Hell no. For so many years she’d kept herself safe, never taking the risk of loving anyone else. She had finally taken a chance and found someone she cared for, and she was not about to watch him die.
Tor smiled. “I choose K—”
She stepped forward, frantically interrupting. “There’s another option. Please.” Andred looked at her, his cold eyes full of contempt as she continued, “You can hold us hostage.”
“What?” Andred’s scowl darkened.
“You wanted wealth, lands, even power,” she explained, speaking fast. “Tor’s the most valuable of all of us. Mathos, his best friend, is consort to Queen Lucilla, and Tristan, his captain, is now Supreme Commander of the Blues. They’ll pay whatever you ask to get him back. Whatever Ballanor promised, they can give it to you.”
Tor blinked, his expression stunned. As if he hadn’t even imagined he could be of any value.
Andred nodded slowly, digesting the idea.
“The same is true of Keely,” Tor added, his eyes clearing as he focused on her. “Her mother is Moireach’s cousin. She was offered a position on Lucilla’s council. Together, we would make excellent hostages. A bargaining chip that you would be insane to waste.”
Andred grunted, looking between them, considering.
“Truth,” Daena murmured, watching them all warily. Andred looked to Daena, standing quietly as she met his eyes, and then from her to Caius and Usna.
“I don’t like it,” Caius muttered. “We should execute them both and get out of here, move the camp before the queen’s guards come back.”
“Let me think.” Andred folded his arms over his chest, jaw clenched.
Keely took the chance to look across at Tor. The tent was crowded and oppressive, every word a balancing act. And yet he hadn’t once backed down from his support of her. He had looked Andred in the eye and told him that he trusted and chose her, in the face of the truth seeker’s pronouncement. Knowing his faith in her would almost certainly get him killed. Strategically, it had been the worst thing he could have done. And yet, he’d done it for her.
He had followed her north. And he had followed her now. Could she let his actions guide her, rather than his hurtful words? The words she hadn’t let him explain.
She took a step closer to Tor. She didn’t know what to think, but she did know that if they were going to die, she wanted to be standing next to him, facing it together.
“It’ll take a few days to get back to Kaerlud,” Andred said slowly. “Even if the message is passed from rider to rider. Then another two weeks to gather troops, at least a week to march north. Lucilla is not an immediate problem.”
Bard. Where was Andred going with this? She took another step closer to Tor.
“Alanna isn’t a threat either,” Andred continued. “She’ll spend the night in Staith, and then, perhaps, they’ll return. The barracks are almost empty. At best she can send one squad, maybe two, up against our full company. They won’t risk the ridge in the dark. My guess is they’ll get here mid-morning tomorrow.” He looked at his men. “We should take tonight to prepare and march south at first light.”
Usna folded his arms over his chest, frowning. “A half-trained company filled with unprepared fighters from different backgrounds and different squads. Gods, Andred, half of them are reivers we’ve recruited from the mountains and Verturians who’ve fled their own kingdom. We were meant to spend the winter forging weapons and running drills.” He shook his head. “We’re not ready.”
“It’s true,” Caius added. “Most of them are still half savage. If we meet Lucilla now in open war, we’ll lose.”
“Oh, please. What can a woman do?” Andred sneered. “A young girl sitting on the throne, completely untrained, unsuited for war. Trust me, Ballanor was fucking useless. She’ll be even worse.”
“Lucilla, maybe,” Usna agreed, “but not Tristan. He’s fought for longer and in worse places than any of us.”
Andred leaned back against the small table, nodding slowly. “Which is exactly why we should act now. No one suspects anything. The northern towns are empty and poorly defended. Tristan has been supreme commander for only a few weeks, while we have been preparing for this for half a year.”
“Truth,” whispered Daena from her place at the side of the tent, so quietly that Keely didn’t think anyone else had heard her.
Keely looked up into the other woman’s eyes and, unexpectedly, saw her own horror reflected there. Who was this woman who had blithely lied about Keely’s involvement in Ravenstone and now looked appalled at this talk of war?
Andred caught their look and stood with a growl. “Take Tor and the women away. We need to plan.”
“We should kill them now,” Caius repeated.
“No,” Andred disagreed. “We might need them—hostages are always useful, especially such politically connected hostages. Take them all to Daena’s tent and allocate two extra guards.”
Keely wiped her face with her hand, trying not to show the depth of her relief. Thank the Bard. They were leaving the tent alive. Even if they were being stuck with a woman who they absolutely could never trust, at least they were still breathing.
Usna muttered a low string of curses, but he gestured for Daena to lead the way and then grabbed Keely’s arm and pulled her out of the tent with Tor beside her.
