A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Chapter 568 The Fury of Honest Men - Part 6

"He certainly has his father in him," Idris mused. "If someone had said fifty years ago the same thing about Dominus Patrick, they might have been right. Yet, Dominus had fatal weaknesses. Dominus could not bring true benefit to those that support him. He lacked the fundamental ingredients for that. Does your choice of Lord not invite the same ruin?

The same Lord that now sits in a prison cell, on trial? Your confidence in your ability to predict, my son, and yet you oversaw this."

"Oh, but he did not oversee this," Hod said with a waggle of his finger. "Your son visited my before the assassination attempt occurred, predicting that it would happen. His only mistake was the timing. He assumed better of his opponent."

Now that bombshell caused quite a stir. The crowd shifted uncomfortably, and murmured to themselves. Even Jolamire was shifting in his seat, squinting his eyebrows, looking like he was searching for the words to refute the ridiculousness that Hod had claimed.

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But a voice rang out that put a silence to that. "I, the Minister of Blades, am absent from this trial. I stand merely as a witness to the events that take place therein. Though, I can serve to a clarify a fact. Verdant Idris echoed much the same complaints to me. This event was expected."

Lord Idris drew back in his seat, his eyes had widened in an instant of surprise, but now he wore a calculating look. He seemed to be putting the pieces together, asking why it was they knew, wondering what exactly had occurred to make them so certain. In the same instant, Lord Blackthorn was struggling to do much the same – he was struggling to find any sort of significance in what had been said.

"So that's what happened," Lord Idris mused. "An event of that sort. A change in the winds..."

"Indeed, father, one such event," Verdant said.

"Forgive me, Lord Blackthorn, but I wonder, you don't seem to express the same dislike of Oliver Patrick as many here do..." Hod said carefully.

Blackthorn shrugged. "Strength is to be admired. He killed twenty men, and Alistar Hoofless and Fabian Small? That's a strong feat for a boy. I'm not the right man to judge, but I wouldn't be cutting off the strong when they can have other uses."

"But you seem to be quite angry with your daughter," Hod noted.

"Indeed I am," Blackthorn said, his voice regaining its thunderous quality. "I do not expect disobedience from my own. Until the day that my son can best me, I will command my household, and I expect compliance. My daughter's movements have been bad for our social standing, or so her mother declares. I read not into that, I listen to the wiser, and I give the order. I expect obedience."

"You were wrong, though, father," Lady Blackthorn said. "You agreed with me just now, did you not? I sought instruction from the strong in matters of the sword. Would you not have done the same."

"I am not a woman," Blackthorn said bluntly. "It is admirable that you study the blade in your time at the Academy, but your future duties are womanly ones. You don't sacrifice your future for hobbies."

Lasha's mask cracked more severely at the comment. She looked visibly wounded. Oliver could practically feel her anger. He'd seen how hard she'd worked, especially of late. She'd worked harder than most men were likely to work with the sword – and she was close to achieving something impressive.

She must have been just on the edge of the Second Boundary, and at such a young age too, something that others had already relentlessly praised Oliver for.

"I disagree, Father, but I do not wish to disgrace you by speaking on such matters in a public forum," Lasha said, holding herself back, just barely. "You need only know that I sought Oliver Patrick out for my own reasons, and he taught me."