A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 966 - The Advance Force - Part 6

966: The Advance Force – Part 6

966: The Advance Force – Part 6

Everyone was there.

He reassured himself of that.

It had been a panic-inducing camp to make, but now that he was awake, he could see that it had been the right decision.

To bear one’s army to a certain sort of weakness, based on the orders of another, Oliver hadn’t expected that to be so hard.

Only with the coming of morning could he see that General Karstly’s decision had very much been the right one.

Oliver’s head felt sluggish.

His body groaned at him for a few hours more sleep.

They’d hardly slept half the time that he normally would, given how late they had made their camp.

No one else seemed inclined to move any time soon.

Still, he did not feel ready to give himself back to sleep either.

Though he’d confirmed that his men were still where they needed to be, and that they were safe, that was only for now.

He pulled his sheathed sword across his knees, and found reassurance in the familiar curve of the blade.

Bit by bit, as calm returned, he reassured himself of where he was, and what their intentions were.

He ran through the day in his mind, replete with strategic predictions.

Today, they would see more of the Verna than they had the previous day.

Today might even have been when they would meet with the full length of their line.

With such a thought in his mind, there was no way he could reach for more sleep.

“You’l sleep well when you’re cut down dead, I suppose,” Ingolsol commented dryly.

“Optimism, Ingolsol.

If you would learn a mere smidge of it, you would be a far more promising fellow,” Claudia said.

“I don’t want to hear advice from you, wench,” Ingolsol growled.

“Allow me to enjoy the thoughts of coming chaos in peace.”

“Awake already, my Lord?” Verdant spoke.

He had no sound of sleepiness in his voice.

It was as though he’d been up for hours, though just a minute before Oliver had confirmed that his eyes were still closed.

“Did you rest well, Verdant?” Oliver asked.

“Quite,” Verdant replied.

“It was as good a sleep as I’ve had in a while.”

The fact that he genuinely seemed to mean that was alarming.

“…Have you been sleeping poorly, Verdant?”

The Idris man tilted his head, as if not understanding the question.

“Not at all.

Why do you ask?”

With an exasperated sigh, Oliver shook his head.

It was too early to pursue a more lengthy line of questioning.

Verdant was a strange man – that was nothing new to him.

He decided to let it end at that simple extrapolation, so that he might drift back to a degree of quiet.

Those hopes were soon shattered, as the clammer of a pounding stick of metal resounded through the forest.

It was loud, long and merciless.

The soldiers shifted in their sleep.

Blackthorn curled in on herself even more tightly, and ran a hand over her ears, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

The sound only continued, however.

There was no fighting it.

One man opened his eyes, and then the next man did.

Jorah arose, looking around him with alarm, in much the same way that Oliver had.

Their eyes met, and Oliver gave him a reassuring nod.

The man relaxed soon enough.

A sleepy Amelia and Pauline arose soon after.

From how quickly they appeared, Oliver supposed that they must have been sleeping just behind the same tree he was, right next to their mistress.

Amelia rubbed a sleepy hand to her eyes, and heaved a wide yawn.

Pauline did much the same.

She shook her head, as if trying to will herself into wakefulness.

She stood over his mistress, and gently shook her shoulder, calling her name.

“My Lady.

It’s time to wake up,” Pauline said.

The response was not a pleased one.

Lasha groaned, and curled up even more tightly.

She was less cat now, and more hedgehog.

As Pauline continued to shake her, that groan turned into something that was more of a growl.

When her eye finally flashed open, it was filled with anger enough to strike out.

Pauline seemed used to that angry eye, however, for she simply smiled, and continued to coax Lasha back into the world of wakefulness.

“Come, my Lady.

We must see your hair tended to.

There’s much to be done before the day begins,” Pauline said.

Already, Amelia had wrestled a brush out of one of her many bags, and she was standing at the ready to fix the mess that had become of Lasha’s hair.

From how familiar the three of them seemed with what was happening, Oliver doubted that this was a new morning routine.

It struck him as strange to get a glimpse into a person’s life that he wouldn’t otherwise be afforded to.

Rarely did he see Lasha and her retainers interacting as such.

Finally, with a great force of will, they managed to sit the girl up, enough that they could access the hair on her back.

She continued to slump with her eyes half closed as they worked, but for now, neither of them were complaining.

It was an oddly homely scene here in the middle of a wood, deep in enemy territory.

Rightly, Pauline and Amelia shouldn’t have been here at all.

The fact that they’d come on the campaign was one thing, but the fact that they’d come as part of the dangerous advance force was quite another.

They weren’t the only logistical manpower that had come along on the advance mission, of course, but those that had come seemed to be a harder sort.

For the most part, they were all men.

The few women that Oliver did see seemed to be tough enough to be men.

They were the carriage drivers, and the supply accountants and the cooks – all the overlooked parts of operations like this.

They were the extra weights in the supply wagons, more than just empty bits of luggage.

The clamour of the banging metal continued, until most of the forest was on their feet.

“Breakfast!” Oliver heard a booming voice that he could only assume belonged to Colonel Gordry.

“Eat up while you can.

We’re moving in the next fifteen minutes.”