The confirmation hits like a blow. Not just supply problems and patrol losses—someone is systematically weakening every aspect of our defenses.
“Could you fix them?”
“The cuts? Yes. But I’d need to know what they’re supposed to do first. I can see where the patterns are broken, but not what breaking them accomplishes.”
Intelligence mixed with honesty. She knows her limitations but understands her strengths.
“The banners carry protective wards. Nothing as complex as the battle standard, but important for unit morale and minor battlefield protections.”
“Unit morale?”
“Warriors fight better when they believe their banners carry their ancestors’ blessing. Whether the magic is real or not matters less than whether they believe it.”
She nods slowly. “So fixing them isn’t just about the magic—it’s about showing your people that the damage can be repaired.”
“Exactly.”
“And having a human repair them sends what message?”
The question shows she understands the political implications as well as the practical ones.
“That depends on whether you succeed or fail.”
“And if I fail?”
“Then we’re no worse off than we are now.”
“And if I succeed?”
I study her face light. “Then you become either an asset worth protecting or a threat worth eliminating.”
The honesty makes her flinch slightly, but she doesn’t look away.
“Those seem like the only two options I’ve had since I arrived.”
Before I can respond, shouts echo from somewhere deep in the fortress. Angry voices, running footsteps. The sound of steel being drawn.
I’m on my feet instantly, hand moving to my sword hilt.
“What—” Zoraya starts.
“Stay here. Bar the door behind me.” I’m moving toward the exit. “Don’t open it for anyone but me.”
“How will I know it’s you?”
“You’ll know.”
I pull the door open and step into chaos.
Warriors run through the corridors, weapons drawn, voices raised in alarm. Someone shouts orders from the direction of the barracks. Steel rings against steel in the distance.
Not an attack from outside.
This is internal.
The conspiracy has moved from shadows into open action.
I draw my sword and run toward the sound of combat, leaving Zoraya barricaded in chambers that may or may not be safe.
