A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

He'd come close to reading them once. He'd cracked both seals, and then pulled out the two letters and set them on the table, but in the end, he simply sighed and folded them away, convincing himself that there were more important things that needed his attention.

One such thing was the new cavalry, and the new troops. He spent a time of each day amongst them, observing their training, as the older men drilled them in the ways of the Patrick army.

It was interesting to see proper cavalry at work. Oliver had only ever practised with horses that he had stolen. He'd never worked with a unit of men trained for that particular purpose. Greeves had purchased this lot of men from a failing noble House that was looking to get coin whatever way it could.

It gave them a unity that they otherwise wouldn't have had, but it also made them distant and separate from the rest of the men, because they shared this allegiance that no one of the others did.

It took time to wear that down, and though Oliver hadn't succeeded in it yet, he wasn't alarmed by it. He thought that by the time they went on campaign, the men certainly wouldn't cause problems. They simply weren't as receptive to his Command as his older men were – in time, though, he was sure that would change.

"Oliverrrr," Nila shouted, searching for him. "Oliver! Everyone is gathered, as you said they should be. Where are you? They've been waiting a while already."

He was about to shout back to her when he heard her boots hit the stairs, and he knew that she'd be coming up to find him anyway.

The door to his room flung open as though a storm had come charging through. He'd been busy setting his sword into his belt when Nila found him, and she was wearing a less-than-impressed expression.

"There's so many people, Oliver! You can't make them wait," Nila said. "There must be over a thousand. People from outside the village have come to listen in."

And that was exactly why Oliver had yet to go downstairs. Indeed, he was nervous. It was an embarrassing fact, but an undeniable one. Somehow this was so much different to making a speech to his men. It felt more contrived, and he had the fact of that. He was a more spontaneous man.

He often found it hard to appreciate careful machinations.

The fact that it had grown so out of proportion too certainly wasn't helping. Oliver had given five days' notice as to his intentions to speak to the town. That had merely been because he hadn't wanted to interrupt their business, and he wanted to allow them the time they needed to make the necessary arrangements to put that business on hold.

Somehow, though, speaking to the town had transformed into 'making a speech.' There was a subtle difference between the two, but to Oliver, the weight of that difference currently weighed rather heavy.

The advance notice of his declaration certainly had not helped him. The fact that he'd given so much notice had lent credence to the idea that this 'speech' was far more important than Oliver had intended it to be.

It had turned from what should have been a fairly spontaneous talk into this grand ceremonious event – an occasion all by itself, one that the bakers and the merchants had prepared particular products for. And one that had even attracted in more visitors than the town would normally get, simply out of curiosity.

"Oliver?" Nila said, when Oliver had not responded.

Oliver had taken Jorah's statement seriously, about him being the 'heart of the village'. As a Commander now, he thought he could use his newly found ability to inspire his men to inspire some sort of morale in the village. Enough – he hoped – to keep them unified, even in his absence.

"Oliver!" Nila said, grabbing his hand. He finally looked at her, just in time to see the recognition flash over her eyes. She could feel his hand shaking. "You're nervous," she said, shocked. "You… Of all people."

"Surprised?" Oliver said.

"I shouldn't be, but I am," Nila said. "Of course, I would be nervous too, in your position… But you're always so… You always deal with everything so easily. I didn't think something like this would be enough to affect you, not anymore. You're always speaking to people."

"I thought the same," Oliver said, smiling self-deprecatingly. "I wonder what the difference is. It's ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Ridiculous would be not feeling any nervousness at all. That was the sort of ridiculous that I thought you would be but…" Nila went quiet. "This might be the wrong time to tell you this, but Lasha and Verdant have arrived, ready for your departure tomorrow."

"…They were meant to meet me there," Oliver said dryly.

"I thought so too," Nila said. "At least, I thought Lasha would… But apparently, they heard that you were to make a speech, and they both decided that they wished to listen to it. Verdant is very excited, and Lasha is… I can't tell what Lasha is."

"That certainly sounds about right," Oliver said, relaxing slightly as he felt a wry grin rise to his lips.

Nila smiled back, happy to have gotten a smile out of him. She too was well dressed for the occasion. Though she had never met Professor Yoreholder, the two dressed very much in the same style – that lithe style of a hunter. Modest, practical, but somehow stylish above all that.

Still, even with the strictness of her trousers and her boots, Nila allowed herself a flourish in her short red wool jacket, cut to match the shape of her body. It went beyond simply stylish, when one saw how well it matched her hair. It was as though she was made to wear it.

"You're dressed well," Nila commented. "Your hair is done too," she nodded to herself, as she looked him up and down. "Yup, I think even the outsiders will call you handsome, when you present yourself like this."

The timing of her comment caused Oliver to blush. He'd just been in the midst of noting her appearance, so when she did the same to him, it caught him off guard. Nila, of course, being the hunter that she was, wasn't the type to let that blush go unnoticed.