Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,54

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Lazarus watched him for a moment. “Do you understand what I am asking of you, Thorne?”

With a sigh, the Cisean leader returned the mug to the table. “We will sign a treaty between our countries before you ascend,” he replied. “When you become the next king of Norcasta, I will announce my alliance and support of your rule. That should help to quell the royal brats.”

Lazarus shook his head. “No, Thorne. I am not asking that you ally yourself with Norcasta.” Thorne frowned in confusion, his features smoothing when it finally occurred to him what Lazarus was really getting at.

“What is it that you’re asking, my friend?” he questioned slowly.

“I am asking you to ally yourself with me. Should I rule Norcasta, your alliance entails the country, but otherwise—should things go … badly—you will support me, as your friend.”

Thorne scrubbed a hand down his face. “You do not ask for much, do you?” he said, sarcasm apparent. “You are strong, Lazarus. I give you that, but what else will my people get? I cannot offer you this level of friendship for free.”

Lazarus grinned, a shock of teeth that looked more like a predator’s warning than true amusement. “I would not ask anything of you for free, Thorne.”

Thorne, as if unable to help himself, sat back. A weaker man might have fled. Lazarus had to admire his own choice in ally. The Cisean leader would be a great enemy for any man and therefore, a formidable friend for him to have in the near future.

“What are you offering?” Thorne asked, suddenly sounding far more tired.

“My own loyalty to your people, Thorne. I will take care of them as if they were my own. That, in itself, is a great price. Should you require aid—I come. Should the winters be rough—I will send provisions. Should you need almost anything to make this friendship agreeable—I will supply it.”

Thorne scratched his chin and shook his head. “Gods, I hope you become king, Lazarus. Or else my people would think I was weak in agreeing to something like this so readily.” Nevertheless, Thorne held his hand out and Lazarus reached across the table and took it in his own.

“Your people will realize that I am a far greater ally than an enemy,” Lazarus said.

Thorne grimaced as they shook hands. “I don’t doubt that.”

“I will swear my fealty to you and you to me,” Lazarus confirmed. “We will not be enemies, but … friends.” His grin dropped as his lips curled back in discomfort.

Lazarus did not have friends. Not really. He had Draeven who was like a brother to him. His left-hand. His greatest ally. He had other vassals, servants and staff, but not friends. Then again, this was more than a friendship. It was an alliance. One that might save him his empire when the time came.

Thorne’s booming laughter echoed in the small room once more. “You look as though you’ve eaten a bad choice of meat, my friend. Do not worry, I will not ask you to repeat it so much.”

Lazarus pulled his hand away. “You may shout it from the rooftops if you prefer,” he said. “It does not matter to me what you call our alliance so long as you keep your end of the bargain.”

Thorne stood up from the table and Lazarus followed. “The Cisean people are a proud race. We always keep our promises.”

Lazarus nodded and as they crossed the threshold heading through the hut back to the throne room, he spoke once more. “There is something else.”

Thorne looked back over his shoulder. “Oh?”

“I have another purpose for coming so early,” Lazarus said. “I need use of your springs.”

“Is it for the girl?” Thorne asked.

“Yes.” Lazarus kept his expression impassive as they entered the throne room. A warrior stood just outside the main doorway. Lazarus eyed him speculatively, but if he intended to trust Thorne with his country, he needed to learn to trust the man’s intuition about his own people.

“If possible, I would like to request the use of a stone.”

Thorne turned and settled back onto his heavy throne, their conversation having come full circle. “I will require answers for something like that,” he finally said.

Lazarus narrowed his eyes on the Cisean leader. “What are your questions?”

“The girl,” Thorne stated. “What is she? What is her power?”

“She is a dark Maji,” Lazarus said simply.

Thorne frowned, not pleased by his way of answering. “I am not stupid, Lazarus. Any Cisean can tell that her magic is dark. The power leaks