Chapter 2049: Weighty Judgents – Part 6
“In tis like this, I see no further than an ordinary man. Perhaps even less,” Hod said. “These are not tis of logic. You need not a Minister with my limited sort of skill. I failed to foresee how much I was limiting you, until the mont it was evident. I failed to see betrayal from the Ersons, and I counselled you towards it. It is not I that have seen us properly through these uncertainties, it is you, Oliver Patrick. You yourself that made you King.”
“Do not rob of responsibility, Minister,” Oliver cut back, and Hod’s drooping eyelids flashed opened into a frown. “These were my choices, my weaknesses, my own lacking rule. I have taken backwards steps, it is certain. But I will get better. In the sa realm of progress that Dominus counselled towards, I will place my faith, and I shall struggle. This could not have been much more of a disaster, but that does not an that it is over. We have failed – I have failed. But the Ersons have failed too. A ssy ga, one that I intend to co out on top of.”
“…Rob you of your responsibility, you say,” Hod said thoughtfully. “Am I attempting to do that?”
“You use logic again to guide yourself out of this,” Oliver said, “but that it is not your responsibility. You swore yourself as my Minister, to give your opinions as you saw fit. Continue to do that. You encouraged to bear the crown, though I did not wish to. It turns out, you were right in that too. I have tried to run away from it, but there is no more running to be done. I will bear it properly. See, Minister, not all your advice has been without rit.”
“We’re just children, struggling to run,” Blackthorn chipped in.
“You too, Captain?” Hod said. “Have all found wisdom in my temporary absence?”
“More like, I think we’ve simply acknowledged that, despite our victories, we’re still very much fallible,” Oliver said. “At least, I have. I expected a level of competency in rule that I had no grounding for, and in my discontentnt, I barred myself from any proper progress. It will be ssy, for as Blackthorn said, this is a monarchy of inexperienced infants, but we are forced to do our best. And I require you for that, Minister.”
“If that is your will…” Hod said, still looking uneasy. Not the sa man, so full of certainty, that Oliver was used to seeing. It brought him a strange degree of comfort to know that he was not the only man fumbling around in the dark.
When he looked back on Ernest, and saw the plus of black smoke that still sat in the sky, it really did seem as if the sky had descended them into a personal prison of darkness. A maze, just for them to navigate. Only now, did it seem, they were starting to break free of it. It felt symbolic, a good definer for the first month of Oliver’s attempted rule.
“What would you have do?” Hod asked. “And what will you yourselves attempt to do?”
“As much as we can,” Oliver replied. “I do not know exactly what I will find when I catch up with General Blackthorn, but at the very least we will pursue a justice. As for you, Minister, the city needs defending in our absence. Will you work with Nila and Greeves and take charge of it for ?”
“I am doubtful that the High King will be reactive enough to try anything while you are away… But then we can not dismiss the possibility that the Erson King forewarned Blake of his attempt. Nay, now that too even begins to seem likely.”
“Two thousand n remain in Ernest. I trust that whatever might appear at our gates, you will be able to hold out against, at least until we return. Then, if a fool does appear, we will crush them against our own walls.”
“I’ll send a crow in that event,” Hod said. “The advantages of us still being in Erson territory, I suppose. You can be rather reactive, given that the distance to be travelled is not all that great.”
Oliver nodded his agreent.
“I must make haste now, Hod,” Oliver said. “I place my trust in you! Hold out against whatever might co our way, and then this betrayal from the Ersons might shift away from being a loss, and towards a point in our favour. I will endeavour to make it so.”
“Good luck to you, King Patrick,” Hod said, saluting.
“Luck to you as well, Minister.”
…
…
Captain Blackthorn and King Patrick galloped their way through the thin layer of snow. Small rcy in that, Oliver thought. It was the perfect ti of year to cover a long distance on horseback. Cool enough that the horses wouldn’t be quick to overheat, as they would be in sumr. The ground was hard enough that their hooves were not likely to sink, and the snow was thin enough that it didn’t do much other than offer the slightest possibility that their horses might slip. But both Blackthorn and Oliver put their faith in their steeds. They held the reins loosely, without really controlling the direction of their mounts. They encouraged them towards a speed, then it was the horse that chose the rest of the way.
The sky was beginning to darken, after the dramas of the day. So much had occurred all at once. Their ride on horseback was a strange period of reflection allowed to them in the middle of what should have been a storm.
It brought much to bear on the heart. Worries ca warring at the castle gates of their individual confidences, threatening to break its way in. Oliver fought it off, and reached for sothing else. His mind drifted, not in thought, but in sothing else. As if he was swimming deep beneath a sea, looking for currents that might guide him.
He tried to hold on to a certain feeling in his chest – that which had welled up, when his anger was raised. The justice of that, and the powerful motivation that it offered. It kept him steady, and eager. It kept his adrenaline racing.
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