A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"To begin – we'll plunge straight into it, shall we? We all know why we are gathered. We are the advance force. I'm sure you know our intentions. The Verna forces are marching this way. It will only be a matter of days before they arrive.

It is our objective to punch through their marching line before they do," General Karstly said. "It is that simple. I wonder, are there any questions?"

A hand as thick as a bear paw immediately drifted into the air. Oliver recognized the uniform of a Blackthorn man immediately.

"Yes, Colonel?" General Karstly said.

"Why?" The man responded bluntly. "For what reason are we attempting to punch through their line with a mere five thousand men?"

"Ah! Now that is indeed a good question. Right to the heart of the matter, indeed," General Karstly said. It was ever so strange for Oliver to watch him. He spoke to his lessers like he was subordinate to them, like they were the General, and he was the soldier. It made him frown to see.

"Well, I shall admit that it was a question that I asked myself. It seems a bold move, but it is one built off all the work General Blackwell has put into building victory these past three years. Indeed, you might say that this is a move that took three years for him to build."

Lombard nodded resolutely at General Karstly's display of respect.

"There is a particular geographical feature that we are aiming for. I am sure the Verna have a name for the place, but I know it not. I've never been very good at foreign languages, so I've given up in that regard. There is a broad section of complete wildness, just to the south of us. It's a mountainous region. The geographers tell me that it is an offshoot of the Black Mountains.

They speculate that it was once joined in the original mountain range, but now it is left isolated by itself, in the middle of Verna territory," General Karstly said. "Given the mountainous terrain, the Verna have left it wild. With dense coniferous forest, it's much like the Black Mountains that you all know. That is our objective. Any further questions?"

The same Blackthorn man slowly put his hand back up into the air.

"Yes, Colonel?" General Karstly said, as patient as ever.

"Why?" The Blackthorn man asked again, not even trying to phrase his question differently. He was as blunt as the Black Mountains themselves. It was with great effort that General Karstly managed to maintain his smile.

"You see, amongst those mountains and forests, even a force of five thousand could hold off a far greater number," Karstly replied. "It is the immediate snatching of a vantage point. The mountains will be a station from which we can launch future attacks. It is a natural fort."

"…What if they just ignore us?" The Blackthorn man continued, scratching at his cheek. "They don't have to hunt us down."

"Indeed," Karstly said, his eyes twinkling slightly, even his aura shifted. "That, my friends, is the genius behind our Commanding General's plan. They are forced to make siege on us. How would those sieging forces fair, knowing that they constantly had to worry about an attack from the rear?"

The tent stirred as one, finally understanding. "Now, you feel its strength," Karstly said excitedly. He very much seemed different now in his excitement. There was hunger in those eyes. "That position that Lord Blackwell aims for – it is as good as checkmate."

He let that declaration ring in the air. The men now understood the significance. Even Oliver could feel his heart stirring. This was very much the power of strategy. He glanced to his left, and saw that Lombard was swelling with a fierce pride that he was finding difficult to contain.

"For all of you with doubts about what Lord Blackwell has achieved out here these past few years, I present that," General Karstly said. "I have viewed this battlefield from afar, through reports, and it is my honour to be a part of it. Do not be mistaken. What Lord Blackwell has achieved here with so few men is a masterpiece."

The men looked considerably brighter. The whole atmosphere of the tent had changed in an instant. There was truth to Karstly, he thought. It was an odd way of evaluating a man, but that was what Oliver felt from him. His odd grasp of Command – it seemed to be a wielding of his personality. His strange friendliness only increased the magnitude of his intensity when he needed to make a point.

Even the Blackthorn men could not deny the emotion rising to their faces.

"However," General Karstly held a finger in the air. "However," he said again. "This is an operation of the most delicate sort. That ideal position that Lord Blackwell seeks, that he has laid the groundwork for – it will not be easily achieved. He acknowledges that, but he grasps for it anyway, and it is us men that must make his grasping into something firmer.

We must make it past fifty thousand men, chariots, cavalry and all the like. We must do it, knowing full well that more than three-quarters of our fighting strength is infantry, and that the distance between us and those mountains is far from comfortable."

"What General Blackwell demands from us, my friends, is a miracle, and it is exactly that which we will aim to deliver. He has put all of his most furious forward fighters in one place, and we must use that fury to carve a hole in a brick wall of fifty thousand Verna – and that's the easy part.

The hard part will be surviving long enough afterwards that we can make it to the sanctuary of the forest," General Karstly said.

Now, Oliver was stirring a little too. General Karstly had laid it out better than he could have hoped. Blackwell had told him what he wanted Oliver to achieve, but General Karstly had shown him the significance of those achievements. This morning, he had repeatedly said 'I do not know,' but now he was feeling replete with a certain level of understanding. A low throbbing confidence arose in him.