A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 549 The Expected Enemy - Part 7

Oliver did not reply. He didn't seem willing to. He leaned his back against the wall aimlessly, with no word for anyone now that he was sure Verdant would be safe. If the others had not been there, his eyes might have drifted shut, and he might have fallen to sleep amongst the dead.

"Thank you for that information, Jorah," Asabel said, surprising the retainer by her remembrance of his name. "You were right to fear expressing such things. It is a taboo amongst underage nobles, but more than that for the Serving Class. There are some amongst the nobility that would target you for that, under the guise that it is knowledge beyond your station.

Do be careful – and I thank you nonetheless."

Jorah nodded hesitantly. "If I might be so bold, Your Highness…" he motioned to the bodies. "Who are they? And why? I mean not their names, but their purpose. It doesn't make sense to me.

Oliver Patrick has not done anything worth assassinating him over, has he? For all I know, he's done battle with the Yarmdon – but these can't be Yarmdon-employed men, can they?"

"I fear that they are not," Asabel said with a shake of her head. "Things would be much simpler if they were. Despite your question, I fear to answer it, even amongst our small group. This is a matter to be handled by the Ministers. But know this – I will get to the bottom of this, and I will do my utmost to make sure that such a thing never happens again."

Lancelot twisted his lips. "I fear your efforts there might be wasted, my Lady… If this failed – an attempt this large. They will not try such a tactic again. If they could not claim his life through assassination, it will be through other means that they try."

"…And there too we will crush them," Verdant said in a hoarse voice, as his eyes flickered back open.

"Verdant!" Asabel said, surprised. "You're awake already..?"

"I can not remain asleep… when my Lord finds himself in such a tumultuous time," Verdant said, his voice hoarse, despite his attempts to sit up.

"Whilst I'm glad that you're awake already, I would order you to rest," Asabel said firmly. "A stretcher is coming for you. I would ask that you let my people take you back to your quarters. You got the antidote in your system, but you were still touched by a terrible poison. You've got to allow your organs the chance to recover from that."

"I must not, not when we stand at a crossroads, not when things are about to chang—" Verdant said, passionate despite the weakness that infected his voice.

"Verdant," Oliver said sharply. "Do as she says. Recover quickly, and then return. I'll have need of your assistance then." Explore hidden tales at empire

The priest wore a surprisingly glum look, as the last bit of struggle died out in him. He sighed, and allowed his head to rest back on the floor, allowing the exhaustion that permeated his body to truly express himself. "…As you say, my Lord," he said. "It is my failure for getting caught."

The stretcher bearers came soon after, and under Asabel's watchful eye, they gently hefted Verdant up into the carrier and lifted him. They did their best not to look at the state of the corridor as they went, but of course, that was all but impossible, just as it was impossible to hide the terrified looks in their eyes.

"I will not be long," Verdant promised Oliver as he left. "Hold out. Don't let them use this."

Oliver couldn't make out exactly what those words were in reference to. Hold out against what? Hadn't they already taken down the enemy? That would be his first assumption, but this battle here seemed to be expected by people other than him. It seemed to be part of something larger that they had assumed would be happening already, though not likely on the scale that it did.

With the stretcher-bearers, there came Asabel's soldiers, ten of them, armoured with spears in hands. Though their yellow shirts were still visible beneath, labelling them as the students that they were, they seemed to have an aura similar to the real thing. That fierce stoic determination to carry out their duty. They were quality retainers, as one would expect from royalty.

The students that had begun to clammer at the ends of the corridor were forced back, though they could still peer over the men's shoulders, if they strained hard enough. Rumour soon spread of what had happened, just as Asabel had predicted it would. There was no way they could stop it. What even would have been the worth in stopping it.

Oliver sighed, drawing himself upright. He'd been sat for long enough that his legs ached. Though it was not yet particularly late into the evening, nor had he exerted himself all that much, he still found himself feeling peculiarly tired. His bed would have been more than welcome then – to dive under its covers and pretend that nothing had happened.

The stresses of the past two days were catching up to him. It was hard to get more stressful, but by the looks of it, he wouldn't be getting his time to rest anytime soon.

His clothes were ruthlessly drenched in blood. It would likely be impossible to get the stains out. He hadn't been cut, though, he supposed that was a small mercy. Perhaps this Academy had some sort of high-level washing facility, in the same way that it seemed to excel in so many other areas.

If there was ever a place to find a good technique for removing blood from clothes, it would likely have been here.

"Crikey…" A snippet of conversation between the others drifted on over to Oliver. He looked over. Karesh and Kaya had arrived – he didn't know when they'd even been sent for. Now they were surveying the scene, staring at Oliver, and then urgently checking with Jorah to make sure that he was uninjured.

"Poisoned weapons, they got Verdant. Her Highness cured him though – he should be fine, after a little rest," Jorah was explaining to them as Oliver listened in.

"Man… Man… This is insane," Karesh said, looking at the scene. "Fuck. We should have been here. What the hell were we doing? Why didn't we come?"