A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 1019 - General Karstly’s Plan - Part 5

1019: General Karstly’s Plan – Part 5

1019: General Karstly’s Plan – Part 5

He wanted them to endure.

He wanted them to suffer now, early into their campaign, and he wanted them to triumph through that suffering.

“These are my men,” he murmured to himself, overlooking them all.

From the stern Colonel Gordry, to the loyal Lombard, to the reckless Patrick, they were all his.

He wanted to see them forged into something that he could rely on.

Not borrowed men, but an army of his own.

This was the very opportunity that he needed.

“Now eat,” he said to them, though none of the gathered men could hear his words.

“Here, my Lord.

We’ve been forbidden fires, so I could not warm it,” Verdant said.

“I would soften it with water, or juice, if we can find it.”

The Idris man handed Oliver a hard oat biscuit, whilst their supplies were searched for a more substantial meal.

“A warm biscuit would not have been much of an improvement,” Oliver commented.

“I am glad that you did not have an excuse to waste your time on it.

You’ve far more valuable things to be doing,” he said, as he put the biscuit to the corner of his mouth and guided it back towards his molars.

Even then, it was as difficult as a brick to bite into.

“Would that I could do more,” Verdant said regretfully.

Oliver was hiding his hand behind his back, but Verdant’s eyes still drifted towards it, as though he could see through it.

“Verdant,” Oliver warned, like a wounded dog growling at anyone that tried to touch his injury.

“I can set the bones, my Lord,” Verdant said.

“And I ought to tighten it.

You may not be able to use it, but you shouldn’t leave it so that it can worsen further.”

“I’ll manage,” Oliver replied.

“Lombard has managed.

I will do the same.”

“Lombard has had years to train his left arm.

He’s grown used to the loss of his right,” Verdant pointed out.

“Then I will have to move quickly,” Oliver said.

“My Lord…” Verdant said, searching for the words.

“Oliver,” Lasha joined in, as Oliver knew she would, to mount a two-pronged assault.

“You broke that hand protecting me.

Will you not allow me at least to tend to it?”

“I will not,” Oliver said firmly.

“…If Lady Nila was here, what would she say?” Blackthorn said.

“It is not merely your hand, Oliver.

If you are weaker, our whole force is weaker.

We can’t let your injury get any worse.”

“There’s nothing to be done for it,” Oliver said.

“It will recover by itself in time.

I will right it.

You may leave it.”

“Oliver,” Lasha said sternly.

“At least allow us to look at it properly.”

“I do not want the men to see it,” Oliver said.

“They will see it in time, my Lord,” Verdant said.

“If we were to bandage it, we could lessen their worries and say that it was a cut.

Now as it is, all that catch sight of it know how bad a state it is in.”

“The men will see if you attempt to tend to it,” Oliver said.

“Then we will borrow Amelia and Pauline’s carriage,” Blackthorn said firmly.

Her two retainers had gone to find her a meal.

She did not think that they would mind that they borrowed the carriage.

“You’re being awfully forceful about this, the two of you,” Oliver said.

“In half an hour, we will be in combat again, my Lord.

There is no time to waste.

General Karstly will wish to make use of you again, after your performance against General Khan,” Verdant said.

“What performance?

I could not even land a cut on the man,” Oliver said.

“For a student of the greatest sword in history to not even be able to land a cut… What foolish beliefs I’ve had up until now.”

Verdant sighed, a rare sigh.

“My Lord… I think you harbour a mistaken impression.”

“And what is that?” Oliver said, not able to hide the full magnitude of his irritation.

“A General that commands forty thousand men is not the same as a General that commands five hundred,” Verdant said.

“I’m sure you know this fact.”

“I know it, for it is obvious.

They have more tools at their disposal, making them stronger,” Oliver said.

“You understand the theory, at least, but there is clearly a gap there, my Lord.

I think your own competence has sowed that misunderstanding.

You encountered a man like Talon far too early in your career,” Verdant said.

“Speak, Verdant,” Oliver said.

“Before I take your words as an insult.”

“A Sword trains to kill a General, my Lord, but why is it that most Generals are no stronger than the likes of the Fourth Boundary?

Why would a Sword need to be so much stronger than them?

Would a man of a higher Boundary not always best a General of a lower boundary?”

“One would assume, if he had the strength,” Oliver said.

“I think you’ve thought the strength of a General to be a metaphorical thing.

That the true heart of a General’s strength will always lie in his ability to command and empower his men,” Verdant said.

“But you ought be aware that Command flows both ways.

You’ve heard that before, have you not?”

Oliver flinched.

Even as tired as he was, he could hear the sound of that puzzle piece falling into place.

Indeed, he had heard it once before, but he’d all but forgotten the fact, given that he had never encountered it himself.

Nor had anyone truly spoken to him of it.

They spoke of strategy, and of men, because they were Generals themselves.

Rarely did they conclude battle in hand-to-hand combat.

“These are the lessons of a Sword,” Verdant said.

“But there are so few Swords left in the Stormfront that there have been few enough to teach you.

I suppose that your father did not mention it.”

“He was unconcerned with the wars of men…” Oliver murmured.

“Command flows both ways, my Lord.

A man who commands thousands is not just strong for the fact of his power.

He is physically mightier.

His Command augments himself.

He is the heart of his army – it stands to reason that the heart ought to be far denser than anything around it.

To be able to bear that weight,” Verdant said.