The Truth Over The Wall

Chapter 39 ( Part 2 )

Amara travelled with four witches, two on each side of her as she walked into camp. She kept her gaze straight ahead and ignored any faces she might have known in another life. Not that anyone would have been brave enough to walk up to the Witch Queen for a bit of a chit chat, remembering the good old days.

On instinct she raised her head and looked to her right as though she sensed him. Sure enough, Lord Arnold had walked out of his tent, followed by Sarah. Despite the circumstances she gave him a small smile as if to reassure him she was still there and his own expression lightened into a wide smile, pleased.

Dominic had just been about to get up when a guard announced their guests, the Witch Queen Amara and her attendants.

Four witches dressed in blue cloaks, their hoods pulled low over their faces walked in first. The two in front took a step further into the room, and one to the side so that when Amara entered she was surrounded on all four sides.

"They're not my attendants," was the first thing Amara said as she threw her own hood back, "they're my councilors. In case anyone in the present company feels uncomfortable speaking before them, rest assured they can keep secrets."

Before anyone could say anything General Baedly sputtered angrily. Amara turned to look at him and raised her eyebrows, "Pardon," she said, "I didn't quite catch that."

"It's absurd," he shouted, jumping up suddenly, and startling the people sitting around him, "is what I said, for a witch to just walk into our midst like it's nothing. What's more so, is that you'd go on to reassure us that we can trust your councilors, when the fact is, milady we don't even have reason to trust you!"

Amara's eyes narrowed as she studied his angry, red face even as he glared at her, and continued to breathe through small outraged puffs. She cut everyone's protests short when she pointed her finger at him and said, "I know you. You were there at Marabeck, the night Fiona attacked."

"Of course I was," General Baedly snapped, "all true blooded Tafahans were there for their Princess. But you still haven't answered my question! How can we trust that you mean us no harm?"

"And I think you were on the battlefield as well." Amara said cupping her chin thoughtfully.

"I was indeed!" was General Baedly's indignant response. Amara's eyes lost their humor as she surmised coldly, "So that's twice I've saved your skin."

Alistair seemed unnaturally inclined for coughing as he once more suffered a fit. He waved away everyone's concern though, clearing his throat and sitting up.

"I should think," Amara continued, "that's plenty reason to trust me. However, you are at your leisure." She turned away from General Baedly to face Dominic and Hanalea squarely, "I've not come to make any quarrel. I've come to discuss the possibility of a truce and an alliance that will be mutually beneficial."

Dominic thought back to the private council he had held with his own people earlier in the afternoon. He had made the situation clear to his own people. Odds were? The Tafahans and Marabeckans would not accept a truce with witches because for them the word Witch had been permanently affixed with the name Fiona. And Fiona was the enemy.

And if such a situation were to arise, Dominic had explained. Would they support him, Dominic, if he made such an offer to the witches anyway? He had looked around at the faces from one soldier to Lord Alban to Lord Arnold, and had turned back around to gauge Emery's reaction, what did he think?

The mutual consensus, as delivered by Sir Emery, was that if Lady Amara Eberhardt were really leading the witches, and if she were to offer an alliance then they would stand by Dominic to accept it. Because Lady Amara, Emery had said loud enough to annoy Lord Alban, was one of their own.