The Right Side of History (Schooled In Magic Book 22) by Christopher Nuttall (ebook pc reader .txt) 📕

a commoner. Emily had made it clear, to Silent, that she could do whatever she needed to do to defend herself, but... she cursed under her breath. Perhaps it would have been smarter to insist on Hedrick coming with them. The rebels hadn’t so much as bothered to search her saddlebags.

The horse slowed as they rode through the remains of a village and past an aristocratic mansion that had been probably been invaded and looted before being set on fire. There were crops in the fields that could be gathered, she noted, if the rebels had time to send parties out to do the work. She was fairly sure the peasants had hidden in the forest, if they hadn’t fled to the cities or... she shook her head. There was no way to know. She’d have to advise the rebels to collect the crops before it was too late. They’d start rotting soon enough.

“Watch out,” Lady Barb said. “We have company.”

Emily glanced up. A troop of cavalrymen were blocking the road. They moved forward, brandishing weapons. Emily hastily checked her wards. She thought she recognized the pennant and livery from the last war, but that was meaningless. The army that had fought beside her, in the Blighted Lands, had broken up as soon as the war came to an end. The cavalrymen were no longer on her side. She wasn’t sure, even, they’d take the time to listen to her before opening fire.

She held up her hands to show they were empty as the cavalry approached. They eyed her warily, their disdain clearly visible. They were aristocracy and she... they didn’t know her, but they’d seen her ride. They knew she wasn’t an aristocrat. They were practically born in the saddle. Alassa had been a toddler when she’d been put on a horse for the very first time.

The leader scowled at her. “Who are you?”

“Lady Emily, Special Representative of the White Council,” Emily said. She was tempted to list all her titles, but she didn’t have time. Instead, she handed over her official documents and the safe conduct passes. “Please escort us to the Crown Prince.”

The leader’s face twisted through an entire string of emotions before he nodded. “Follow me,” he said, as his men fanned out around them. “And don’t slow down.”

Emily felt sweat trickling down her back as they started galloping down the road. A handful of other scouts were clearly visible, suggesting there were others hidden where they couldn’t be easily seen. She saw a flash of light in the distance, probably a warning that the cavalry patrol was returning ahead of time. Crown Prince Dater had been quite interested in modern technology, such as it was. He’d certainly be aware of the danger of sending horsemen charging into a mass of enemy guns.

Her arms and legs were aching by the time the campsite finally came into view. The army had taken over a mid-sized town, then surrounded it with tents, trenches and barricades. It was hard to be sure - Emily was no expert - but it looked as though the army was strikingly short on infantry. They normally outnumbered the cavalry quite heavily, yet here...

She put the thought out of her mind as the troop slowed to a halt. A pair of men in fancy uniforms hailed the leader and held a brief conversation with him, then pointed to a large tent on the wrong side of the defense lines. Emily concealed her annoyance as they led her to the tent, then explained she wouldn’t be allowed into the camp itself unless she pledged loyalty to the Crown Prince. The tent was neutral ground. She scrambled off the horse, passed the reins to a blond squire and hurried into the tent. The Crown Prince had clearly put some thought into prospective negotiations. He’d had the interior designed to imply the parties would be meeting as equals.

Interesting, Emily thought. Someone had also set up a tiny washroom, complete with buckets of cold water. She took advantage of the opportunity to freshen up. Does he really see the rebels as equals?

The flap opened. “Lady Emily,” Crown Prince Dater said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

“And you,” Emily said, as Lady Barb stepped outside. The Crown Prince had always struck her as a little unimaginative, but the war - and the revolution - had probably loosened him up a little. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

“Indeed,” Crown Prince Dater said. “Triune informed Hedrick and myself that you were behind the rebellion. Is that actually true?”

Emily flushed at the grim reminder she was no closer to figuring out who had backed the rebellion and why. “No,” she said. She took a moment to compose her thoughts as something struck her. “Triune is here?”

“He escaped the city,” Crown Prince Dater said. “Why?”

“I need to ask him why he thinks I am behind the revolution,” Emily said. She forced herself to think. If she suggested Triune had betrayed his king, the royalists would torture him to death. Her word would be enough to condemn him to death. And she didn’t know he’d betrayed the king. “I didn’t realize I’d been blamed until Hedrick informed me.”

“I sent him to recruit help,” Crown Prince Dater said. “Where is he now?”

“In the city,” Emily said. She reached into her bag and produced the letters. “He sent you a note. And I’ve also brought a formal letter from the rebel council.”

“Charming,” Crown Prince Dater said. He frowned. “Is my father truly dead?”

“I’m afraid so,” Emily said. She was surprised he didn’t already know. Perhaps, just perhaps, he’d hoped for the best. And... politically, if he declared himself king while his father was still alive, he’d wind up in deep shit. In hindsight, executing the king might have been a serious mistake. Royal legitimacy had passed to the Crown Prince. “I’m sorry.”

Crown Prince Dater said nothing as he scanned the letters, one by one. His face was impassive. Emily suspected he’d already mourned