Free Forget Me Not, by Juliann Whicker

Rasha,
Maltha and Hortham entered the room, silver armor properly gleaming
even in the study’s dim light.
    “ Break him out?” Lady Perr
repeated, frowning from the High Precept to the two men. “The only
reason he hasn’t broken himself out is that he’s not trying to
leave High City. He’s not fighting.”
    “ A hundred years is a long
time to fight,” Maltha, the green-skinned Rasha said with a slight
smile. “Also, he hopes to see you again. Why would he run when he
can die gazing at your lovely face.”
    Lady Perr blushed as she
folded her hands in front of her. “As I said, breaking him out of
imprisonment isn’t the problem. The problem is holding him in an
unethical manner.”
    “ He injured an Elsyrian,”
Hortham said, raising his arm where you could see the white gauze
beneath the armor.
    She waved it away.
“Interfering on Barbarian business, and it’s only a scratch. He
could have killed you, couldn’t he? He deserves a full pardon, not
only a pardon but an apology. We are not Barbarians. If you were
going to release that monster, Tharmul with a scolding, how can you
hold Balthaar?”
    The high precept smiled.
“Well you see, my dear, he hasn’t agreed to our terms
yet.”
    “ What terms,” she asked,
her mouth tightening in a thin line.
    “ The terms of his
release,” the High Precept said soothingly. “The General must be
persuaded to engage in civil war, Viceroy against Viceroy. That
will end our own war with the Barbarians and be the only thing to
save us. It’s vital that the general go to war. He could be the
next emperor.”
    “ That’s what you want?”
Lady Perr asked, her heart constricting painfully. She ached at the
thought of Balthaar spending another hundred years fighting, blood
and heat leaching out his heart, his soul.
    “ Otherwise, we have no
guarantee that the place of Emperor won’t pass silently to one of
his viceroy’s and Elsyria becomes overrun by Barbarians come
spring,” Maltha said soothingly.
    “ You’re all so soothing,
but you’re talking to me instead of him. He’s declined. He doesn’t
want to fight another war.”
    “ He must be persuaded,”
the High Precept said, cocking his head at her.
    Lady Perr turned and left
the room, the two Rasha falling in behind her.

Chapter 19
    The escape was
ridiculously easy. The two Rasha went to get him, and marched him
to a boat instead of to the High Precept, to take the waterways to
the crumbling manse at the edge of the city where Hatia waited on
the balcony overlooking the river, a river where a ship lay at
anchor just out of sight. That night it would come close enough to
row out, to stow the General safely on board, sending him away to
safety.
    “ Your country is
beautiful,” Balthaar said from behind her, his step soundless on
the stone, soundless as an Elsyrian.
    “ You hated it when you
arrived,” she answered, staying in her place.
    He frowned at her slightly
as he moved closer to the elven woman with pale hair, only a few
wisps escaping from the elaborate braids that circled her head like
a crown. “How suddenly things change,” he replied in a low voice as
he moved behind her, resting his hands on the stone, arms on either
side of her, untouching but holding her fast.
    “ You are leaving,” she
said in a voice she struggled to keep level.
    “ Am I?” he asked, closing
his eyes and inhaling her scent.
    “ You are a general. Your
place is at the head of your men.”
    “ I am an ambassador and a
calumnious traitor. I will be executed the moment I step on
Barabbas soil.”
    She spun around, gazing up
at him with her startling amethyst eyes, gripping his shoulders in
her slender fingers. “Then you must run far away, somewhere no
Elsyrian or Barbarian will find you.”
    He frowned slightly as he
glanced down at her, the soft mouth he’d never touched. As far as
he knew, Elves did not kiss. Too many sharp teeth would make it an
act of war, not love. He was willing to engage in either with