A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 904: The Castle Town of Valance - Part 2

Oliver saw Lombard nodding approvingly as he looked over the place. He guessed that it wasn't just because of the state of its upkeep. He, like many, likely approved of the fact that the Queen had chosen a somewhat modest home for herself.

When their train of three carriages came to a halt, they were escorted out by rather serious-looking soldiers. They weren't hostile, not in the same sense that the main house Pendragon soldiers had been, but they were serious enough that they would have been intimidating to men that weren't of a military persuasion.

As it was, Oliver fell quietly into place. He glanced at the men, gauging the strength, but otherwise kept his eyes to himself. He supposed them to be strong enough to take care of the likes of a Queen – each one had a fierceness to him that the average soldier lacked – but still, even with nearly a hundred of them on duty guarding the gate, Oliver itched to see more of them.

He would have been set more at ease if he'd seen a Second Boundary man walking amongst them.

"It's well garrisoned, as a place close to the borders should be," Verdant said, as though reading Oliver's mind.

Oliver nodded, keeping his true emotions hidden. He knew Asabel had enough good men around her that she could keep the castle safe even from a direct attack, but the very fact that he himself felt confident in overcoming the gatemen – despite their strength – made him feel as if they were not sufficiently well defended enough.

"You've the glint of a predator in your eye," Lombard said, gripping Oliver's shoulder. "Rid yourself of that look, or you'll make these men nervous."

As quickly as Lombard had said it, the look was gone. Only then did he notice a few of the soldiers give out relieved sighs.

"Captain Lombard, Ser Patrick, Ser Tolsey, Lady Blackthorn and Lord Idris, Queen Asabel has been informed of your arrival," a Sergeant announced loudly enough that townspeople passing near the gate could overhear them. "She has instructed us to provide an audience for you immediately, if you feel up to the task."

Lombard glanced at Oliver, as if to ask his approval. Oliver shrugged. He didn't feel particularly tired from the journey on the road.

"If she is ready for us, then we will not keep her waiting," the Captain announced. "Show us to her, if you would, Sergeant."

The man saluted. "Formally, then, I welcome you all to Valance."

…

…

Oliver's booted feet clopped along tiled floors. At least this part of the castle seemed to have been constructed more with decoration in mind than function. Even then, though, that decoration was not excessive. It wouldn't have been out of place in a Lord's room in the Academy.

There were tiled mosaics of birds in flight on the floor. A veritable jungle of activity. Down its entire length, those mosaics seemed to tell a story, if the repetition of a few key birds were anything to go by.

Oliver realized the fact of the story too late, and by the time that it was over, he had no idea what it could have meant. It had begun with a bluebird high up in the branches of a tree, with a crow looking up at him, and it had ended with the bluebird's body swimming down a mountain stream, with what appeared to be the same crow letting it rush away.

Whatever the story might have been, it certainly struck Oliver as being a rather morbid one.

He allowed the guardsmen – a whole throng of them surrounded the party, numbering upwards of fifty – to lead the way, and he allowed Lombard to lead him ahead of that. Blackthorn walked by his side – the two had exchanged no more than nods since disembarking – and the pairs of retainers walked behind them.

Together, they were the very image of antisocial inquisitiveness. Their eyes were on the walls, and on the floors, evaluating thin marble pillars that served no more function other than decoration, and looking up at high vaulted ceilings, as if searching for enemy attack.

It was the sort of behaviour that made those that served them sigh, and provoked a slight shake of the head from Verdant. Just in case anyone had wondered how often they visited in the estates of other nobles – or even the palaces of Queens – their behaviour made it more than clear for anyone around them that such visits were not often.

"Oh," Blackthorn said, seeing a loose iron railing on a twisting spiral staircase that they passed. "A weapon," she said, plucking it with a snap from the stone in which it was set.

Granted, it was rusted enough to have fallen out on its own anyway, but the fact that she chose to be the one to reach out and break it… "Blackthorn," Oliver said, their mirroring ending there and then, as he looked at her stupidity. "What are you doing?"

The guards were looking their way now, seeing Blackthorn with an iron pole brandished.

She tilted her head as though it was obvious. "It is dangerous for such objects to go unnoticed before the Queen, is it not?"

"Quite right," Lombard said, smoothly stepping in. "Hand it over to the Queen's men, Lady Blackthorn. They'll see it disposed of."

In the midst of the concentrated madness that was the young Lasha Blackthorn – made increasingly worse through her years spent around other eccentrics – Lombard smoothly stepped around what otherwise would have been the source of controversy, and disarmed the situation as it was nothing more than a poorly thought out enemy attack.

A stupefied soldier was forced to take the iron pole from Blackthorn with a dip of his head, though he could be found staring at it after he'd received it, as if he didn't know quite what to do with it. Eventually, he settled on looping it through his sword belt, and continuing their march onwards.

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The silence returned, and through it, Oliver could hear the cackling of Ingolsol.

"You like that one, did you?" He muttered to the Fragment.