A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

His two knights trailed after him, eyeing Oliver as they went. He nodded to them with a false meekness, pretending to be intimidated. The old merchants followed just after them. Greeves turned away from them, as if forgetting they were there, and the three vanished into the corridor, and then out of the front door after their Lord, without anyone acknowledging their departure.

Only when they heard the clicking of the front door's latch, after one of Greeves' maids closed it, did they dare to speak.

"Messy," Greeves grunted. "I knew it would be, bringing you into matters of diplomacy."

"But the result – it is as you had wished for," Verdant said. "A bold plan, Greeves, and I must admit that I had my doubts… But I can see now what fruits it might bear in the future."

"Aye, pride is the weakness of a young man like that. I should know well enough, being forced to deal with the pride of this one," he said, gesturing to Oliver. "Yer a shit actor, Ser Patrick, it has to be said. I think you forgot your role there, and you were genuinely intending to fight him… But I suppose that only means that it works for the better."

"So? The objective was achieved, was it?" Oliver said, settling into the chair that Ferdinand had been sitting in. "The driving of a wedge between Ferdinand and the Guild."

"It was not so subtly done towards the end there, but the young Lord seems to have the intention of rising to your challenge," Greeves said. "That will make our manoeuvring easier… And in doing this in the name of competition, we can proceed more aggressively in the snatching of these merchants."

"Cunning, to be true," Verdant said. "We did not suppose Lord Blackwell would be nearly as offended as his son would be – but still, having goaded Ferdinand into doing this in the name of competition, there is little that can be said by an outsider to it all. The espousing of Lord and subject ceased towards the end there…. I dare to hope that it is not a card that Ferdinand will play again."

"Get a man angry enough, and it becomes a degree easier to direct them," Greeves said, nodding. "That's your weakness too, Ser Patrick. Be best not to forget that."

"Well. It is done. Now what? Will they not simply cease all Ernest trade to Solgrim henceforth? Is that not within Ferdinand's capacity?" Oliver asked. "Even though this is how we expected it to turn out, I cannot deny that he is wrong in his ability to crush Solgrim if he so wished.

I am far from confident that we can establish anything concrete in that time…"

"We begin trade of our own," Greeves said. "We'll have Harmon set up shop, we'll spread the word, and we'll get a weaponsmith to go along with him… And maybe you, Ser Patrick, can do something. Based on your name alone, I reckon there can be something that can happen."

"I'm open to it," Oliver said. "But what can I do?"

"You ever fancied doing a bit of teaching?" Greeves said, smiling one of his slimy smiles. "Why not? Rumour already reckons that you had a hand in seeing Lady Blackthorn raised up – her father publically acknowledged that after all. And now you're a General slayer. What better way to attract the attention of some minor nobles to the village, eh? Start up a sword school.

Make Solgrim the martial centre that you were talking about."

"…That seems too ambitious," Oliver said doubtfully. His playful smile had faded. "There's a weighty responsibility in all that… and besides, I can't imagine myself teaching anyone. It seems too contrived for it to work. A sword school, of all things? Can a man just up and decide to open one?

They need history… They're meant to have more weight to them."

"They have history – your father," Greeves said. "That's all the history you need, ain't it?"

"But who am I to call myself a teacher?" Oliver said.

"You're Oliver Patrick, the General Slayer. In your first campaign, you cut off the head of a mighty Verna General. That's more than enough, ain't it?" Greeves said.

"And you're the youngest in history to cross the Second, Third and Fourth Boundaries. To those of noble birth, and of age, who are understanding in that, they will flock here," Verdant said seriously. "If they could believe that there was a man with the knowledge enough to intentionally pierce straight through the Boundaries, they would give their hearts and livers to hear his wisdom."

"I don't know anything about this Boundary stuff… But aye, from the sounds of it, that'll work too," Greeves said.

"Don't noblemen know that already? You have your own way of breaking through the Second Boundary, by giving your young knights a measure of responsibility, some district they must protect," Oliver said.

"Each House has its own manner of doing things, indeed… But they seem more superstition than science. It does not always work, and when it fails to work, there are no other options presented to them," Verdant said. "All that is left is for one to give up."

"This is still too sudden for my liking," Oliver said. "Straight off the battlefield and campaign into something new like this? To put on a new role so quickly… It hurts my head."

"My Lord could likely do with a rest or something of the sort first, before we engage in such new ventures," Verdant said sympathetically.

"The boy – er, Ser Patrick – has been resting. He never rests this long. He needs to be doing something. Why not a sword school, eh? It'd be something. You don't need to teach there yourself, not all the time.

It might be that it helps with something," Greeves said.

Oliver swayed, nearly convinced. He recalled that Dominus had said that it was the teaching of Oliver that had allowed him to break through to the Sixth Boundary. He had never taught another student in the same capacity before, and it had finally allowed him the different perspective that he needed.

If he were to think about it in such terms… It ought to have been worthwhile, but Oliver dug in his heels, and shook his head. "No," he said. "I am not cut out to be a proper teacher." He didn't think that his sparring with Lasha, and pointing out with her weaknesses, counted as proper teaching. She had already been taught, after all.