Negotiations

Outside the door stood a tall man with three civilians behind him—two men and a woman. Twelve soldiers stood beyond them, all nearly as large as Donavan.

Atalanta stepped forward, keeping Jonas and Donavan at her sides. Artemis, Miranda, and Daphne stayed at a distance, ready to use their bows.

The man in front was broad-shouldered, gray at the temples, and dressed in a dark coat.

He must be the Governor.

The woman is his wife?

Atalanta studied the soldiers.

Large. Well-equipped. Disciplined enough to stand quietly.

Their hands are tight on their weapons. Their eyes shift between me, Donavan, and Jonas—even the blood on the street.

They are afraid, not cautious.

Not one of them recognizes the terror that is Artemis. She could wipe half of them out before they even noticed she had drawn her bow.

Soldiers, not knights.

Atalanta looked at the Governor.

His gaze was fixed on Artemis.

He knows.

He knows exactly what she’s capable of.

“These are the people who defeated the Knights Guard?” Even as he spoke to Atalanta, his eyes never left Artemis.

“Yes.”

His eyes finally drifted to the rest, then to Atalanta. “How many did you lose?”

“None.”

He looked down at the bloodstained street. “That is not what I heard.”

“Then you heard wrong.”

His eyes returned to Atalanta. “I am Governor Rhine. These are my ministers.”

The woman is a minister?

“I am Atalanta. These are my people.”

Rhine nodded toward the blood in the street. “The Order sent men after you.”

“So it seems.”

“They must hate you very much to send twelve men into our city.”

“I apologize for the mess.”

“All is forgiven.” He smiled. “In fact, we would like to offer you our protection.”

“Protection?”

“You are obviously being hunted by the Order. They sent twelve yesterday. Tomorrow, they may send twelve hundred. Stay here. Be part of our army. You can be knights.”

Atalanta studied him.

This doesn’t make sense.

Twelve of the Knights Guard did not follow us into Tigeria…

They were already here.

Her eyes moved to the soldiers behind him.

They are afraid.

So is he.

But not of us…

“How many have you lost?”

Rhine’s eyes widened. “What?”

“How many men have you lost to the bandits’”

His expression settled back into an imitation of calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He’s smiling again—but it’s too late. I saw the fear in his eyes.

“Let me rephrase.” Atalanta pointed toward the bloodstained street. “How many men have you lost to the Knights Guard?”

He did not speak.

“Those men didn’t follow us into the city,” she continued. “They were already here. We were just a convenient target.”

“That is not—”

“If you can’t tell us the truth, then we have nothing to talk about.”

Atalanta turned toward the tavern door. Her people followed.

“Five ministers!” the woman shouted. “Nineteen soldiers.”

“Minister Elizabeth!” The Governor turned sharply toward her.

Elizabeth didn’t flinch.

“We tried your way. It isn’t going to work.”

Rhine’s jaw tightened. “Tigeria won’t beg—”

“Beg?” Atalanta smiled. “Not beg.”

She opened the tavern door. “Negotiate. Over tea—and maybe turnovers, if the children left any.”

She held the door open.

“Come inside.”

***

The twelve soldiers emerged from the tavern first, followed by two ministers. Governor Rhine came next.

Elizabeth was the last to leave. She was wearing a broad smile.

“Don’t be so smug, Elizabeth.”

“Don’t be upset with me, Governor. I’m not the one who ate the last hostenberry turnover.”

“The apple was fine.” Rhine sighed. “You did it.”

“We did it,” Elizabeth corrected.

The older minister shook his head. “I still can’t believe they agreed.”

“It still wasn’t cheap,” the younger minister said.

“Twenty schools a year,” the older minister said. “Fifty places in every school reserved for children whose families cannot pay.”

“That’s not cheap,” Rhine said. “But at least we aren’t throwing gold at soldiers.”

“They’re still getting paid.”

“A regular officer’s salary.” Rhine laughed.

“And they’re training our soldiers,” Elizabeth added.

The younger minister shook his head. “They refused a thousand gold.”

“I thought they were going to throw us out,” Rhine admitted.

Elizabeth smiled. “I knew they would never take the gold.”

Rhine raised an eyebrow. “You knew?”

“Tea and turnovers.” Elizabeth smiled. “An officer’s pay is more than enough for that.”

“They’re warriors,” the younger minister said. “I thought gold was what warriors wanted.”

Elizabeth looked toward the tavern.

“They are heroes. They’ve spent their lives fighting for people who couldn’t protect themselves. They don’t want to be paid simply to keep fighting. They want something worth fighting for.”

Rhine was quiet.

Elizabeth continued, “We just had to give them a reason to believe Tigeria could become that.”

“We aren’t changing the country.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Tigeria is always changing. We’re just deciding what kind of change comes next.”

Rhine gave her a skeptical look.

Elizabeth shrugged. “Fifteen years ago, our predecessors abolished slavery because Tigeria could not survive as it was.”

“And it worked,” the older minister said.

“No. We worked.” Elizabeth glanced at him. “Abolishing slavery gave people a reason to stay—and gave others a reason to come here. They built lives here.”

She looked back at the tavern. “Now we have a chance to do it again.”

Rhine smiled faintly. “Twenty schools a year?”

“Twenty schools a year.”

“Fifty poor children in every one.”

“Fifty children who might otherwise never have had the chance.”

The older minister shook his head. “And in exchange, we get six warriors who can train an army.”

“Six warriors who have defeated armies,” Elizabeth smiled.

Rhine laughed. “Okay, Elizabeth, grin as smugly as you want—you’ve earned it.”

Elizabeth did.