A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 848: The Strength of Resolve - Part 2

They were moving quickly, and purposefully through tasks that many would have dismissed as minor. There was an energy to their movements that defeated men simply didn't have. These were men still set on the road to victory, and they were determined to make up for yesterday's losses.

Oliver supposed that the news of the morning attack was likely what gave their morale an avenue to recover, just as he'd supposed it would. If they hadn't come up with a plan to retaliate for yesterday's losses, he knew that the blow would have cut even more deeply.

With the state of their forces and their numbers being lessened as they were, there was a third distinct possibility: the Macalisters could have chosen to attack their encampment instead, yet they'd chosen not to. Apparently, they respected enough the fight that even their wounded force could put up, and were unwilling to so quickly rid themselves of their strategically advantaged position.

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"Oliver!" Nila called out to him, jogging up with her bow slung over her shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"

Oliver saw the bags under her eyes. "Probably about as well as you," he commented dryly. "But I suppose we'd be madmen to get a sound night's sleep in a situation like this."

"You're telling me," Nila said. "I heard the news. This morning is it, is it? We're going all out?"

"Afraid so," Oliver said.

"Good," she said, far too cheerfully. "I was beginning to miss Solgrim. This is the longest I've been away from home forever. I had a stay in Ernest a few months ago, but that was close to this as I've come. I'm looking forward to getting back."

"As am I," Oliver said, truly meaning it. A good few of his weaknesses had already been exposed by this encounter, and he was eager to get back where he might work on them with a good deal less pressure.

They continued to watch the men together. It seemed that Verdant had prepared two full carts of oil, and one cart that had nothing in. Both had been saddled with tree trunks to serve as battering rams, and wooden rods had been run through the carts on either side, so that they could push them from more places than just the back.

Tjorn had them set up days before, using the supply carts that they'd already burned through, but even Oliver did not think that they would be using them so soon. He'd envisioned another week of carefully chipping away at the enemy, inching closer each time with his barricades, but that idea had been thoroughly dismissed.

The ex-slaves assisted with the preparation just as much as the soldiers, though they did so clumsily, more often getting in the way as they carried out unfamiliar duties. Nevertheless, they proved eager to learn. That was a fact that kept the Skullic men patient even if their newfound respect for the Patrick men's strength hadn't.

Soon enough, Verdant came over to join Oliver and Nila.

"Ten more minutes, my Lord, and I think we should be ready to go," he said, before taking a quick glance at the sky. "That should take us to mid-morning, right on the dot."

"Right. Have you had the horses saddled and ready?" Oliver asked.

"I have, just in case, though I was unsure whether you would wish to use them," Verdant said.

"Even if it seems unlikely that the enemy will leave their fort, we might as well have the cavalry with us as an option. We can always dismount the men if need be, but it would be a waste not to use a tool that we have access to."

"Very sensible my Lord, I shall let them know," Verdant said. "Have you given thought to our combat arrangements?"

"I have, though I would prefer to give details when the men of command are gathered together."

"Very well – shall I gather them?" Verdant asked.

"Would you let me help?" Nila said. "I might lose my mind if I stand still for any longer."

Verdant smiled at her honesty – it was one of Nila's most endearing qualities. "But of course, Lady Felder, it would be a great help to have your assistance. If you could find Blackthorn, and the rest of my Lord's personal retainers, as well as your friend Judas, that would be immensely helpful."

"Sure!" Nila said cheerfully, jogging to see it done. Oliver watched her go, briefly considering what Mrs Felder might have to say about Nila's sudden obedience. She'd no doubt be shocked.

Within the space of five minutes, a considerable crowd was beginning to gather outside of Oliver's tent. The Sergeants had ended up coming as well, though Oliver hadn't specifically asked for them, and as they waited for the rest of the officers to gather, Rofus busied himself making wry comments.

"I've gone and got snow in my pants," Rofus said, loudly enough so that everyone could hear, though he made the comment looking particularly in Amberlain's direction. "What do you reckon I should do, Amberlain?"

"What? Why are you asking me?"

"'Cos you seem like the sort of fella to get snow in his pants fairly often," Rofus said, shrugging.

"What!? I don't!" Amberlain said.

"Oh, my bad. I thought that, when you had the wet patch on your trousers two days ago, it was because of the snow melting. It wasn't?" Rofus said. "I didn't think your bladder was that bad."

Amberlain was going red. He ought not to have been here. He wasn't a Sergeant, after all. Rofus must have just convinced him to come so that he could make fun of him. "Sergeant, I'm really going to hit you…"

"Right, that's enough out of you two," Northman stepped in, putting a meaty hand on Rofus' head, and one on Amberlain's shoulder. "Amberlain, you can leave. We only need Sergeants here. And you, Rofus, shut yer mouth. Another word out of you, and I'm going to clobber you."