Amongst their number, Oliver saw Firyr. Whilst the rest were fidgeting about, this man was waving, wearing a big grin on his face. Oliver winced. Indeed, they were an embarrassment, and he knew they would be, but he figured that they were better than nothing – and that it would be a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.
"Alright you lot, get out of the way of Skullic's soldiers," Nila snapped, evidently as irritated with their lackadaisy state as Oliver was. At the words from the little slip of a girl, they shifted as though they'd been struck by a whip, and drifted off to the side, forming the loosest ranks that they could – but they were ranks all the same.
"I've been training them," Firyr shouted over proudly, evidently pleased at the display of moderate discipline.
"Then train them some more!" Nila snapped back. The man looked abashed. Oliver didn't know how she'd done it, but even that bold and untamable Firyr was cowering before her like a dog. He supposed that the months she'd spent building her company and commanding subordinates weren't for nothing.
Oliver watched the interaction, a faint bit of amusement on his face. "You've grown, Nila." He said, recognizing it properly for the first time. She'd struggled to take command back in the Battle of Solgrim, but now it seemed that she was properly able to. These were savage men that she had obeying her – every one of them was a physical giant, matching Judas.
Fifty undisciplined men they might have been, their sheer physicality made them a sight.
That comment, above all else, seemed to cut through Nila's confidence. He hit a soft spot, and she almost blushed. It was only remembering that she was in a crowd full of people that allowed her to retain her calm, though she had to make a show of clearing her throat.
"Northman, as you can see, these are my men – untrained though they might be," Oliver told the man, who'd only just recently climbed back to his feet.
"I suppose they were telling the truth then," Northman said, scratching the back of his neck, still not quite understanding what he was seeing. "I thought that the High King ruled we were to keep the same group though, no?"
"Indeed – it warned Skullic not to send more men. Though it said nothing about my own personal retainers," Oliver said.
"Those are your retainers?" Northman asked. "That's a hell of a lot of them…"
"For the purpose of this mission, they are," Oliver replied.
"That was crafty, my Lord," Verdant mumbled. Even he hadn't known what Oliver was arranging. Oliver had said nothing, unsure of whether it would fall through or not. It was up to Greeves to make the necessary preparations in such a short amount of time. The men had needed to march here all the way from Solgrim, after all.
"It was all I could do to help adjust the scales," Oliver replied. "We'll see how that goes."
"Oh, there they are!" Nila said, pointing, as another trio of three made their way past the soldiers, looking distinctly awkward. "They refused to come with us for some reason. Kind of pompous, don't you think?"
Verdant grimaced sympathetically, as the three retainers bowed in front of Oliver. It seemed that they'd had their own sort of problems.
"My Lord, the tents have been set up, and the provisions have been stored appropriately, as Lord Idris commanded," Jorah informed Oliver, bowing. The three of them were dressed in the same red as the unruly slaves. It must have made them feel embarrassed in no small part.
"You've done well," Oliver said. "I understand that it cannot have been easy. I likely should have warned you."
"No, my Lord. As your retainers, we should at least be able to deal with this," Jorah said.
Oliver nodded his approval, glancing over their equipment. They'd brought their weapons with them, and were dressed in their full armour, with the helms on their heads. They seemed to be trying to express their readiness. Jorah had his spear, whilst Karesh had his greatsword, and Kaya, by contrast, would have seemed unarmed, if not for the blades extending off the end of his gauntlets.
Seeing them, Oliver thought he'd ask what he hadn't had the opportunity to in the past. "Are the adjustments favourable, Kaya?"
"They are, my Lord," Kaya said stiffly. "I have practised with you. Do not worry – I am as ready as I can be."
"Very good," Oliver declared, raising his eyes, and once more addressing the army as a whole. "This is all of us gathered then, men. I express my understanding for the unusualness of my comrades, but I ask that you bear it. With the situation we are in, for any chance at victory, unity will be of the utmost importance. I realize that such a thing will not happen overnight – it is my duty to forge it.
For now, I express a single edict: no infighting. Regardless of social status, I shall not tolerate it. The only hierarchy in this camp shall be military rank. As for what rank these newcomers shall be assigned in my army, that shall be discussed at a later date."
Verdant listened more thoroughly to the speech than any other, admiring the figure that his Lord now cut, now that he was attired properly, with an appropriate mount to match. He was in a position now that his worth demanded that he be in – and a hundred and fifty hardy soldiers all had their eyes transfixed because of it.
It was because of that rapture that he responded to his Lord's summons more slowly than he ordinarily would have.
"Now, Verdant, speak with Cormrant. I would have you perform the appropriate scouting duties, and I want you to see to it that all the men are settled in their camps. By the time I finish meeting with the other Commanders, I expect that information to be ready and available to me," Oliver said.