A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 1096 Readying for Battle - Part 9
1096: Readying for Battle – Part 9
1096: Readying for Battle – Part 9
“That is true,” Lasha said, nodding in agreement.
“Greeves is better at dealing with the sorts of problems that… well…”
She trailed off, and she realized how suddenly she’d been caught in a shifting conversation.
“…Is that it?” She asked.
“Is that what?” Oliver said.
“Your talk of flow, and battlefield rhythm, you just used it on me, didn’t you?” Lasha said accusingly.
“I asked you a question that you were uncomfortable with, and you managed to change the topic – you tricked me!”
“I suppose it is indeed something similar to that,” Oliver said, balancing his blade out in front of him, as he stared down its length, as if checking for marks.
“I find the closer I am to the truth of its nature, the more it appears to be similar to other things… Ah, but then how can I be certain I am close to the truth of its nature, if I haven’t seen the strength to match it.”
“Oliver…” Lasha said.
“Strength, Lasha, that is all an idea should be measured by,” Oliver said.
“I worry about delusion, at times.
Sometimes I cling to a new idea, wondering of its strength, and being convinced of it.
Sometimes it’s hard to let such ideas go.
But if it doesn’t bring you strength, then it can’t be a strong idea, can it?
That might be the only line between madness and competence.
Madness is a misaligning with reality, despite the strength of an idea—”
“Oliver!” Lasha said, speaking up.
“You’re doing it again.”
There was hurt in her eyes now.
Even if Oliver turned his gaze away, he couldn’t help but see it.
Finally, his words grew silent, and the distance seemed to yawn between them with increasing magnitude now that silence had come.
“Oliver,” Lasha said.
“You are troubled.
Do not hide it.
Speak to me.
Or am I not worthy of it?”
Oliver looked at the ground.
He couldn’t find it in himself to reply.
“Do I not have what it takes, Oliver?” Lasha said.
“You never turn to me when you are troubled.
Because I am beneath you in the blade, do I not have your respect? freewёbnoνel.com
Am I not strong enough for you to confide in?
You speak to Verdant like a brother, and I know you speak to Nila, and to Greeves, and to Judas… What is it that I am missing?
Is it something that I have done?
Do you not trust me?”
“It is none of those things, Lasha,” Oliver said, his voice quiet.
“You ask me to speak, but what even could I say?”
“You are troubled,” Lasha said.
“Say whatever it is that comes to mind.”
“For what reason?” Oliver asserted.
“To trouble you with my troubles, when I am not even sure whether I should be troubled by them at all?
By all accounts, we are doing well.
What reason do I have to be troubled?”
“Do you need a reason?” Lasha said.
“If I were different, you would be able to speak to me, and you would find resolution.
Queen Asabel, yes – you have spoken to her before, and you have looked a different man when you have left her company… Why is it that I am so lacking?”
“You lack nothing, Lasha,” Oliver said.
“I lack everything!” Lasha said, biting her lip.
“You cannot even say a true word to me, with your heart in it.
You have to dance around it, like we are fencing with our swords.”
“And it is only you that I can do that with,” Oliver said.
“Perhaps it seems a mundane matter to you, but your training has become a source of peace for me.
You’re so earnest in your seeking for improvement.
I find myself… learning from you…”
His eyes narrowed.
He recalled someone else saying those very same words to himself.
“Lasha?” He said, seeing the moistness of her eyes all of a sudden.
“I do not know what to say,” she said.
“I hate it.
I should have spoken more often before this… perhaps I would know the words.
I was foolish to think that there would be no consequences to my silence.”
“Do you think I know?” Oliver said, shaking his head.
The right response to their awkward deadlock ought not to have been amusement, but that is exactly what came.
“Oh, it’s so ridiculous, Lasha, it’s all the same.
I might very well be awash in madness now.
Even as you and I talk, I can’t help but see the battlefield in it.
We both have our wants.
We have problems to solve, and in the ways of battlefield flow, we attempt to solve them, only to find our flow lacking, and our position stagnant.”
“Oliver…” Lasha said.
“I think I’m just going mad, Lasha,” Oliver said.
“Do not mind me.
I will find the solution eventually.
It’ll be there, hovering somewhere, just where it needs to be, waiting for someone to grasp it.”
“…You will find it,” Lasha said, with surprising resoluteness.
“You always find it, Oliver.
Do not doubt yourself, not when everyone else believes so strongly in you.”
“I think that might be part of the weight of the problem,” Oliver said quietly.
“But it is one that I have asked for, so I will not complain too much aloud.
Ah, besides, did I tell you?” He thrust up his right hand, and he wiggled the stiff fingers in front of her.
“It was a mere sprain.
Another week, and I will be back in fighting form.”
“A mere… sprain?” Lasha said.
She knew that to be an impossibility.
She’d seen the state of Oliver’s hand.
It had been far too mangled.
Yet here he was, wiggling his fingers right in front of her.
Who could possibly deny it?
“That’s right,” Oliver said, nodding reassuringly.
“So you have nothing to be guilty for, Lasha.
Not that you had reason to be guilty in the first place.”
“You saved me, as we fell from Khan’s tower, when you ought to have been saving yourself,” Lasha said.
“If I had taken better care of my own landing, you would not have needed to intervene.”
