A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 843: Building Back - Part 2

"A great number of men will no doubt die by such means, but perhaps, a daring man, might be able to accomplish more," Verdant said. "Suppose that we assume our troops to be capable of more daring than the average army, might that change how we approach it?"

It seemed a fairly innocuous question, and had anyone else made the suggestion, as tired as Oliver was, he would have hardly considered it. He would have thought it to be a comment made when one could think of nothing better to say. Verdant, however, rarely said such things. "More daring…"

Oliver tapped his finger on the table, considering what he might be able to achieve if he asked for more daring from his men. They were already taking a risk, in pushing a battering ram despite the hill. There was little that could be more daring than that. Unless…

"We have unused oil," Oliver said. It was no doubt a lesser amount than what the enemy had, given the limited nature of their supplies, but the fact remained, that they did have oil.

The problem was, they would never be able to deliver an amount of oil in significant enough quantities for it to be of any use against the likes of that thick gate, or those thick walls, all of which were treated to make them as flame resistant as possible.

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"I do recall that a cart, or a carriage, might have a good deal of space on," Verdant said.

"And they’re inclined to set it on fire regardless, with their own sort of oil…" Oliver said, suddenly seeing the dots connect together. "One blow is all we get. There’s no worth in saving it. Say we delivered all the oil we had to the gate, the chances of us weakening it, or even breaking through it by flame alone, they’re rather high."

"As expected of you, my Lord. Does that put the finishing touches on your plan?" Verdant said.

"It is your plan, at this point, Verdant," Oliver said. "You saw it long before I did."

"Not all. I had no plan at all in mind. I simply pointed out something that I was quite sure was limiting you," Verdant said. "It seems I was right, in that. You’ve a weakness there, my Lord, if you’ll forgive me for saying. Your want to protect the men is stopping you from realizing strategies that you would otherwise consider.

When it comes to putting yourself in danger, you’re far too eager, but when it comes to the men, you’re a foot too slow."

Oliver paused, about to defend himself, but he couldn’t find the words. "Perhaps you’re right," he conceded. "But even as I try to keep them safe, it seems that I have failed already, before a true battle has even taken place."

"Indeed, my Lord. In avoiding risking them, you do not make full use of them. I do not think this to be a battlefield where we could succeed without taking risks," Verdant said. "Or without risking our men."

"You seem as if you have something in mind, Verdant. What would you have me do? As far as ideas go, I am open to them. The Gods know that I have failed enough already. Another mistake, and our defeat will be a certainty," Oliver said.

"I do not know quite how to express it," Verdant said.

"I’m sure you of all people will find a way," Oliver replied.

"Then, if you would let me attempt it, I suppose I shall do my best…" Verdant said, clearing his throat. "Even with the likes of this oil and battle ram plan, I do not think victory can be achieved."

"Admittedly, it does not seem likely with the odds so far stacked against us, but we can do nothing but try nevertheless," Oliver said, without skipping a beat. "I thought you understood that, Verdant, as well as the rest."

"You misunderstand me, Lord. I am not saying that victory is impossible, I merely mean to say that simply with the addition of this plan, it does not seem likely," Verdant said, seeming almost awkward, which was rare for a man like him. He ran his hand through his hair – which by now, had begun to grow back to a sensible length – as he tried to select his words as carefully as he could.

Oliver frowned. "Well, that’s at least a more optimistic outlook, but that optimism doesn’t exactly shine through if we don’t have a plan."

"Of course, you’re right… Indeed you are, and I have been puzzling through it, as thoroughly as I am capable, which does not amount to much, I am afraid," Verdant said.

"Yet you seem to have come to some sort of conclusion. What is it, Verdant?" Oliver prodded. The priest seemed to be having an increasing amount of trouble getting to the point.

"Well, I say that, we have achieved much in our short time on this mission. Would you agree with that?" Verdant said.

Again, Oliver’s frown deepened. "On the first day, perhaps. That was a stroke of luck, but that was indeed progress. The barricades, indeed, those were progress, but I can not agree that we have ’achieved much’, not when we have paid thirty men for our efforts."

"I believe that we are looking in the wrong place, in that," Verdant said. "Conventional strategy does not consider it, but I believe a man like Minister Hod would see it. He believes in people with an almost religious intensity, as I’m sure you’re aware. Minister Hod, of all people, believed that you would bring victory. Have you an inclination of why that might be, my Lord?"

"…I told him that I was confident I could still bring progress, but this campaign does not come down to my individual skill. Not yet. We still hold to our original aim of slaying their General, but it is the men and our strategy that must build our bridge towards it," Oliver said.