Page 36 of The Truth-Teller's Bargain
“Not to mention, she’s filthy rich,” Kerrigan added. “She could probably buy an army.”
“From where?” Dawes asked. “We have all the mercenaries worth a damn from Wolfecrest.”
“Azmarin?” Kerrigan guessed.
“No,” Balthasar said, shaking his head. “The Delaneys wouldn’t get involved unless it were personal.”
Azmarin’s technologically advanced army would certainly tip the scales in any conflict, but Balthasar was right: they wouldn’t engage unless they were attacked directly.
Emi stood and moved next to Balthasar to see their map, bringing their attention back to the provinces of Lenorea. “Well, that leaves the provinces of Meseira and Edysos. What do we know about them?” She turned to the spymaster, whom Aletheasuspected knew nearly everything about everyone important in the kingdom.
“Myron and Yara Imanras of Meseira have more military forces than any province and the supplies to keep those forces for years. But they sided with Aikat during his coup, despite a history of friendship with the Hasans.” Balthasar tapped the map at Edysos, the northwestern province. “Emre Volkan of Edysos is an incredibly powerful mage... He has a teleportation circle in his castle that he commands, which could prove invaluable. If we can convince them to ally themselves with us, it could make a significant difference.”
“If we can get them on our side,” Ker added, shaking a few stray red hairs out of her face. “That’s a big fucking ‘if.’ If we can’t convince them, we waste time, and any one of them could betray us, capture us, kill our people, and cut off our heads.”
Dawes cleared his throat. “It’ll take at least two days to get to Meseira, and another three to travel to Edysos if we move at full speed. We’d better hope they receive us without hostility. We certainly can’t face Meseira’s forces with ours.”
“Not to mention, I’m not exactly the Great Lady of Ephesus,” Ker added. “I heard the title went to some Leandro Gregor fuckhead. Too bad for him, we already have all of Ephesus’s forces ready and waiting.”
“But if we can convince them to support Nakir,” Alethea tried, “then maybe there won’t need to be a battle at all. Maybe if she sees she’s outnumbered, the queen will surrender.”
Ker snorted from the corner of the tent, and Dawes gave a skeptical look. He took a deep breath and pursed his lips, and she sensed he was going to tell her exactly how ignorant she was.
“Listen, Princess, I appreciate the idealism. But this is a war. There will be bloodshed, one way or another.”
Alethea searched the faces around the room, hardly willing to concede that the best way to take back the throne was through senseless violence against a city full of innocent people. Shesighed, staring at the parchment laid out on the desk in front of her. “There’s one way to know for certain.”
“Alethea, we had a deal,” Nakir growled, coming over to stand beside her. His presence was a force of its own, and it was a challenge for her not to be moved by it.
A large, gentle hand took her own, and she peered up at Balthasar, who met her gaze. “No one expects that of you,” he promised.
“It wouldn’t hurt,” Dawes added, which earned him a smack on the shoulder from Emi.
But Alethea didn’t have their experience or knowledge.Thiswas the only way she’d ever been useful in her entire life. So she closed her eyes and forced herself to imagine the scene that would unfold if Nakir’s army marched on Hyelea.
Immediately, her head rebelled, throbbing as she dared to dip into her volatile magic. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably, and she gripped Balthasar’s hand tighter. She was still weak from her visions with Goran, but even so, she plunged into the depths of her powers and tried to wade through the murky waters in search of the truth.
When her eyes opened, they were pure white. She heard Kerrigan swear from across the room, but it was faraway, at the end of a long tunnel.
Alethea turned to where she remembered Nakir standing, a sweat breaking over her brow. When her white gaze fell on him, his face was suddenly clear—the only thing she could see in the room. “Ask me,” she said to him, chest tightening. “Ask me what will happen.”
Nakir’s entire body was tense as he stared down at her, his expression unreadable.
“Alethea...” Balthasar squeezed her hand.I’m here, his touch reminded her. Grounded her.
“Ask me,” she demanded. “I need you to ask me. Be specific.”
Nakir’s jaw was hard as he spoke. “What will happen if wemarch on Hyelea now, with our current forces and reinforcements?”
The room spun as she summoned the magic, pulling at it while it clawed back, scratching and drawing blood. “If you march on Hyelea now,” Alethea said, the words filling her up and pouring out of her, “the death toll will be in the thousands. Blood will flow down the streets. Your victory... complete. Your loss... beyond comprehension.”
Images of battle slammed into her, playing out in her mind’s eye: Nakir’s soldiers cutting her mother’s guards down one by one and taking her bloody crown; the doors to the throne room flung open as they dragged the bodies in one by one. Countless faces flashed in front of Alethea’s eyes until they settled on one lithe, slender body. Ker’s uniform nearly ripped to shreds, her lifeless eyes open and her red hair stained a deeper crimson. Her mother’s body lay before the throne, a sword protruding from her chest. Yet the lifeless eyes of the corpses in the hall turned on her—on Alethea.Your fault, they moaned.Your fault.
That was when she knew she’d gone too far.
Alethea, they called to her, over and over, but she had tipped over. She fell face-first, falling through the vision into total and complete darkness. Voices sounded in her ears, screaming and whispering, as she drowned in the void.
Alethea.
