“I didn’t. I don’t want to.”
“You don’twantto?”
“I’m saving up. For tomorrow night.”
“Be a bit sad if you end up getting killed before then.”
“I guess I’d better be careful. And you’d better help me find the right words to keep people fromwantingto kill me.” Theos grabbed the soap from the side of the tub and started scrubbing. “First, let’s get clean, and shave. Then we’ll get dressed, then maybe sleep a little. And when we wake up, you’ll tell me what I need to say.”
“I’m not sure why you think I’ll know how to convince a crowd of Torians of anything.”
“You’re very persuasive. You’ve convinced me of all sorts of things.”
“Like what?”
Theos had already shared more of himself that night than he had in the rest of his life combined. He’d given all he could. So he shrugged and said, “You persuaded me to drink a lot of broth. That’s quite impressive.”
“I’m definitely qualified to become your speechwriter, then.”
“You’re the best of the available candidates.” Theos passed the soap over and said, “Get clean. We have a war to stop.”
And for once, almost magically, Finnvid did as he was told.
***
Theos didn’t seem nervous. Finnvid was so tense he was practically vibrating, but Theos stood on the stage in the city’s central square, watching the men stream in, and appeared perfectly calm. From ten paces away, on the ground at the side of the stage, Finnvid had no idea whether Theos’s composure was an act or genuine, which somehow made him evenmorenervous. He’d given up his world, was risking his life, and he couldn’t even tell how the man he loved was feeling?
Then Theos glanced in his direction and made a face while taking a deep breath and then exhaling. Hewasnervous. And he was letting Finnvid know something he was hiding from everyone else, because Finnvidwasspecial to him. Which made all the risks worthwhile.
He smiled back, trying to seem more confident than he was, and Theos shook his head. “You used to be a much better liar,” Theos called to him.
“You used to give me better reasons to deceive you.”
Theos grinned, then his attention was caught by a disturbance at the entry of the square. Finnvid followed Theos’s gaze and his chest tightened around his heart. It was the warlord, a squad of men following him, and they were heading right for the stage.
The yard was about half-full, more men pushing in after the warlord, moving faster now in anticipation. Finnvid wanted to run. Not away, but toward Theos, so he could protect him. Still, he’d been given his role, and he would play it. He would maintain his discipline and make Theos proud.
So he stood still, and when the warlord reached him and fixed him with a hard stare, Finnvid met the man’s gaze. “What are you doing here?” the warlord growled, and for the first time Finnvid saw the hint of uncertainty in the man’s face. He really didn’t know what Finnvid was doing, and maybe didn’t know what Theos was planning, either.
“I’m waiting to find out,” Finnvid said. It was honest enough.
“Do you represent your brother? Has he canceled our alliance?”
Finnvid ached to lie, to bluff the warlord into backing down, but he didn’t think he could sustain the illusion, and Theos wanted everything out in the open. So he said, “I represent only myself. I cannot speak for my brother.”
The warlord nodded sharply, then leaned in. “If you get out of here,now, I’ll forget about this. But if you stay? You’ll be held to your decision.”
“As will you,” Finnvid replied. The bravado tasted sweet as it passed over his tongue, but it turned to sour fear as the warlord smirked at him and then waved his men toward Theos.
“Arrest this man!” the warlord bellowed.
The warlord’s men started forward, and Finnvid shrank back. He’d argued about this, but Theos had won. Finnvid would stay out of the way, and Theos would have no Sacrati bodyguards, no one to make it look as if the Sacrati were in revolt. It needed to be clear that Theos was acting alone. So Finnvid stood and watched as the men climbed to the stage and approached Theos. Twelve of them, battle-scarred and strong. And they all froze the moment Theos drew his sword.
“What are the charges?” Theos asked. His voice was almost as loud as the warlord’s, but it was lighter, somehow. Less angry, less aggressive. Almost conversational, if conversations were carried on at such elevated volumes.
“Treason.” The warlord stalked up onto the stage himself, but stayed behind his men. “You have conspired with the enemy against the interests of the people of Windthorn and the Torian Empire.”
“And if I allow you to arrest me for this, will there be a fair and public trial? Will I be allowed to speak in my own defense?”
