A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 979 - The Chance to Break Through - Part 4

979: The Chance to Break Through – Part 4

979: The Chance to Break Through – Part 4

Oliver had to sigh.

Men like Firyr, he delighted in them, but they exhausted him after a certain amount of time.

He slapped the man on the soldier, and wished him strength, before he finally moved on to Yorick.

The new Commander saluted him from the back of his horse as Oliver and Verdant approached.

“Captain!” Yorick said.

“You’ve heard, I assume, Yorick?” Oliver said.

“Battle begins at the bottom of that hill.

That’s where our objective awaits us.”

The man didn’t manage to conceal his nervousness.

“I have heard, Captain,” he replied uneasily.

“I am sure that Karstly has a good plan waiting for us.

He’s gotten us this far, and I trust him to a degree,” Oliver told him, “but the Patrick forces have our own way of doing things.

Call it insurance, if you will.

If we grow lost enough in battle that we need to make our own way, we’ll do it with the targeting of the plumed helmets.”

“Plumed helmets?” Yorick repeated.

“Ah… The Verna display their rank with them, don’t they?

I can’t say that I know what colour is rich.”

“Nor do I,” Oliver admitted.

“But I’ve been told the closer the colour is to gold, the more valuable the head is.

A convenient system of judgement, for I’ll be paying in gold for any valuable heads you or your men manage to take.”

Yorick startled at that.

“Sorry, Captain, I must have misheard you… I could have sworn that you were saying you were offering payment for officers…”

“Is that so strange?” Oliver said.

“Skullic has offered payment for his men by head in the past.

I wouldn’t be the first to do it.”

“Perhaps not, but I didn’t think it would be done here… and not by a Captain, at the very least.

That’s usually something to be determined after the war is done, at the awards ceremony, when the contributions of each man is evaluated,” Yorick said.

“And the contributions of lesser soldiers are overlooked, no doubt,” Oliver replied.

“Worry not, Yorick.

I will see.

Inform your men.

If they’re to make an achievement, or if they have doubt, slice a plumed head, and they’ll be rewarded for it.”

“Very well, Captain,” Yorick said, still hesitant.

“And prepare those men for battle,” Oliver said.

“This will be your first with us.

Do not allow it to be your last.

Be crisp, and stay tight to my orders.

We will get through this comfortably enough if you do.”

“I can promise that, at least,” Yorick said, though Oliver felt little energy from him.

As he’d expected, it was so much harder to connect to the newer men.

All Oliver could feel emanating off Yorick was his fear.

It was enough to draw Ingolsol’s golden flecks to his eyes.

“Yorick,” Oliver said, more firmly this time, drawing his attention to Oliver’s eyes, holding his gaze.

“Obey, and you shall be mighty.”

In that order, he allowed a little of Ingolsol’s influence to mix with his own Command.

The resolute nod he received was far more to his liking.

There was something barely approaching fire in his eyes now.

“It will be done, Captain,” Yorick replied.

“Was that enough?” Verdant asked, as the two of them began to walk away, leaving Yorick to speak to the rest of his own men – Oliver figured that it would be better to hear from him.

He would have preferred to give them a speech, to give them some amount of Command before they rode, but with the orders from the General and Colonel Gordry, it seemed as if he would have to wait until the heat of battle to give anything as such.

“For now,” Oliver replied.

Of course, it wasn’t what he wanted.

Not entirely.

He hadn’t had the time to forge a new sword in Yorick.

But nevertheless, he figured that it would do.

He’d trained enough new men by now that he was comfortable with the process.

By the time they made it back to their own column, Colonel Gordry found them again, carrying more of General Karstly’s words.

“We aren’t in a position to spread out here,” Gordry said.

“The General wants us to charge staggered, allowing time for the lower ranks to collapse into the upper ranks.

I’m sure you’re used to such manoeuvres, Patrick.”

“Of course,” Oliver replied, keeping his face straight.

The truth, obviously, was that he was not.

His was not an army of soldiers, it was an army of warriors.

They didn’t practise those highly technical shifts in formation – they only drilled that which they were likely to use on a battlefield.

The switch from near-single file to a flat horizontal line was too complicated and specific a manoeuvre that Oliver couldn’t see the worth in practising it.

The Colonel was momentarily stumped at his quick response.

“Is that right..?

Very well.

The General has ordered the wagons to be in the centre of our formation.

We will use their weight to lend force to our charge, whilst ensuring them the protection all the same.”

“Got it, Colonel,” Oliver said, saluting.

It was as he’d expected, in terms of how they planned to look after their wagons, but still, he doubted that there would be enough orderliness in the charge to get the kind of formation that the General wanted.

“Form up then, and prepare to charge,” the Blackthorn Colonel said.

“The order will be coming any minute now, through the General’s flagbearer.”

Oliver let his smile wash off his face with the Colonel’s departure.

“I think he might like me now,” Oliver said to Verdant, making the joke, though he didn’t feel enough humour to enjoy it himself.

“It was only a matter of time, my Lord,” Verdant replied, sharing enough humour in their smile for the both of them.

Oliver looked over his shoulder.

Blackthorn was still amongst her men, where she ought to have been.

It felt odd not riding into battle with her right beside him.

It made him feel as if he was missing something.

He reached for the sword at his hip in her place, and drew it, holding the length of curved steel in front of him, eyeing his own reflection.