A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

That was what they had seen – or at least, failed to see.

In its excitement, the Hobgoblin had underestimated its foe, as those creatures often tended to. It rushed after Verdant too eagerly, and left itself too open to a follow-up attack.

Verdant had taken the opportunity given to him, and even from his back, unable to put his hips into the strike, he'd run the creature through its sword-arm, lessening its blow, and continue straight through the back of it, puncturing a lung.

"It seems like he won…" Jorah said uncertainly, as Verdant stumbled clumsily to his feet, dusting the snow off his armour.

"He definitely won…" Kaya said, but he too sounded uncertain. Now they could all see the spearpoint sticking through the Hobgoblin's back from where it had fallen, but not a single one of them recalled when Verdant had made the strike.

"Oliver," Blackthorn said, calling him by his first name for the first time in a long while. "Would you call that improvement?" Read latest chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

"…" Oliver was unsure quite what to call it. "I suppose, at the very least, I can call it victory."

"My Lord!" Verdant called from a distance, running over in a stiff jog. He was as clumsy as a mountain when he exerted himself, every movement seeming to breathe a lack of efficiency. "My Lord! What is your verdict?"

He repeated himself as he got closer, and Oliver held his reply until he was closer still, so that he did not have to raise his voice.

"I don't know quite what to say, Verdant," Oliver said. "You're one of the clumsiest people – physically – that I've ever met. It's honestly shocking to me how you can be such a slick talker, at times, yet be this different on a battlefield."

The man's face fell. Despite being older than Oliver, he looked like a child hearing that admonishment.

"But… That's while ignoring this ridiculous power that you seem to have. I don't understand it. Did you have anything of this sort when you were younger?" Oliver asked.

"Ah, you mean before my Blessing? I do recall being competent enough against static targets, though I do not believe I was particularly strong," Verdant said.

"So, in other words, it's impossible to tell whether your freakishness is because of your Blessing, or whether it's simply serving to augment your natural talents?" Oliver said. "This is troubling… you're like a Gock in the way you need to be set up like a cannon to land your blow."

Verdant reddened – a rare sight. Oliver would never have guessed that it was possible to get a man as calm as him to blush.

"Do you… refuse me, my Lord?" He said rather delicately, barely able to keep meeting Oliver's gaze.

"I'd thought that my improvements might be to your liking… I thought that, given what we saw the last we tried this, my trouble was getting the opportunity to land a fatal blow – so I simply worked on my defences, and attempted to work on my timing and ability to look for openings, though without a partner, I cannot really say."

That explanation certainly made sense, given what they'd seen. "If that was what you'd worked on, then it would be hard to say that you've haven't improved…" Oliver said reasonably. "But you do understand that you're the heir to the Idris House, and it's more than a little disconcerting to see you get tossed through the snow several times before you have the chance to land a strike of your own."

"I will not trouble you with my death, my Lord," Verdant said. "I swear that to you, at least. I shall not be a burden on you, on these expeditions, I swear that too."

"You're too wise a man to ever be a burden," Oliver said, though his expression was troubled. "It's just… your style is far too unique for me to evaluate you easily. You truly are like a Gock. At times, I can see you being as strong as a Third Boundary man, if circumstances went your way, but at other times you would be as out of place as a common soldier."

"As out of place… as a common soldier…" Verdant took the comment like a stab to the heart. His lip trembled in a rare display of emotion. It was hard not to feel bad for him. He was the Idris heir and eldest son, but he'd never been the best warrior amongst them. He'd never really had a reason to push himself beyond his limits in that regard – now he did."

"Jorah," Verdant said, suddenly adopting the commanding voice of a noble. The boy stiffened, as did Kaya and Karesh, as though they were extensions of the young leader.

"Yes, Lord Idris?" Jorah said, as politely as he could, managing to quickly put a halt to the twitching of his eyebrow.

"Today, it was noted that you have a tremendous ability to make the most use out of men. As unconventional as Kaya's strengths are, you managed to make the best use out of them," Verdant said. "Commendable, truly commendable. I have no doubt that you'll go far off the back of it."

"Ah… yes, it did go better than planned, Lord Idris…" Jorah said hesitantly, feeling a terrible foreboding.

"Would you do me a favour, Jorah, if my Lord would permit it?" Verdant asked. "I strive not to be a burden, and though this is no doubt unconventional, I do believe that under the flag of Oliver Patrick, unconventional can at times be appraised properly. You know how to make use of men – would you make use of me as well?"

It came so out of left field that Oliver felt his legs almost go from under him. He'd always been under the impression that Verdant was the more far more level-headed of the two of them. It should have been Oliver's place, to come up with such inane suggestions. Now that he was on the receiving end of one of them, he was beginning to feel bad for all that he'd put his retainers through in the past.