A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

The Lord made no move to reply until his men were mounted. Oliver did not think that was an intentional display of power. He thought it was more due to the fact that he simply couldn't hear the man, as far away as the two were.

He gave a nod to the soldiers on duty and strode inside. They looked at him unsteadily, knowing full well that they were in for a world of trouble, but there was nothing that they could do about it, for the Lord was here now, as were his men.

There was no ceremony with Lord Blackwell – at least, not yet. He was a straightforward man, and he made that evidently clear with the speed that he descended down the carpet, and towards the bottom of the High King's steps.

The entirety of his entourage followed along after him, filling up the width of the walkway and going back several rows. They immediately made the hall feel suffocating from their presence. Even with their lack of weaponry, there was an air to men fresh off the battlefield that the likes of the common nobility simply could not face.

It was enough to leave the High King intimidated. As Lord Blackwell descended upon him, he scooted further and further back into his chair and made a show of fright. He was on the point of lifting his hands up to shield himself, when Lord Blackwell went to a heavy knee at the bottom of the throne, and kneeled before him.

With military precision, all his men kneeled after him, all in time with each other.

"My King," Lord Blackwell said. "I have returned to answer your summons."

"Y-you ignored me, Blackwell!" The High King spluttered. "I asked you why you brought such filthy creatures with you into the Capital!"

"Apologies, my King, I did not hear you. My mind was only on your order. We were given the signal to arrive with excessive speed – we did what we could to fulfil that demand," Lord Blackwell said.

"You were asked to leave your horses by the gates," the Fourth Boundary knight of earlier said, an edge to his voice.

"We had every intention of doing so, until we received new orders," Lord Blackwell replied. "We can do nothing but obey, Lord Justus."

The bodyguard sighed, knowing full well that the Blackwells were as stubborn as the Blackthorns, and to argue with them was to do siege with the walls of high castles – it would last far too long to be classed as a victory.

"V-very well," the High King said, recovering himself. "We shall proceed."

"Yes, my King," Lord Blackwell said. The very fact that he spoke up in agreement seemed to offset the King even more, and he shot Justus an exasperated look, but there was nothing that the bodyguard could do, except from step a little closer to the kneeling Lord, as if to warn him.

"Your campaign against the Verna – report," the High King said. And so began the ceremony. The High King – and everyone present – had long ago received the details of what was happening in the East. They knew both of the victories and of the lack of progress. There was little to say.

"We have captured three castles along the northernmost edge of our border," Blackwell said.

"Is that all?" The High King asked. "How many castles do we need before we can say we've properly breached their border."

"A total of twenty-two castles mark our border with the Verna," Blackwell replied. "For comfortable advancement, I would advise taking more than half."

"Oh? And you only have three?" The High King said. "So, in terms of Verna territory captured, do you have anything to show for these past three years?"

"Nothing except from those castles, and the lives of the men that fought under me, as well as the security of the border for the duration of our campaign," Lord Blackwell replied evenly, showing no public shame.

"I am very disappointed, Lord Blackwell," the High King sighed. "I was told that you were a man of particularly noteworthy skills. I was promised reward for our investment in this campaign. I wished for Verna vintages, grown under the crown's orders. Do you mean to tell me we have nothing to show?"

"Security is not nothing, Your Grace," Lord Blackwell replied. "Your people can not fault you for keeping your country safe."

"This is not my failure, Lord Blackwell," the High King sniffed. "It is yours. The people will blame you for our lack of progress, not I."

Lord Blackwell kept his silence at that.

"Oh, Lord Blackwell, whatever are we to do?" The High King sighed. "You are getting on in years. Your years of service have not been forgotten, but perhaps it would be best if you retire."

"Retire?" Lord Blackwell said, as though the word was foreign to him. "I do not see any opportunity in my future for retirement, my King. The Blackwells fight until we reach the grave."

"You made such requests of me, for added numbers and the like… I ought to have listened. If I had known you had gotten so much weaker, I would have," the High King said, sighing. "I suppose I was foolish in that. Forgive me, Lord Blackwell."

"…There is nothing to forgive, Your Majesty," Lord Blackwell said, through a tightly clenched jaw. His men behind him were barely managing to suppress their own anger at such an insulting display.

"But this lack of results, good Lord Blackwell, what are we to do about it?" The High King said. "The lack of returns… It's no good for the Capital, and no good for the Kingdom. A waste, is what it is, I tell you. But then, I know nothing of war. I ought to have asked my Pillars to join me, but I did not anticipate your report would come fraught with such bad news… Justus, what do you say?"

"I wonder, do these castles of yours have any use, Lord Blackwell?" Justus asked.

"…They will soon be recaptured, if they are not manned, but they do have much use as daggers into the enemy's side, through which we can stage future invasions," Lord Blackwell said, "provided, of course, that we keep a hold of them."