She cleared her throat and tried to remember why she had come, tried to muster the courage to speak.
“I’ve come to make you an offer,” she finally managed to say, trying her best to stand proud, to make her voice sound confident. But despite herself, she could hear the tremor in her own voice and hoped she did not give away her fear.
“ You , make me an offer?” he asked.
He threw his head back and laughed, and the grating sound set her hairs on edge. It was the laugh of a monster, deep and hollow and filled with cruelty.
Luanda was caught off guard; she had expected to find Andronicus a broken and humbled man, prepared to either flee the Ring or surrender. She had not expected to find him so confident. He seemed more than unafraid—he seemed certain of victory. She could not understand it.
“Yes,” she said, clearing her throat, “an offer. I can deliver your enemy to you, Thorgrin. In return, you will name me Queen of the Ring, and put me in control of all that is.”
Andronicus smiled wide, surveying her.
“Will I?” he asked.
He stared her up and down, and there came a dark and growling noise from deep within his chest.
“You would betray your own people, then?” he asked. “Sell them all for the right to rule?”
He paused, staring right through her; his eyes twinkled, as if perhaps he approved of her.
“I like you,” he said. “You are a girl after my own heart.”
“I am the best chance you have,” she said defiantly, mustering her old confidence. “You are surrounded. And with his dragon and his Destiny Sword, Thor is decimating your armies. If you reject my offer, then by tomorrow Thor will have wiped out all your men. If you accept it, then by tomorrow, Thor will be in your custody.”
He examined her.
“And just how do you propose to deliver Thorgrin to me?” he asked.
She had been expecting this question, and she breathed deep, prepared.
“They trust me,” she replied. “I am a MacGil. I am family. I will send them a message telling them I have brokered a truce. That you have agreed to surrender. That Thorgrin must come alone to accept your surrender. When he does, you can capture him.”
Andronicus surveyed her.
“And why would they trust a traitor like you?” Andronicus asked.
She reddened, insulted by his words.
“They will trust me, because I’m family. And I am not a traitor. The Ring is mine by right. I am firstborn.”
Andronicus shook his head.
“Family, most of all, are least to be trusted.”
She bunched her fists, defiant, feeling her plan slipping away.
“They will trust me,” she said, “because they have no reason not to. And because they are a trusting people. And most of all, because it makes sense: they, of course, believe you will surrender. Who would think otherwise? You are completely surrounded. Half your men have been wiped out. Your surrender would be expected. My message should come as no surprise to them.”
“And when Thor arrives here,” he said, “just how do you propose I capture him? He who, as you say, has wiped out half my men?”
Luanda shrugged.
“That is not my problem. I will deliver the lamb to slaughter. I am sure you have your own ways of treachery.”
Andronicus looked her up and down, and as he did, she felt her heart pounding. Luanda wanted to be queen so bad she could taste it. Even more, she wanted to one-up her little sister; there was a small part of her that felt bad—but there was a much bigger part of her that felt entitled, that felt bad for herself. She could not imagine living in a kingdom where her little sister ruled over her, and if that meant selling out her own people, so be it. After all, they didn’t deserve it after what they had done to her.
Luanda shivered as Andronicus stepped closer, reached out and lay his long claws on her shoulder. She felt his slimy palms run over her bare skin, run up and down her throat.
“King MacGil should be proud of his issue,” he said. “Yes, very proud indeed.”
He sighed.
“I will accept your offer. And you will have your queenship.”
Luanda’s heart was pounding so fast, it was all a blur as she was ushered out of the tent, two guards coming up behind her and herding her out. The next thing she knew she was back outside, in the cold night, Bronson coming up beside her as they walked quickly away, back through the camp and towards their horses.
“What happened!?” Bronson asked impatiently.
Luanda walked quickly, her heart thumping, trying to gather her thoughts—and trying to figure out how best to word it to Bronson. She knew she had to say the right things if she were going to manipulate Bronson successfully.
“It went very well,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Andronicus has agreed to surrender.”
Bronson looked at her, puzzled.
“I have a hard time believing that,” he replied. “He agreed to surrender? As easily as that?”
Luanda wheeled on Bronson and put on her fiercest face and voice, desperate to convince him.
“Andronicus is outnumbered,” she said coldly. “In another day he will be dead. He was grateful for the chance. I was right. You were wrong. He has conditions: his army must be allowed to leave the Ring unharmed. He will forfeit himself as a prisoner. And he will surrender only to Thor, and to Thor alone. He has asked us to bring our offer to Thor at once, before the attack at dawn. This is our chance to make peace, to save lives, and to oust his men once and for all.”
Bronson stared back at her, and she could see his mind working, see him thinking it through. He was smart, but not nearly as smart as her, and his gullible streak worked in her favor.
“Well,” he said, “I guess that sounds like a fair offer. All he’s asking for is for his men to leave safely. As you say, it will spare a lot of lives on both sides, and liberate the Ring. It sounds reasonable. I can’t imagine that Thor and Gwendolyn would not want to agree to this. You have done well to serve the Ring as you have. What you have done here is selfless. You have saved many lives, and your family will be proud. You were right, and I was wrong.”
Inside, Luanda smiled. She had deceived him.
“Go then,” she urged. “Be our messenger. Deliver the message to Thor and the others. I will await you here. Ride throughout the night and don’t stop until you deliver them the good news. The fate of the Ring now rests on your shoulders.”