A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Slowly, ever so slowly, Oliver peeled the paper back, revealing that which he had wished to see for the longest time – the curved blade of Dominus Patrick.

…

…

With Oliver armoured, and thoroughly equipped, most of his more minor preparations were well out of the way. He had his new mount, Walter, and he had the armour and weaponry to go alongside him – all without having to pay the coin cost himself, something that troubled him to a rather large degree.

So too were Oliver's men similarly equipped. Verdant assured him that he had completed his own preparations, whilst Oliver had been sure to see to it that his other retainers had been given anything extra that they needed to complete their own equipment lists.

When he had spoken to Blackthorn, she'd given him the same assurances. Now, the only thing that seemed to be left to do was to fight the battle itself – of course, though, it could never be quite that easy. There were still numerous logistical tasks to complete.

Luckily, Skullic was still in charge of the logistics of his own men until the second that Oliver took command of them. That included their food, and their upkeep, and arriving at the point that had been designated. Oliver in turn had to ensure that for his own men.

Matters of food at the like had fallen to Verdant, who insisted that logistical matters like this would be where his primary use was, and without them, he'd be a dead weight.

With it put to Oliver so passionately, he could do nothing but cede to the priest's wishes. The only other concern for him was ensuring that all his retainers managed to arrive on time. After all, the likes of Karesh and Jorah did not have horses of their own.

In order to reach their destination, they would have to take a carriage, entitling them to a significantly longer journey than Oliver and Verdant would be subjected to – a fact that meant they would be leaving on the evening before the weekend began, rather than on the following day, with Verdant, Oliver and Blackthorn.

As such, another problem had arisen, one that they would be unable to mollify – the fact of their missing hunt. Greeves had already confirmed to Oliver that he'd sold the potions, and he had the hundred gold coins that Oliver was entitled to waiting for him.

Unfortunately, though, that was an amount Oliver would have to be satisfied with, for no matter how they spun it, there simply wasn't time in the week to visit the Grand Forest before their mission.
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It was a sacrifice that they'd have to make. It was Hod's optimism that they would have to bet on, and his suggestion that with this mission they would reach a turning point. It was about the only thing Oliver could use to excuse his lack of income for that week. For income wasn't merely comfort, at the moment, it was also power.

He needed it in order to progress with building himself a force, and ensuring a degree of safety. To go without it was particularly uncomfortable.

"Might I make a suggestion?" Volguard said, once more breaking Oliver out of his revelry, as he fell into another daydream in the midst of their lesson.

"Oh, apologies, Professor," Oliver said when he realized what he was doing. He'd been once again going over matters in his head, trying to figure if he'd left anything off his list of items that needed doing.

The Professor, for once, did not wheedle him for his lack of attention. In fact, he seemed to understand it. "On this occasion, I will not press you too forcefully on it, given the situation…" Volguard said, a little soberly. "I too have the feeling that this coming mission will be a little… challenging for you."

It was about as close as the strategist would dare to come to questioning the will of the High King. Unlike a few others closer to Oliver, Volguard was capable of walking with a foot in both worlds, the cunning strategist that he was. He didn't put himself in an obvious position to make himself the High King's enemy, but nor too did he throw Oliver immediately to the dogs.

"Ah, I suppose most people have heard by now," Oliver mused.

"I would not go that far," Volguard said kindly. "Only those that sit higher up in the chain of command. No student, at least, should have heard it – unless they stand particularly close to the key players themselves."

"I see," Oliver said, offering a more dry response than he usually would – more evidence of his distracted mood.

The Professor sighed. "I will allow you to cut the lecture short, if you wish, young Patrick. Though, as I mentioned, there is one flagging bit of advice that I wish to give you, before you depart."

"Thank you, Professor," Oliver said, genuinely pleased about the fact. He hadn't wanted to say anything himself, out of respect for the man who'd put so much of his own time into teaching Oliver – far beyond what the Academy expected of him. "What is it that you wished to say?"

"I say what I do out of the hopes of your preservation," Volguard said.

"Not my victory?" Oliver asked.

The Professor shook his head. "For the young, preservation is far more important than victory. In your case, in particular, time seems to be your greatest ally, for with it, you grow stronger. You should aim to live, rather than merely to win."

"Is that your advice?" Oliver.

"No, it is not," the Professor said, looking reasonably cross. "If you'd have let me finish, you would have already had your answer."

Finally, Oliver straightened up in his seat, and made a show of sitting quietly, and obediently. The professor nodded approvingly.

"Good," Volguard said. "Well then, my single piece of advice is this, young one. Do not try to win the battle in a single day – do not force what should not be forced. Do you recall when we spoke of momentum long before, of capturing enemy castles, and when one should stop?"

"I do," Oliver replied.

"Then you ought to remember those principles. Against a far superior army, one must build something in order to defeat them. No palace was built in a day – and you will need a palace to overcome your foe."

…

…

"Wrong," Skullic said, the disappointment evident on his face, as he laid down another piece.