Amnesty

The pen snicked loudly in the quiet room when laid on the highly polished table at the center of the hall. Gythe followed the movement, maintaining a neutral expression even as her heart thumped. The amnesty was signed. Relief eased the tension of standing interspersed with the Mothili soldiers.

Almost.

Sige had insisted on this solidarity today, and Gythe hadn’t spent a decade following him to reach this day for nothing. Sige and Waltom rose on opposite sides of the table, leaned forward, and grasped hands.

“It is done.” Waltom said his voice echoing to the corners.

Sige inclined his head. “We are agreed.

Dropped their grip, the men straightened. Gythe’s followed unconsciously, trying to gain more height. The impossible was done. Kefalls and Mothili were at peace, and Kefalls was free. Her kindred were free.

Rowdy applause and calls broke throughout the chamber. Gythe raised her hands, ready to finally celebrate as cold metal closed around her right wrist and hands grasped her left arm. She stared at the cuffs as Sige’s voice echoed again, “All conditions shall be honored.”

Applause twisted into shouts of protest. Gythe turned to her left ready to strike, the movement dying when she saw the Kefalls soldier stood grimly avoiding her gaze. They’d known. The other cuff closed.

She twisted toward Sige. A cluster of guards encircling him, as he stood with his back to her. “What have you done?” Hands pulled at her, Mothili hands, pulling her away. “What have you done!”

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