A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

"Haha," she giggled triumphantly. "Nervous, and embarrassed," she said, pulling on his cheek. "You're all sorts of charming today, Ser Patrick. If you make your speech anything like you are now, I'm sure you'll do just fine."

Nila's way of speaking had been gradually changing as she too spent more time around nobles. She seemed to see some sort of advantage in imitating their speech to the best of her abilities. So too, though, did she simply use it as a tool to tease Oliver at times.

At the very least, even as Oliver quibbled, he could tell that he was more relaxed. Nila seized on that fact, before he could turn around for a counterattack.

"Come, Oliver. You've calmed," she said. "There is no need to think. Simply do as you always do. You will be quite fine."

She pulled him by the hand towards the door. Oliver certainly felt that he had more strength in his legs than he had when he was putting his sword belt on, but something about Nila having the advantage over him didn't quite sit right.

He placed a hand on her head before she could cross the doorframe. She was a head shorter than him – not that Oliver was a tall man – and it was a trick that he enjoyed employing to make her face him. She groaned at the familiar sensation, and prepared a stinging remark to hit him with, but Oliver got there a step earlier.

"You've changed, little Nila," he told her. "The way you've come dressed today – you seem a rather beautiful woman."

She blushed. They each knew each other's limits just enough to know when the other would crumble enough to get embarrassed. Oliver grinned, scoring the point back, and he strode past her, ignoring her shouts of dismay.

Oliver had seen the crowds of gathered people from his window, but it was only upon exiting the door of his house that he could properly get a grasp for the magnitude of them. The market square felt tiny, with so many people attempting to cram inside of it. And indeed, not all of them could.

The crowds ran back down the roads, and in between the houses, as so many people tried to get as close as they possibly could.

"You're here," Greeves grunted. "My Lord," he added hastily, seeing Verdant out of the corner of his eye with his jaw tight. "They're waiting for you."

It would be a stretch to say that a platform had been prepared for Oliver's speech. It was nothing so grand as that, for Oliver had reassured Greeves time and time over that it was not something to make a big deal over. Nonetheless, there were two pallets of wood, with some planks over the top of them. Enough to raise him up, so that more people could see him.

"We ought to have secured something grander," Verdant said with regret, evaluating the platform with a critical eye.

"An excess of grandness would be a lie coming from me," Oliver replied. It was the last comment he made, before leaping straight atop the pallets in a single swift and athletic bound. He knew that he needed to do it with haste, even if it meant it made his entrance clumsy. He knew an excess of ceremony would have only made him more nervous.

Even without a warning of his entrance, it only took a matter of seconds before the crowd noticed him, and they were silenced.

Oliver knew he ought to wait a second more, if he wanted to ensure that his first words were heard, but using his knowledge of the battlefield, he used his momentum to slay the returning nervousness before it could take over him properly. He began to speak, saying the first thing that came into his head.

"Tomorrow, I shall be going to war," he announced.

He was surprised to hear his voice echo around the village. He felt as if he was suddenly in a valley. He wondered if it was because of the high wooden walls that had been erected to surround the place.

"I am sure you know of it already. Lord Blackwell of Ernest will be leading twenty thousand men to the Verna borders, with the aim of expanding Stormfront territory, through the conquering of castles," Oliver said. "I was offered the opportunity to join him, and it is an opportunity that I am excited to take."

"No doubt, you will understand why I have hired new soldiers, to replace those that I am taking with me. You can rest assured, that these walls will stay protected. In my absence, Nila Felder shall see to my interests, supported by Greeves Golfingle and Judas."

He gestured to them, and then it was suddenly their turn to grow nervous, as a thousand heads flickered towards them all at once. It was amusing to see. Oliver was relaxed enough to recognize that amusement in himself. Now that he had begun speaking, the thoughts of nervousness were far away.

"There is much that we aim to accomplish, even with my absence," Oliver said. "I would see Solgrim continue to grow. We have achieved much these past years. From the ashes, we have ushered in an age of prosperity of the likes that we could never have dreamed of. To be so secure, here, where we hardly saw so much as a visitor before – that is a thing to be proud of. And indeed, I am proud of it."

"I have heard some amongst you say that is my achievement, that it is Oliver Patrick that has allowed this to happen. I disagree. If I were to be sent to any other village, I do not believe this would have happened. Even if I were sent to an estate, ruling over Serving Class men, I doubt that the results wrought would be anything like what we have achieved here."

"I say that with certainty, for no village has endured what this village has. There is no village like Solgrim. You have three hundred soldiers – nay, six hundred now – in the village, guarding its walls, but the number of warriors we have amongst us far exceeds that."