“Aren’t you descended from those weak, cruel men?” Xander asked, taunting her.
Anger flashed in her eyes. “I suppose we both are. Which makes us what, family?”
“If we are family, then let Ilion repay the debt of those ancestors. We can try to recompense for what was done.”
“Locris has paid a thousand years for a crime committed against one woman. How long should Ilion pay for a crime committed against thousands of women?” she asked calmly. “Your goddess demanded the sacrifice of Locrian maidens? My god demands death and destruction and to tear down all that his mother has built. The only payment I will accept is the blood of your people.”
“Why take me prisoner if you aren’t interested in bargaining in good faith?” Xander subtly pulled at his chains, as if probing for a weakness. I wondered if Artemisia noticed.
“Because I am going to negotiate with your beloved city for your ‘safe return.’ And as soon as they agree and open their gates, I’m going to slaughter everyone inside.”
Part of me wished I hadn’t sent Rokh off. This was information that Troas needed to have.
Although I supposed it didn’t really matter because Artemisia wasn’t going to get the chance to enact her plan. I would retrieve my husband and return to the city before she could arrive.
Armies moved slowly.
“It sounds to me as if you’re not in a position to negotiate,” Xander said. “Who is your commanding officer? Why don’t you go and fetch him for me?”
A look of pure hatred crossed Artemisia’s face before she called to one of the guards to find the general.
It was one of the rules of combat. A prisoner of war had the right to request an audience with the leader of an army.
They sat in silence until his arrival. He strode in with full armor on. When he removed his helmet, I saw that he was a middle-aged man, with gray strands lining his hair and beard. He looked like a military commander, his expression serious and sure.
“My apologies, King Alexandros,” he said. “This is not a very civilized way to meet one another.”
“I agree with you, General ...”
“Enyalios,” the man said. “Why have you called me here?”
“I wish to negotiate with you,” Xander said.
“You are in no position to negotiate anything,” Artemisia interjected with a snarl.
The general ignored her, as if she hadn’t spoken. “What is it you’re offering?”
“An end to your march on Ilion. Turn around and take your men home. And we can discuss what amount of gold you would need to make that happen.”
“Why are you listening to this?” Artemisia demanded, standing up. “He is the child of liars and abusers.”
Enyalios finally deigned to acknowledge her. “Because not everyone shares in your murderous enthusiasm. It was you who tricked the king into declaring war, and many of the men here do not want it—theywould prefer to return home. If there is a way to negotiate a treaty between our two nations, then—”
“A treaty?” she shrieked. “We haven’t waited a thousand years for a treaty! This is not what Arion wants.”
“Do you speak for him?” the general countered.
“I am his hammer.”
“Because you killed all your brothers. The hammer was only supposed to be wielded by the men of your family.”
“None of them are left,” she said through clenched teeth. “There is only me. And I will lead Caria to victory.”
“Your plan is flawed and will not work. You lack the experience and knowledge necessary to lead,” Enyalios told her. “The walls at Troas have stood for a thousand years for a reason. They are impenetrable.”
“I have lived in Troas. I am very well acquainted with the city and its defenses,” she said.
“You lived in the temple and only left the grounds a few times. You are all but useless. You did not learn anything of value that could help us.”
