Page 69 of The War of Four Winters

Niro's hand gripped my arm with bruising force, the only thing keeping me from leaping to my feet. "Steady," he hissed, his voice barely audible. "We can't react. Not yet."

It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to call out, not to break my cover and run to Ruith's side. My vision narrowed to him alone as he was led to the center of the chamber.

He stood alone in the circle of judgment, his hands bound before him with silver chains. Bruises of varying ages marked his face. His clothing was simple but formal, a deep blue tunic and black trousers bearing the Deepfrost insignia rather than his chosen Starfall colors. Despite his obvious injuries and the humiliation of chains, he held himself with the same regal bearing I remembered, his spine straight, his gaze direct and unflinching as he faced his accusers.

Niro's grip on my arm didn't loosen as we settled back into our seats. His eyes tracked the guards, the exits, calculating angles and distances with the practiced efficiency of a battlefield commander.

"We need to leave," I whispered, my voice barely audible as I leaned toward him. "Now. While everyone's distracted. We can find another way—"

"No," Niro replied firmly, his face an impassive mask, though his words carried steel beneath their quiet delivery. "This changes nothing. We continue as planned."

"But Ruith—"

"Is exactly why we must proceed," he said, cutting me off. "Our mission just became more vital, not less. Think, Elindir. The Assembly is convened. Most clan representatives are present. This may be our only chance to address them all at once."

I forced myself to breathe, to push back against the panic and desperate need to act that threatened to overwhelm my judgment. He was right, of course. Running to Ruith now would accomplish nothing except getting us both killed. We had come too far to abandon our purpose at the first obstacle, no matter how devastating.

As my eyes swept the chamber, I began to recognize the political landscape taking shape. Though I'd never been inside the Assembly, Ruith had described the clan dynamics in detail during our strategy sessions at Calibarra. We already had allies here—Stoneriver, who had supplied us since the first days of Ruith's rebellion; the vacant Runecleaver seat that rightfully belonged to Katyr; the Duskfell position that should have been Daraith's by birthright; the Northfire and Craiggybottom representatives whose clans had already declared for Ruith.

Five clans whose loyalties already tilted toward Ruith, even if some of their representatives here might be Tarathiel's appointees rather than their true clan leadership. We needed only two more to deny Tarathiel his conviction. The Wolfhearts had remained officially aligned with Tarathiel, but I knew through Taelyn that her father had grown increasingly uncomfortable with the Primarch's methods. And then there were the Redrocks, who had hesitated longer than any other clan before declaring for Tarathiel—clearly harboring their own doubts.

Seven out of twelve would be enough to save Ruith's life. If I could make them understand the threat Michail posed to all elven-kind, I might sway not only Ruith's fate but the entire course of this war.

"You're right," I whispered back to Niro. "The Assembly vote is what matters now."

I watched as Ruith was positioned in the center of the chamber. The formal proceedings began with the herald reciting the litany of charges. I knew I should listen, should note each accusation to better formulate our approach to the clan representatives, but my focus remained fixed on Ruith.

"We need to approach them individually," Niro murmured, following my gaze across the gathered representatives. "Public testimony would only force them to maintain their allegiance to Tarathiel. But in private..."

I nodded in understanding. Politics was never about public declarations. It was about whispered deals in shadowed alcoves, private assurances, and carefully balanced threats. We needed to work in the shadows, not the spotlight.

"The Wolfheart representative first," I suggested. "Taelyn's father has reason to doubt Tarathiel. Then Redrock."

"We'll need more than words to sway some of them," Niro warned. "The conservative factions won't care about human threats, no matter how dire."

"Then we give them something they do care about," I replied, my voice hardening with resolve. "Power. Protection. Vengeance." I glanced at him. "Even fear if necessary."

Something like approval flickered in Niro's eyes.

"The trial could last days, perhaps longer, if we introduce complications. But once the final votes are cast..." He let the implication hang between us.

Days to save Ruith. Days to convince a majority of the most powerful elves in the realm to defy the Primarch and spare his rebellious son. Days to outmaneuver centuries of political alliances with nothing but truth, persuasion, and whatever leverage we could muster.

As the formal reading of charges continued, I studied each clan representative in turn, memorizing faces, noting who paid attention and who seemed distracted, who leaned toward Tarathiel's faction and who maintained careful neutrality. These would be our targets in the coming days, each requiring a unique strategy.

When my gaze returned to Ruith, I found him watching the gallery with the calculated assessment of a strategist identifying resources. Even now, chained and on trial for his life, his mind worked on solutions rather than surrender.

As if sensing my attention, his eyes swept the observer's gallery and, for just a moment, found mine. No flash of recognition crossed his features, no change in his carefully neutral expression. But a subtle shift in his posture told me everything I needed to know.

He was fighting. So would I.

"We'll begin tonight," I told Niro as Tarathiel rose to formally open the trial proceedings. "Once the day's session ends."

Niro nodded once, his eyes already tracking the movements of guards, noting the locations of exits, planning our first approaches. "First, we observe. Learn the patterns. Identify vulnerabilities."

I settled back in my seat, the initial shock of seeing Ruith now transformed into cold determination. We had infiltrated the most secure building in D'thallanar. Reaching a few clan representatives in their private chambers would be challenging, but not impossible.

And I would do whatever it took to save Ruith's life—even if it meant making deals with the very elves who had once approved my enslavement.

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