A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Verdant was about the only man that Oliver had in his employ who would not take offence for being left out of the meeting. Cormrant, of course, glowered slightly, realizing that he too was being left out. But here, Verdant's presence served another purpose – he offset the slight against Cormrant, given the position that he was in.

If a Lordling of Verdant's standing was on the same duty as he, perhaps it was no slight after all?

"It will be done, my Lord Captain," Verdant said, saluting with a fist against his chest, and a bowed head.

With Verdant in agreement, there was little Cormrant could say. He hurriedly bowed his head, though there was a clear reluctance to the movement. Oliver eyed him carefully. Elements like Cormrant could not be afforded when the odds were stacked so thoroughly against them.

…

…

Within a matter of minutes, the atmosphere of Oliver's arrival had dissolved. That excitement was replaced by discipline – or at least, it came as close to discipline as a mixed troop of men was likely to get.

Those men that had gathered to see his arrival were dispersed. Skullic's men went one way, whilst the slaves and peasants that Oliver had employed went another, a certain aimlessness in their actions, as if they didn't understand the limits of their freedom yet.

Without Nila to watch over them, they seemed even more out of it. She, after all, would be joining Oliver in the meeting tent. Judas too, Oliver had wanted there, as a presence that had fought in similarly difficult matters in the past.

But the big man himself had put a halt to that idea. "Sorry, Ser," he said, scratching his head. "I'd probably be better off with this lot. There's no telling what they'll get up to without some sort of eye on them."

"You think you can keep them under control?" Nila asked doubtfully. Clearly, the girl knew just how surprising her command over them was.

"For a short while, I should manage," Judas said evenly, not rising to Nila's playful jab.

And so it was decided. The way was cleared, and Northman showed Oliver the path to the tent that they'd had prepared for him – a tent that he was assured would be more than big enough for such a meeting.

He quickly found out that Northman hadn't exaggerated. If anything, the tent was a little too big. It was the sort of tent that a general might stay in – four times bigger even than the ten-man tents that littered the campground. Its size displayed its import. Lugging such a weighty bundle across the country was a great hassle, after all, and a privilege reserved for only the most important of men.

Oliver surveyed the space inside with surprise. They'd even begun a fire, directing its smoke towards an opening in the top of the tent.

"We wanted to get it warm before you arrived," Northman said, seeing where Oliver's gaze landed.

He made no comment on that, though he did think it to be a somewhat wasted effort. The comforts of a warm tent weren't likely to make his mission any easier. Instead, he merely nodded, and turned his attention to the large table in the middle of the tent, and the map laid across it.

"The map's one of General Skullic's," Northman informed him. "Apparently he was pretty reluctant to part with it. He made sure to get me to tell you that he wants it back, and that they'll be hell to pay if we end up losing it."

"It's a bit too big to lose," Nila said idly, remarking on its sheer size and weight. It wasn't paper, after all, but thick stained leather that could be rolled up. Oliver guessed that it was meant to keep it somewhat waterproof, for days of long campaign.

"It's more detailed than I would expect…" Oliver said, running his hand across its smooth surface. Indeed, the map seemed to be focused entirely on Newfell town and its surrounding areas to an almost worrying degree. "What's Skullic doing with such a specific map? It only really covers the Macalister lands."

Northman gave him a wry smile at that. "I'd be more surprised if Skullic didn't have the right map when it was needed. Our General is seldom caught ill-prepared. I wager he must have guessed something would happen off to the south, with old Macalister getting old."

If it was merely Skullic's foresight that they were reliant on, or whether it was luck itself, the fact remained that the map was an incredible boon. It showcased everything from streams, to river crossings, the height of different hills, and the position of the town's many sprawling buildings. It was extraordinary.

Inevitably, Oliver found himself focusing on the military encampment. There, the detail waned slightly, as was to be expected, with military encampments being so ever-evolving. Though, it did point out with a certainty just how impressive the hill that they sat on was. Both in its steepness, and its overall height.

The cartographer who'd made the map had labelled most of the surrounding hills as being 300 to 500 feet high. Whereas the hill that the military encampment sat on was over 800 feet high, and far steeper, if the rings that were meant to represent its gradient were anything to go by.

"Ah," Northman said, once again following Oliver's gaze. "Aye, I'd think you can note that the encampment is about twice that size these days. Instead of stopping on the hill's peak, it extends back to where that forest used to be."

"And the forest itself? Is that still there?" Oliver asked. There had been a ring of trees that had come decently close to the encampment. They were an avenue of attack – about the only one that there was – if Oliver wished to press it.

"Chopping back down to here," Northman said, tracing along the hillside with his finger. "They got that done within a matter of weeks. Put the whole army on it they did, then they used the extra wood to add to their encampment, and you've got something special. It seems to me that they're practically begging for someone to attack them."