A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 2074: A Castle to Keep - Part 5

Capítulo 2074: A Castle to Keep – Part 5

Against the temporary light that Oliver Patrick had shone, for those handful of minutes in the battle against Tiberius, General Fitzer knew himself to be a corrupt man. But there too, he had found a hope, for in his many conversations with Oliver Patrick, he had not found a man of perfection.

“CHARGE, TROOPS OF MINE!”

With eyes closed, Fitzer took his horse to the hill.

Hope spreading through his chest, a feeling of lightness. That man, so blindingly bright, had not been a creature without flaw. He’d been rigid with flaws, more flawed, perhaps, even than Fitzer himself – and yet he was a man who unmistakeably held Claudia’s favour.

Why?

Fitzer, with the clicking of his heart, thought he knew why.

As the gravity took him down the hill, freeing himself from control, and as he found an impossible surge of morale from the men behind him, not even truly understanding why he had managed to birth such a fire in them, he thought he understood why.

For Oliver Patrick had done, many times, as Fitzer now did. He charged down the hill, expecting death. He’d confronted the impossible, where his fear was at his highest. He’d done that over, and over, until the ancient runes that spelled out courage must have been carved onto his left hand, pumping blood through his heart.

There was a man that no doubt felt as much corrupt thought punching through him as Fitzer did. A man who must have operated with the weightiest of devils on his shoulders. Yet again and again, did Oliver choose a different path, the path of self-sacrifice. The path, Fitzer now knew, to belong to that of a hero.

Why had the world glowed so bright when he had made that choice to pick up a crown? It was not because Oliver Patrick had wished to be King – it was for the very opposite reason. He had killed himself, and his wants, so that justice might continue to live.

Now, Fitzer did the same. His exhaustion faded away like dirty water. He found himself a cleaner man once he reached the bottom of the hill than he had racing up against it.

He could see his mighty enemy in Blackthorn, broad shouldered, and impossible in the magnitude of his presence, waiting for him, all the way at the top of the hill.

And somehow, Fitzer finally found the courage to suppose that he might overcome him.

He was ready, he realized, to die. He had a man he wished to see on the other side in Tussle, and to that man, he declared, he would give one last beautiful display.

The thrill of the cavalry that kept pace with them, as they went far too quickly down that steep hill, and were rewarded for it, in a pace that would have been impossible to work up on foot. Then the infantry that rushed behind them. The way the earth shook. The way their cries filled the air. The way the Command that swam back from them lent to Fitzer’s sword arm, making him feel the strongest that he ever had.

When they took to the bottom of Blackthorn’s hill, they did so at a considerable speed. Even the archers had come forward, though Fitzer had not ordered them to. They’d raced their way to the bottom of the hill, and as Fitzer’s cavalry and his infantry raced up the hill, the archers were sending on arrows up ahead of them.

Bravery, every step of the way. A firefight between the archers broke out. A thousand arrows sped towards Fitzer and his cavalry, and in return, a thousand arrows were sent towards Blackthorn and his waiting men.

As Fitzer neared the centre of Blackthorn’s hill, he could practically see the guillotine hanging above his head. For the crime he had committed, he’d already been placed in the stocks, and was there, waiting for the judgement to be given.

It was through the eyes of Blackthorn that he felt that.

Nay, those were not the eyes of Blackthorn. They were the eyes of House Black. His House was the only remaining line – and he wore those eyes well. The mad dogs of the First King. His berserkers, and, his executioners.

Blackthorn gave the command, and he came charging down to meet Fitzer, lent speed by gravity, just as Fitzer knew he would.

The Emerson General had his sword drawn. Blackthorn made it clear who his target was, with a point of his glaive. Lacking in speed, compared to Blackthorn, as Fitzer worked his way against the hill, he was certainly not lacking in courage.

He gave the cry. Not for the King. “FOR CLAUDIA!” He bellowed. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

“FOR CLAUDIA!” His men cried, some kind of understanding in that. Something that distanced them from their crimes, and gave them the strength they needed to confront their impending doom.

A great sweeping wave of Blackthorn cavalry came crushing down on Fitzer and his number. General Blackthorn’s glaive found Fitzer’s sword, and knocked it aside with crushing speed.

In the saddle Fitzer stumbled, carrying a newly deep wound to his shoulder, but he kept himself bravely in his saddle, and continued upwards, as General Blackthorn and his cavalrymen sped past him, to wreck havoc amongst Fitzer’s infantry.

He looked to his left, and saw only a few tattered remains of his own cavalry, where once there had been hundreds. On his right, it was no better. A broken line of barely over a hundred horsemen remained – the rest, either killed outright, or knocked further back down the hill.

“TOGETHER!”

“””URAHH!”””

Fitzer grouped up the last of his men, to face the intimidating threat of the thousands of infantry that Blackthorn had left waiting for him on top of his hill.

Then another bellow from Blackthorn, crushing that last shred of hope. “INFANTRY! CHARGE!” He shouted, near from the bottom of the hill, where he no doubt was about to turn around, and inflict another devastating charge on Fitzer’s number at the bottom.

Fitzer and his men pulled together, plunging into that tide of infantry. Spears came looking for them, but with no Blackthorn to keep him in check, Fitzer slashed his way through the first rank, and then through the second, and the third, his horse plunging deeper and deeper into sticky mud. He was sinking, he could feel it, yet his heart flew high above the swamp, and the elation brought a twinkle to his eyes.