A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 1113 The Hammer and the Chain - Part 7
1113: The Hammer and the Chain – Part 7
1113: The Hammer and the Chain – Part 7
“What, are you wussing out now?
You said you could take him.”
“I was drunk, and I was joking,” the man responded.
Something about his tone made it quite clear that he didn’t want to be here.
“You were joking?
You bet on it,” a second man joined in.
“You said you weren’t getting beaten by a pup, no matter how many hands he had.
Well, now he’s got one, you can take him for sure, can’t you?”
“I don’t know… Besides, he’s busy, we’re going to get told off for bothering him,” Uron said uncertainly.
“What’s it matter?
Anyway, let’s just ask him.
No reason we can’t make a friendly dual out of this.”
“He’s busy, though… He’s going to be angry.”
“What do you care if he gets angry?
You’re Uron the Heroslayer, ain’t ya?
You were shouting that last night.
Why not drag this welp down before anyone starts calling him a hero, y’know?”
The loudest of the men came marching Oliver’s way before there was anything that Uron could do to stop it.
Of course, the man had taken care to time his arrival with Oliver’s own return to the top of the hill.
Oliver bolted up it at a sprint, the first flecks of gold appearing in his eyes.
“Captain Patrick,” the man said, saluting with the most miniscule amount of respect.
There was a sleezy look on the man’s face that Oliver didn’t like.
He seemed out of place in a soldier’s uniform, and better placed behind a butcher’s stall, trying to sell people meat that had long since gone off.
“Soldier,” Oliver responded gruffly, his expression harsh, given that he had heard nearly every word that they had said.
In the man’s confidence, or in his hubris, he didn’t seem to read into that harsh deception, for he waved his two friends over.
There was the large, but rather friendly faced man that was Uron, and there was another, a head shorter than him, with a messy scrappy beard, and small eyes that betrayed dishonesty.
“Who are you?” Oliver pressed.
“And what is it that you want?”
His tone was even harsher.
He spoke through his teeth strongly enough that he could have ground them.
Uron recognized that he was overstepping, and began to cower back.
The other two men, however, dragged him forward.
“This is Uron, Captain Patrick,” the first man went on.
“And who are you?” Oliver said, staring him down.
“Me?
I’m Rhast.
That’s Geare,” the man said.
Oliver grunted in response.
“So, how are you planning to waste my time, Rhast?” He said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“A fool could see that I was busy.
So what does that make you?”
Rhast laughed lightly, still seeming rather unoffended.
“Well, I just wanted to introduce you to Uron, Captain.
He’s a strong fighter he is.
In fact, he’ strong enough that he reckoned he could take you.”
The man that they called Uron seemed as if he would have preferred to be anywhere else in the world than right in front of Oliver Patrick there and then.
He shrank back, and quickly stammered his excuse. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
“I-I didn’t, Captain,” he said, looking away.
“You did,” Rhast insisted.
“Didn’t he Geare?”
“I heard him,” Geare said.
“He’s a strong fighter, just shy, Captain, is all.”
“…” Oliver stared them both down.
Uron took another step back, seeing wisdom.
‘Of all the times…’ Oliver thought to himself, noting the ridiculous situation that he was in.
Of all the things that he wished to deal with, this was not one of them.
He’d been in the middle of throwing himself into his training – but more importantly, his thoughts had just begun to flow.
He felt as if he might have reached something, had those thoughts been allowed to wander for a while.
The situation reminded him of an old Stormfront maxim.
Where there are thousands, there are fools.
It was a comment on the statistical probability of there being a good few foolish men in any gathering where there were a significant number of people, rather than a dismissal of a crowd as a whole.
In front of him, Oliver thought he had found those fools.
“C’mon, Captain,” Rhast said, pushing it now.
Oliver wondered what was going on in his mind that he thought this was a wise course of action.
Against no superior officer could he imagine it playing out well.
Still, the smile that Rhast wore betrayed no hint of second thoughts.
He had every confidence that this would end with amusement for him.
“Who do you serve?” Oliver asked the man.
“Huh?
Same as you, obviously.
General Karstly,” he said, prompting a cackle from Geare.
Of course, both men knew that was not what he meant.
“Is this the way you speak to your superiors?
To nobility?
Do you know no discipline?” Oliver said.
“Ser, we’re here before you because of that discipline.
We heard disrespect being put on your name, and we’re here to sort it out,” Rhast said, suddenly adopting the manner of a much more conscientious man.
“What..?” Uron paled even further, well aware that his friends were set to throw him underneath the wagon.
If they could be called friends at all.
“You would be wise to leave,” Oliver said.
“If you stay much longer, I can not guarantee that I will be patient.”
“I understand, Captain,” Rhast said.
“You shouldn’t have to prove yourself to a fool like this.
You know how men are, with their talking.
It’s fine if you want to hand out punishment.
I reckon it’s your right to do that.”
Oliver’s eyes were growing increasingly more filled with gold, and so too were his fists being clenched ever tighter.
Rhast didn’t seem to realize, nor did Geare, as they pushed, and they pushed.
“Wet the sword,” Ingolsol said.
He felt the anger even more strongly than Oliver did.
The want to cut these two men down was overwhelming.
“And the third – he needs dealing with as well.
A coward doesn’t get away by mere technicality.
All the fools that chose to stand in the path of our destruction are the same fools that will die for it.”
