Chapter 1978: Rapid Expansion - Part 2
"And if I move to stop you?" Oliver said.
Blackthorn gave him a dark look. "Then I will fight you as harshly as if you were the High King himself."
"You will die if you march alone," Hod said coldly. "Four thousand men is about as many as you can expect. Against Blake, however, and the High King’s remaining soldiers, you will find yourself lacking."
"I very much doubt that, Minister," Blackthorn said. "But even if you are right, it matters not. I will not perish before I sever the High King’s head, that I am certain of. And if I do live, then I will march down towards King Wyndon after, and see his head struck from his shoulders for unleashing Tiberius."
"A rather destructive bit of planning," Hod said. "I think it to be a shame."
Blackthorn growled in response, but there was no convincing him. They did try between them, the men of standing that remained, and Oliver himself, Verdant, and even his own daughter. But there was no quelling the anger or the grief that remained in the man now. It was a stark reminder to Oliver of the truth of their situation – of his own grief that would find him again, once he did try and sleep. Blackthorn was the living embodiment of it. Like Oliver, he had lost too much in such a short amount of time. His greatest rival, and also the Queen that he had been fiercely loyal to.
It was hard to know what to do. To block Blackthorn for his dispatch in order to save his life, only to ensure his hatred, and to see their numbers weakened in the process. Or to allow him to march forward by himself, only to go to his certain death.
It was a heavy hand that Lord Blackthorn put on their shoulders, practically forcing them to act. If they could not turn him back from his march, then the only other sensible option that they had, it seemed, was to join him. To abandon the plans that they had in waiting, and to go straight in now as they were.
"To see the Stormfront perished. To see civil war rot it for decades to come," was the harsh prediction that Hod gave, if they were to do that. Oliver wanted to doubt him, and go ahead anyway. The plan of laying claim to the Black Mountains suddenly seemed to childish and insignificant now with such a problem in front of him. He wanted to doubt Hod, but a part of him very much believed that future would come to be as well. He did not think that it would simply be enough to cut away the High King, after all that he had managed to rot in the Kingdom.
Once more, did he find himself at an impasse. Twice in a single day, his mind had been changed, and the direction had been entirely cut from him. He knew not what direction to fly in. He spoke to Nila, and she was even more conflicted than he. She seemed to lean towards stopping him, to spare his life even if it meant incurring his hatred. She thought it would be the kinder thing to do, and Oliver agreed that it would be. Though, as much as he wanted to save Blackthorn, he wasn’t sure if he could burn their entire cause in the process, and lose so many soldiers in the battle that would inevitably take place. Hundreds and hundreds, possibly even thousands of lives would be lost by that decision, all to save one man, albeit a great man.
Lasha could hardly talk on the issue. She was troubled beyond measure. A short few lines of conversation Oliver stole from her, before she straightened up and declared that she would speak to her father herself.
Hod, as much as Oliver spoke to him, was the same, harsh and cold in his pronouncement. He had no time for Blackthorn’s emotions. There was almost a lack of humanity there. "I will not sacrifice an entire country for a single man," he said. "We have an obvious way forward, King Patrick. You have seized a title with an immense amount of responsibility. Many decisions like this you will have to make, and each time, you must put your country before your own heart."
In speaking to Verdant, it wasn’t much better. The two aligned rather strongly in their thinking. Though at least Verdant could see the need to honour Blackthorn. "Perhaps if we sent some good men with him, we might at least not see him too harshly disdained. Though, in the end, I think the result would be the same. And it is not even his victory that we can long for, given that it would come prematurely, and we do not have what we need in place to see the country stable after his departure."
"Are you sure we could not survive that instability, Verdant?" Oliver asked. "Could we not claim it, through bloodshed, and through speed, and just deal with the pieces later on? Is that not how the First King did it?"
"Perhaps if we intended to raze what the Stormfront once was," Verdant said thoughtfully. "But as long as the old system exists, there will be the obvious question as to what right we had to cut down the likes of the High King, and as long as we wish to see that rich history preserved, we must find and present our right, before carrying out the deed."
"With each day that passes, he is likely to be solidifying his position. Perhaps Blackthorn is right, and we simply need to move. Perhaps we simply go all the way, and begin something new."
"It is a risk that I would follow you in taking," Verdant said. "However, to begin a new country, you need a strong foundation to blossom off. A rich leader. The First King birthed the Stormfront. Who would birth what follows it? As far as I can tell, Your Majesty, there is only you who could attempt it."
"That’s impossible," Oliver said.