, for instance, been with Oliver Patrick that evening, it would have been unlikely that she would have avoided conflict either…"

"Alistar Hoofless and Fabian Small," Lord Blackthorn said again, with more than a hint of anger, he was clenching the scabbard that lay across his knee, and doing so with a considerable amount of anger. Hod paused, allowing the man to say more, but it seemed the fact that the Lord had spoken in the first place had been in itself a mistake. He seemed to be in his own head, fighting imaginary battles.