“We won’t fight Ampara unless the alternative is untenable. But if it comes to the point where we have no choice but to resist, I want us to be ready.” The village leader turns to me. “How good a fighter are you?”

“Good enough.” I suppose I could tell him more. That I’m quick with dual swords, though my wrists have only recently regained their old strength. That I can shoot an Amparan cavalry man in the throat and hit two more before the first one falls off his horse. That I’m an aggressive grappler who prefers to choke my opponents from the back. But what would be the point?

“He’s one of my best,” Gatha says. “Joined my lead fighters when he was fifteen.”

Fighting at fifteen and captured at seventeen. These days, being an elite fighter just means you die sooner.

“Could you match Ampara’s elite?” Tal presses. “If you were one of them, could you stand out enough to catch a commander’s eye?”

I have to give him credit. He really does seem interested, and his question intrigues me. I think back to what I know of the Amparans, the bits I’ve gleaned from the madness of battle. The Amparans always defeat us, but they do it on strength of numbers, not skill. How would I do if I faced the dogs one-on-one?

“Yes,” I say.

Gatha doesn’t blink at my answer, which gives me some satisfaction.

“Well then,” Tal says to Gatha. “You’ve been wanting to get inside Ampara’s heart, strike at their leaders. I may have a way to put Dineas in their ranks.”

Gatha frowns. “We’ve been through this, Tal. You need papers to join the army, proof of birth, and citizenship. Even if we forged good counterfeits, having him in some remote training outpost would do us no good.”

“That’s why we don’t have him join through the normal channels. We introduce him directly to an Amparan commander, through a personal acquaintance.”

A gasp sounds from Zivah’s direction.

Tal breaks into a slow smile. “You never did miss much, did you, Zivah?”

I exchange a glance with Gatha. The healer has personal sway with Amparan commanders? It doesn’t exactly make me trust her more.

Tal speaks again. “Zivah nursed Commander Arxa from the rose plague, and he was greatly impressed by her service. After he returned to the capital, he invited her to study at the Imperial Healer’s Academy, but she had fallen ill herself by then.”

Zivah looks down at her hands. Her face twists the same way mine does when someone mentions the Amparan dungeons.

Tal continues. “The messenger yesterday brought a new invitation for Zivah to work as a healer in Sehmar City’s rosemarked compound.”

“Leader Tal,” Zivah says firmly. “I can’t accept that invitation.”