“I’ll be there,” I say. Delphinium welcomed us with open arms five months ago. The people here welcomed the Scholars too.

But then Livia freed the Scholars. The Commandant sent assassins for our allies and my nephew. The troops haven’t been paid in weeks. We began rationing to prevent starvation, as Keris has a chokehold on all the roads south of the Argent Hills.

And I bear more bad news.

As I pass him, Faris peers behind me. “Where’s your little archer?”

I know who he’s speaking of. Laia’s sudden departure from our group stung. Part of me respects her lack of sentimentality. She had a mission. She did what she had to do.

Still, I wish she’d at least said goodbye.

“Little archer? She has better aim than you, you ass.” I punch Faris in the arm, and he winces. “And she’s braver. I didn’t see you delivering a baby in the middle of a siege. As I recall, you were trying not to faint. Dex, catch me up.”

Dex slows his stride to match my limp. “Grímarr attacked three more supply trains. Burned them down to the axel. His men were screaming the same thing they’ve shouted during every raid.”

“Ik tachk mort fid iniqant fi. Have you found anyone to translate it?”

“It’s archaic Karkaun,” Dex says. “I’ll keep working on it. I do have good news: My uncle sent word that he’ll be here in a week. He brings a thousand men.”

“Thank the skies.” That will swell our numbers to a little more than ten thousand, and that’s with the Scholars fighting. It’s nothing against the hundreds of thousands of men Keris commands. But she’s the one who taught me that there are many ways to win a war. Not all of them rely on superior numbers.

“We’ll have to cut rations again,” Dex adds.

“Gens Lenida is sending us grain, potatoes, and apples from their reserves,” I say. “Dispatch a platoon of guards to meet it. That shipment will buy us time.”

“Time for what, Shrike?” Dex says. “What’s our play? The Paters will ask you the same question. Are you ready to answer it?”

Apparently not. “Anything else?”

“A request from the Scholar council. And—” He considers his words. “The Ankanese have sent an ambassador. No escort, no horse even. Just appeared at the gates this morning out of thin air. Said you’d be back by midday and that he’d see only you.”

My father visited Ankana long ago. They think we’re barbaric, Father told me upon his return. They are so far beyond us that I’m surprised they agreed to see me.

“Shall I have him wait until the Empress Regent can see him too?” Dex asks.

I shake my head. Livia has enough to deal with. “Send him to my quarters. Immediately.”

“Perhaps a physician first?” Dex’s brow furrows at my limp. “Lieutenant Silvius arrived from Navium while you were away. Rode with your uncle Jans.” Dex lingers a moment on the physician’s name, and I hide a smile. At least there’s still some joy left in this world.

“I heal quickly,” I say. “But give Silvius quarters in the castle. In Navium, he made do with limited supplies, as I recall. We need that kind of skill. And get me that translation. Look into Karkaun customs and rites—it felt more like a chant than a war cry.”

By the time the Ankanese ambassador knocks at my door, I’ve washed the road off and changed into my ceremonial armor. Most of my shallow wounds have healed, and the hole in my leg has stopped bleeding.

“Greetings, Blood Shrike.” The man is my height, with deep brown skin and curly gray hair. He speaks Serran with the barest trace of an accent. His slippered feet allow him to walk silently, but his blue tunic, heavily embroidered with silver animals and flowers, rustles as he bows.

“I am Ambassador Remi E’twa.” Despite the fact that he has no weapon, there’s power in the breadth of his shoulders and in his purposeful gait. He is a fighter.

“You have the look of your father,” he says as I close the door. “I met with him, long ago. He was a good man. Open to our ways. I taught him the words of parting. Emifal Firdaant.”

“What do they mean?” I ask.

“‘May death claim me first.’” At my expression, Remi smiles. “Your father was confused too. But then he spoke of his wife and daughters, and he understood. I felt great sorrow at his death.”

I gesture for the ambassador to join me in my sitting room. “Your people have long avoided dealings with the Empire. What has changed?”

The ambassador appears surprised at my bluntness, perhaps used to pleasantries.

“You have outlawed slavery, Blood Shrike,” he says. “A requirement of any dealings with our nation. If you can swear that it will remain so, I am here to open trade between Emperor Zacharias and Ankana, and negotiate an agreement. As a token of our goodwill, I have brought a dozen Ankanese sappers—”

We have army engineers, I nearly say, but bite my tongue. Among all of my men, I can likely count a half dozen sappers. Keris has the rest.

“And portable trebuchets,” he says. “Smaller and lighter than what you had at Antium, but just as powerful. You will need them, I believe, for the coming battles.”

His presumption rankles me, but considering I have few sappers and no trebuchets, I swallow my annoyance. “You see the future,” I say. “Like the Augurs.”

“Our gift is not stolen.” Remi is pointedly neutral. “It is earned after long years of study. We see impressions. The Augurs saw details.”

“When you look at me, what do you see?”

It is not the question I mean to ask. But it is what I have wanted to know from the moment Dex told me the ambassador was here.

“When I look at you now, I see Dil-Ewal,” he says. “She who heals. When I look at your future, I see—” He pauses and shrugs. “Something else.”

He transitions smoothly into the trade agreement, laying out what he wants in return for the sappers and trebuchets. I agree to sell him grain and livestock—skies knows where I will get them from—and tell him the crown will consider the sale of scims, which appears to satisfy him. After he is gone, a knock sounds at my door.

I open it to find my sister’s head bent at an awkward angle. Zacharias clutches a hank of her hair and pulls at it with happy vigor.

“What madness possessed you to leave your hair down?” I tickle Zak’s foot and he releases Livia and flops toward me with a “ba!”

Livia says he’s too young to be speaking. But I think he knows who loves him best. When I take him, he reaches for my braid, but only gives it a light pat before grabbing my face instead.