A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 1051 The Sword and the Board - Part 5

1051: The Sword and the Board – Part 5

1051: The Sword and the Board – Part 5

But knowing the enemy’s intentions could only go so far, if one did not possess the means to stop them.

Besides, Oliver had his own goals, after all.

He wished for much the same as the enemy did.

To slice down their Rogue Commandant.

If there was some mechanism that could bring that Rogue Commandant to the front ranks, then he would have been loath to stop it from happening.

And indeed, that was what seemed to be occurring.

Further and further forward Commandant Amion came until he was barely a handful of steps away from battle himself.

There was the presence of a Third Boundary man, a man dangerous for it.

“Your arm, Oliver,” Claudia reminded him.

She seemed to already see the restlessness in his feet, as he reached for his sword with a hand that could not draw it.

The temptation was there.

“You’re beginning to see the true worth in battlefield strategy, do not let yourself grow impatient now.”

“What pleasure it will bring to wipe that pompous look off that fool’s face with our own blade,” Ingolsol said.

“He denies his own fear.

A pretender.

He ought to succumb to it.

His struggle is repulsive.”

“I would never look down on a man for struggle,” Oliver said.

“Struggle is the most valiant thing a man can manage.

However, I am tempted, Ingolsol.

That is the sort of manoeuvre that can shatter an army into a thousand pieces.”

“By what process do you intend to have yourself healed, then?” Claudia said, almost motherly in her concern.

“Do you think it will strengthen your army and your position to see yourself injured further?

What of those you swore victory to – of Nila, of Queen Asabel, of all Solgrim and General Skullic?

If you would see beyond this battle, you would see the worth in conserving your strength, Oliver.

You must be patient.

What would Dominus say?”

“You’ve named heavy enough names, Claudia,” Oliver said.

“And I’m quite sure Dominus would not approve.

None of them would.

But the temptation is there, it hangs.

It’s too good an idea to turn down freely.

Not without something equally good to replace it.”

“Then find that thing of equal value, through Command, or through strategy, do not be tempted by the sword so quickly,” Claudia said.

“A few seconds of pain, for a lifetime of victory,” Ingolsol said.

“A good arrangement.

Fools need to be reminded.

They give themselves false thrones.

Look at the ostentatiousness of these helmets!

The pride of men that haven’t earned it.

Crush it, boy, and let fear spread. ƒгeewebnovёl.com

No – use the fear that you’ve already sown.

You need to be closer for that.

Look in their eyes, and let it spread.

Pour oil onto that fire that Firyr began.”

“This hand…” Oliver cursed, seeing Amion’s intentions through the movement of his horse.

The man could barely hold his twitchiness back.

Oliver was content to see that he wasn’t the only one that grew restless at the temptation of a straight-on engagement.

His eyes flashed to gold, as he willed it to heal.

Of course, such will mean little.

The bones would not simply knit themselves back together on his command.

There was only so little that he could do.

His body groaned in pain, as if to remind him of all the years of service they had already given.

“Fine,” he said, though that want did not dispate even a little – if anything, it strengthened.

With a wave of Oliver’s hand, the command was finally given to Lasha Blackthorn.

She received the command with such eagerness that she ended up leaving her men a good few paces behind off the strength of a single bound.

It took her a second before her sense of responsibility caught up, and she allowed herself to slow her pace.

The battle was nearing its boiling point, Lasha could feel it.

She could see the excited look on Oliver’s face, hidden underneath a pair of eyebrows that had grown heavy from focus.

She knew where she needed to be, even without Oliver shouting it.

“Do not let the centre collapse, Lasha,” Oliver told her.

“Reform the arrowhead, and push all the way through.

We’re ending this.”

Those were the words that Lasha wished to hear – words that betrayed the trust that Oliver still held in her, and washed away any doubts.

With the smallest smile, she crashed into the back of a group of heavily armoured foes, and began to find the cracks in their armour with surgical precision, breaking apart the growing encirclement in the span of but a single move.

“Commandant…” Jericho said, betraying a hint of alarm.

He’d been watching the Patrick arrowhead tip grow increasingly isolated, and it had been hard not to grow excited by the prospect.

Even if he knew it to be a diversionary tactic, if it worked, and it secured them the head of that Firyr man, then their counterattack would have been all the more overwhelming.

“Indeed,” Amion said.

“He was keeping a few cards in reserve.

He’s seen through us… I think.

His sword is out at the least.

What does that stance mean?

Is he inviting us in, or is he tense, thinking that he might be able to last long enough for his centre to make their way forward?”

“Impossible,” Jericho said.

“We have too many men for his centre to make that much of an advance in the short time that we are away.”

“Indeed,” Amion said, his agreement light.

“And we have two Violet Commandants to watch over it.

We will not fall apart so quickly.

I doubt that we will even fall much at all.

We still outnumber them, three to one.

They are not Gods – they are merely high on their earlier victory.”

He gave a nod to the Violet Commandants that he intended to leave behind.

Both of them were good veteran men.

They wouldn’t make any amateur mistakes off mere emotion.

They knew their place was to hold and defend, and they would play that part to the last.