Aaron, containing the thrill of excitement that threatened to leap out of his throat, merely nodded. “So you’re out for revenge on Samheed. Well, he certainly has it coming.”
“Yes,” the general replied, drawing a finger across the wide scar on his neck, “he certainly does.”
“You know, General Blair,” Aaron said, “you and I have very similar goals. If we worked together, don’t you think the battle day would come a lot sooner?”
The Quillitary soldier paused in his work and squinted up at the general, then hurriedly resumed working.
General Blair narrowed his eyes at Aaron. “Follow me,” he said abruptly. “Please, High Priest,” he added diplomatically.
Aaron, smiling inwardly, nodded to Liam to pick up the bag of goods, and together the two followed the general into his house. It looked very much like Haluki’s house, not nearly as sparse as the Necessary housing.
“Sit.”
Liam held out a chair for Aaron, then set the bag on the table. Aaron urged him with a nod to empty the bag, so Liam began setting the fruit, vegetables, and nuts in a makeshift display that would, with any luck, keep General Blair on speaking terms.
“You don’t have any Quillitary soldiers in here protecting you?” Aaron asked, surprised.
“They saw who you were when you arrived. Sorry to say no one’s afraid of you.” He laughed.
Aaron frowned and sat up straighter. He opened his mouth to explain just why they all should be afraid of him, then hesitated.
Liam, whose senses had finally returned to him, stepped in. He waved his hand over the goods. “Twenty pieces of fruit, a cornucopia of vegetables, and enough nuts to last you many weeks,” he said.
The general picked up a handful of nuts. He broke one open with a small hammer, picked the meat from it, and tasted it. “Not bad,” he admitted. He ate another. And another.
Aaron forgot about being offended and stared at the almonds, lost in thought.
“So, High Priest,” the general continued while chewing and swallowing, “you said you know something about engines. I rather doubt it, but perhaps you’ll surprise me.” The general popped the rest of the handful of nuts into his mouth and then grabbed an orange and peeled it. “Never seen so much food in one place before,” he muttered. “Sure beats having to send someone out to the Favored Farm every day for four measly items. Waste of time.”
Liam looked sidelong at Aaron, who was clearly concentrating deeply on the pile of nuts on the table. “It surely does,” Liam said. “High Priest Aaron, do you have anything to say about engines?”
Aaron startled. “What?” He looked at Liam.
“The general asked you what you know about engines.”
“Oh. I, uh . . .” Aaron trailed off, still deep in thought. And then he looked straight at General Blair. “General, I think I can fix the oil issue. It’ll help you get the fleet of broken-down vehicles back in service again so you can be prepared to fight Artimé once more.” He leaned in. “If I do that for you, will you work with me on a plan of attack?”
The general looked even more skeptical than before.
Before General Blair could say no, Aaron hastened to tell the general about his plan to enclose all of Artimé into Quill once he’d taken over the magical land, and he promised the general a section of the mansion, should they succeed.
At those words, Liam’s lips parted a little in surprise, since by offering a portion of the mansion to the general, Aaron ensured the governors a smaller stake in the place. But he said nothing.
When Aaron had finished, he sat back. “What do you think? Can we work together?”
The general scratched his chin and glared. “I’m still not convinced working with you would do me any good. You’ll probably mess everything up. But more importantly, how do I know you aren’t a coward? Will you have the courage to do what needs to be done in order to succeed? Your track record is pretty bad.”
“I managed to become high priest,” Aaron said. “That doesn’t seem very bad to me.” Still, a wave of fear washed through him. He couldn’t screw this up—it was his last option. “Look, General Blair. It’s true I’ve made mistakes; I’ve already admitted that. But I’ve learned from them. You can trust me. I’ll—I’ll—I’ll do whatever you say,” he said recklessly.
“Oh, will you now?” For the first time, General Blair smiled, showing his sharp, yellowed teeth. “Prove it.”
“I will,” Aaron said. “What do you want me to do?”
The general put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, staring hard at Aaron, his hideous scar pulsing to the beat of Aaron’s own heart. “Son, do you know the reason why we lost the battle last time?”
Aaron tried not to flinch, but the scar was getting closer and closer to Aaron’s face. “Because Justine was killed—”
“No!” General Blair shouted, slamming his hand down on the table.
Aaron and Liam jumped.
“No,” the man said again, pointing at Aaron’s face. “Not because Justine was murdered.” He stood abruptly and lurched forward, his hands on the center of the table and his face inches from Aaron’s. “We lost because we couldn’t sneak up on Artimé. We walked right through the gate, our vehicles going single file into their battlefield, and we couldn’t get back out again. We lost,” he seethed, “because the High Priest Justine wouldn’t let me do what I needed to do to succeed.”