A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

The girl's expression shifted, as she seized a fragment of understanding. He saw another two golden flecks of light drift towards her – the start of something new. "You're right," she said eventually. "I'll refine what I already have."

"Come then, let us finish this hunt," Oliver said.

The week that followed passed in the blink of an eye. All close to Oliver had their eyes on one thing only: the mission that would soon be coming up.

They'd shown how strong they'd become, in their short time training, and Oliver had agreed to take them all with them. Despite not having cleared that primary hurdle, it didn't change the fact that there was still much work to do before the mission itself. Everyone rushed to ensure that no stone was overturned, and each day, Oliver was surrounded by a sea of activity.

He'd exchanged another few messages with Greeves, and agreed to meet once more in Solgrim that week. With him, Oliver would bring the refined potions that Nebular had made from their previous week of hunting. Oliver could only hope that Greeves would manage to get them sold quickly, because he was beginning to worry about the state of his purse.

It wasn't that he was lacking money, it was more that he anticipated lacking it. It was the peculiar state of mind of a man that had lived his life in poverty, and more than anything feared returning to that position again. Especially as he was now. It would have been embarrassing, if he were to ever suddenly bankrupt himself.

And so it was with a particular carefulness that he was tracking his expenses. He didn't just want to make sure that he had enough money to pay for the new troops, he wanted to ensure that he had a good amount in excess, for he knew just how easily the Gods could spring a surprise on a man, and often those were surprises and problems that required money to solve.

He'd kitted out his men with the remaining armour that they needed. That had been rather cheap, comparatively. So too had he spoken with Mary, Skullic's attendant, in order to get some proper uniforms made for the lot of them. Apparently, they were to wear Patrick colours, despite them fighting under Skullic's banner. It was a somewhat confusing state of affairs.

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So too in that same week had Oliver finally been able to make up for his loss of an alchemy lesson a week before, though he'd heard nothing from the one who'd made him miss that alchemy lesson – Princess Asabel.

He still found that despite that added lesson, alchemy was as foreign to him as mathematics tended to be, and he was rather glad that he had someone as competent as Nebular on hand to see him provided for.

That week too brought one other expense that Oliver would have rather avoided – namely, the purchase of a horse. He'd thought it to be about time, given that he needed to travel across the country again to get to Solgrim, and that he would need to do the same when the day of his mission finally arrived.

That didn't do anything to negate the expenses that the purchasing of the beast had required – a rocketing sum of 20 golds, all things told.

Nelson and Verdant both had helped him choose the beast. A temperate chestnut stallion a hand or two smaller than Casper, but just as high quality.

The gold cost of 20 had included the likes of a saddle and proper stabling, and a trip to the blacksmith to have the horse's shoes refitted, which was about the only reason that Oliver didn't die from the stress of having to part with so much gold so quickly.

That week of activity was rewarded by what awaited in Solgrim for him. He was able to cover the distance in even less time than the week before, after managing another hunting trip in the morning to keep his expenses covered.

Barely, he'd managed to arrive before the sun had set, retracing the same roads that he'd ridden with the driver the week before, enduring his first long-ranged bit of riding by himself.

Whilst that long in the saddle had left him uncomfortable, it had been manageable enough, which pleaded Oliver a good deal – it was always a delight to see that training was having the effect that it was intended to have, and more of a delight still to see that mastery was not so far off.

He'd dismounted to a warm welcome, nearly as warm as the two weeks prior, but once more Greeves had waved them away, helping Oliver to disarm his saddle bags, more interested in their contents than in their weight. So interested that he hardly seemed willing to let Judas carry them.

Oliver had endured the welcomes with a fidgeting eagerness not too dissimilar to that of Blackthorn. He wanted to see, after all, what Greeves had written to him about. Already, the merchant had managed to field him twenty men – an impressive feat, and more impressive still was the way he'd described them in his letters. For two weeks of work, he seemed to have accomplished a great deal.

"Ah, best leave that to morning," Greeves had said when he brought it up. "It's too dark to really get a good look at them."

So he'd said, but Oliver didn't exactly detect any sort of eagerness in the man's tone. It was almost as if he was purposefully intending to buy as much time as possible. Despite his suspicions, there was little Oliver could do about it.

He relented, deciding to trust the merchant, at least until morning, and he instead spent the evening enjoying the company of his old friends, in that new impossibly large house that felt it felt wrong to call his own.

That week, he made sure not to oversleep, despite the excitement of the journey, and the day before. He was up by the time dawn came, ensuring that he'd have more than enough time to accomplish all he wished to do before his leaving.