A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"And when Skullic gives Lord Barlow Dollem Fort, how will that change things?" Oliver asked.

Verdant raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware that such a thing was his intention – at least not a formal gifting… No doubt that should lend it a little more renown. If the fort is to be kept manned, then the kingdom's records would be updated to include it, which would inspire questions as to who took it… Very clever indeed, from the General."

"Mm," Oliver nodded. Good news though it was, it didn't satiate him entirely.

"Well, my Lord," Verdant said, rising to his feet. "I did not anticipate that I would need to use it this evening, but I do have an item that might help improve your mood. My intention had been to save it until tomorrow, so that it did not affect your rest, but alas…" He reached for the inner folds of his coat, making a show of it.

Oliver was a little irritated by the drama of it, but he said nothing. After a second, Verdant produced a sealed letter.

"A letter?" Oliver murmured. "From who?"

"From Lord Blackwell," Verdant smiled. Oliver couldn't figure out quite why he was so pleased. He guessed that the man must have an inclination of its contents. He placed it in Oliver's outstretched hand, and then retreated, leaving him his space, and ordering more tea through Thomas.

All the while, Blackthorn and her entourage waited, not knowing quite what to say. They'd remained behind after Princess Asabel had left, but they hadn't anticipated that it would be problematic to do so. Now, with Oliver seemingly unwilling to do much speaking, it invoked a spirit of restlessness in them that the boy himself did not notice.

He only looked at the letter a moment before he tore off its seal and drew it open. The parchment was as fine as one would expect from a noble sender, but given his impatient mood, he had no time to admire it.

"Dear Oliver Parick…" Oliver murmured to himself, as he began to read through this. "I hope this finds you… It is with great relief…" He sped his way through, as the Lord that mentioned the likes of the trial, and how pleased he was that it had ended properly, thanks to the efforts of Minister Hod and Princess Asabel.

He then went on to express his pride that Oliver had already ascended to the Third Boundary, far before their agreed-upon date.

Oliver glanced over the words. If he was reading it properly, it would have taken him far longer, but as kind of the Lord was to write such an endearing letter, Oliver was in no mood to properly digest it. He scanned it instead, trying to gauge its general meaning.

From what he knew of Lord Blackwell, he doubted that the man would send a letter merely to exchange pleasantries, not when he was in the middle of fighting a war.

"Lombard has advised me… times far ahead of what they… Solgrim… Ferdinand," Oliver paused, and glanced across the room towards Verdant. The priest had evidently been expecting this. Gods, how had he known, that of all things, this is what the letter would say?@@novelbin@@

Calmly, Oliver set the parchment down. It was a weighty enough bit of news that it froze even his pent-up bit of irritation. He adopted his usual measured gaze, reevaluating all who were in the room with him, confirming he was where he thought he was, and that this letter was not some mere hallucination of a thoroughly enraged mind.

"How did you know?" He asked Verdant.

The man shrugged, the mildest smile. "I simply had a feeling," he said. "The old Patrick lands are now the property of the High King. Even if you had wanted to rebuild an estate in your family's ancestral home, you would have been unable to. Now that such matters are firmly entrenched in your mind, and Lombard himself knew that, I didn't doubt that something like that might come your way?"

"Something like what?" Blackthorn asked, curious enough to raise her voice, despite feeling as though she hadn't been part of the conversation for a while.

"I don't know well enough to explain it to you yet, Lasha," Oliver said, gently, making an effort to restrain the rage that he knew shouldn't have been directed at her. "Verdant, if you would?"

"Well, of course, such a thing would merely be based on my conjecture, my Lord, since I have not read the letter myself," Verdant said, "but if you wish for me to attempt to explain regardless, I shall.

If that letter conforms to my expectations, I do believe that it has entitled you to land within a village – from what I have heard you read, I would assume that to be Solgrim – as well as charging you with the protection of that village," Verdant said.

"And how could you possibly have predicted that?" Oliver asked, as patiently as he was able to.

"Well," Verdant said. "You had made a promise with the Lord, had you not? That if you were to breach the Third Boundary before you left the Academy, then he would give you three hundred men to serve you."

Since they were within Verdant's own chambers, amongst retainers that he himself had carefully selected – only those he had an explicit reason to trust were in this room – he spoke of the Boundaries as freely as if they had been alone.

"Indeed," Oliver agreed. "That doesn't explain why he would write this letter to me now, though. Those were for men – and that was for a time far in the future, when I came of age."

"That is so," Verdant said, nodding, "but implicit within the gift of three hundred men is the gift of land. Only a landholder may lead, after all. You stayed with Captain Lombard, did you not? He no doubt holds an estate of his own, with people that he is charged with protecting?"

"I only saw his mansion, just outside of Ernest," Oliver said. "I was not aware that he was ruling over anyone, apart from his household." Enjoy new adventures at My Virtual Library Empire

"Ah, then he must be ruling over a district of Ernest itself, then," Verdant said. "Were you unaware that nobles were gifted such lands?"