Chapter 1923: Poison Fangs - Part 5
Queen Asabel – there was a strength, he thought with pride, recalling all that she’d done in unifying her territories. Energy came with that, but it was immediately robbed away, when he thought upon all that she might have done, given longer to live. What a wonderful monarch she would have been.
He wondered if Dominus had felt the same in seeing Arthur die. A strange sense of solidarity from that. His master had walked the same path. What would that man have said? All that pain he no doubt carried around with him. The poison that he lived with... And still, despite it all, he died in service of others.
"Died in service of others..." Oliver muttered to himself, finding something – the beginning of resolve. Those old teachings that he had founded his entire military career upon.
"General Patrick!" There came a shout. The very man that he was looking for. A bright patch of copper-red hair, and a Prince red-faced, his sword bloodied, wading into combat of his own volition.
General Fitzer was not far off either. He turned to hear the shout of Oliver’s name.
"How goes it beyond the hill?" Prince Hendrick asked him, taking a break from the front lines, as other men moved to take his place.
"Poorly," Oliver said. "Queen Asabel is dead..." He felt his throat tighten as he said that. He felt the tears threaten to return to his eyes. He felt the list of accusations that came along with it. She died, and it was my fault. I ought to have been there with her. She died, and we were not fast enough to save her. She died, and it was this war that we pushed her towards, me as strong a voice as the rest, that did it. Instead, he cleared his throat and continued, holding himself strongly. "Blackwell, Karstly, Broadstone, Skullic, they are amongst the fallen as well."
He should have felt proud, not to have any more tears run as he said their names, and he felt the weight of each of their deaths afresh. His fingers clawed at themselves as they gripped Nelson’s reins, but that was the only outward evidence he gave of weakness, along with the bite of the lip.
Somehow, Prince Hendrick’s gaze seemed all the more pitying for the fact that Oliver attempted to hold it back.
"These men wish for us dead, just as much as you," Prince Hendrick said.