“I agree,” she said. “We should fight.”
“Fight?!” Benil Branwood spluttered, smacking his hands on the table. “With what army? With what forces?”
“We have some of the best mercenaries this side of Autreth,” Maya said.
“Some! Certainly not enough to stand up to the forces they’ve already gathered,” Benil continued, shaking his head. “To fight against them would be a death sentence for all these mercenaries of yours, Maya. They know that, and they knowweknow it.”
“Which is why they won’t be expecting us to fight back!” Yue interjected. “We strike before they can and get the upper hand.”
“And I take it you’ll be among those doing the fighting?” Ellisa retorted, for the first time sounding frustrated. Yue visibly bristled.
“Enough,” Cyrus interrupted, holding up a hand. “We came here to discuss what to do, not argue with each other.”
“Yes,” Adrissu sighed, speaking for the first time. “Let’s try not to fight with each other.”
They fell into an uncomfortable silence once again. Adrissu felt their eyes on him for a long moment, before they fell back to Cyrus, waiting for his cue.
“Let’s go over what’s actually in the terms for now,” Cyrus sighed, flipping through several sheets of parchment in front of him.
They spent hours discussing the terms, arguing over what they should and should not accept, but almost everyone’s minds already seemed made up: those in favor of a fight wouldn’t budge, and those who sought peaceful negotiations with the Federation were unable to change their minds.
Adrissu thought he was the only one that truly felt torn. In his gut, he did not want to bend his knee to invading forces, whether physically or metaphorically. He was too proud to bow to anyone. But the rest of him trembled in fear at the thought of Ruan going to war, fighting, getting hurt—dying. It drowned out every other instinct in him, as much as it wounded his ego.
Finally, it came to a vote. Cyrus stood at the head of the table and called their names, starting on the right and moving clockwise.
“Maya. For or against Gennemont’s terms?”
“Against.” She nearly spat the word, without a beat of silence or hesitation.
“Benil. For or against?”
“For,” he answered just as quickly. Under the table he was wringing his hands together over and over.
“Abe. For or against?”
Abe Pelagon was silent for a moment. An old human with no hair left on his head, his family partially owned the mines along with the Branwoods, which guaranteed him a seat on the council. Yet Adrissu thought that the man almost resented the responsibility; he was by far the most withdrawn of anyone on the council, and it was not uncommon for him to go an entire meeting without speaking, or else adding only a sentence here and there. Today had been no exception; Adrissu thought he had spoken no more than three times during these discussions. His sunken-in eyes flickered across the table as he considered the question and his fellow councilors, then he finally cleared his throat and and said in his raspy baritone,
“Against.”
A murmur of surprise crossed the table, and Adrissu felt himself begin to sweat. He had hoped the old man would not want a fight, but...
“Ellisa,” Cyrus said, moving on before Adrissu could dwell on Abe’s choice for too long. “For or against?”
“For,” she replied softly. In contrast to Benil, her hands were clasped firmly together and set on the table, but Adrissu could see her fingers quivering.
“Shefali. For or against?”
“For,” the woman answered. Next to Yue, she was the youngest on the council, but she owned the only large-scale fishery operating in Polimnos, inheriting her seat when her father died and left his business to her. Adrissu was not surprised at her answer; though everyone around the table was successful to varying degrees, she perhaps had the most business sense among them, and the most to lose if Gennemont’s reprisal led to a second destruction of Polimnos.
“Yue. For or against?”
“Against,” he said, his voice tight. His arms were folded across his broad chest.
“Adrissu. For or against?”
Adrissu released a shuddering breath he had not realized he’d been holding. He wanted to roar with the frustration and rebellion boiling in his chest. He wanted to fly to Gennemont and rip the heads off the Lords of the Federation himself.
“For,” he hissed through gritted teeth. From the corner of his eye, he saw Maya’s head whip to look at him, the heat of her gaze prickling his skin; but he kept his eyes firmly on the table in front of him. Nothing mattered more than keeping Ruan safe, he told himself. He was the only thing that mattered.
