“But you are an Elf yourself,” he said. “Why are you so willing to kill your own people?”

She made a sound that might have been meant as laughter. “I am not an Elf! I am a Druid! Just as you are a Prime Minister and not a Southlander. It is the power we wield that commands our loyalty, Sen Dunsidan, not some accident of birth.”

She was right, of course. His nationality and Race meant nothing to him beyond the opportunities they provided for advancement.

“As a Druid, then,” he snapped, “you must know that Shadea will not approve of this. She will be here to confer with me in two days. She is already distressed that I attacked the Free-born without first advising her. Once she discovers my new intention, she will put a stop to it. In appearances, at least, the Druids must seem impartial. She might back the Federation in its bid to reclaim the Borderlands, but she will never countenance genocide.”

“Tell her nothing, then. Let her respond when it is over, after she has already openly declared her support of the Federation. Will anyone listen to her, no matter how loudly she protests?”

“In which case she will come looking for me, and not to offer congratulations.”

The pale face looked away. “I will deal with her when she does.”

He thought to question such boldness, for in the time he had known Iridia he had never once believed that she was a match for Shadea a’Ru. But perhaps things had changed. She sounded very sure of herself, and the steely resolve she brought to their alliance had given him reason to suspect she had grown more powerful.

“What is your decision, Prime Minister?” she pressed.

He was certain of one thing only. If he chose to pursue Iridia’s course of action, questions of ethics were pointless. If he failed, questions of ethics would be the least of his problems. And if he succeeded, such questions would be whispered in private, because he would then have become the most powerful figure in the Four Lands. Not even the Druids would dare to challenge his authority.

It should have been an easy decision. Where power and influence were at stake, he had never hesitated in making his choice. Yet he hesitated here. Something felt wrong about this, perhaps a consequence he had not considered or a possibility he had overlooked. But whatever it was, it was definitely there, nagging at him. He could feel it deep inside where such things could not be ignored.

“Prime Minister?”