Barth's head was pounding, although in spite of the blow he'd sustained he knew it was more from the drinking than anything else. He hadn't handled Verana's passing very well, that much was a fact. To make it somewhat ironic, she hated the drink more than anyone, to the point of scolding him whenever he had too much. To some it would've looked humorous, a battle-hardened prince being reprimanded by a girl who was much smaller and less experienced, but to Barth the woman was worth listening to. Even when he ignored her and drank too much anyway, he still felt ashamed whenever she fixed him with her accusing grey stare.<br/><br/>He listened carefully as Daria spoke, unable to believe what he was hearing. It was all incredibly hard to fathom, and the sheer insanity of it made him wonder if he'd been alone in hitting the bottle that day. Still, he allowed her to finish explaining herself before speaking. It wasn't like he could do much anyway, with his hands bound and his vision obscured; he understood the reasoning behind his current situation, but that didn't make it any more enjoyable for him.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"Unless you fear that I can kill with my gaze alone, remove this sack from my head. It smells like old tits, and while I'm curious as to why that is, I won't presume to delve into your personal affairs. Leave my hands bound if you wish, but if I need my ass scratched you'll have to oblige me." <br/></span><br/>He heard mumbling voices, and then finally the sack was moved and he saw the flickering of torchlight a ways away, at the edge of his vision. If not for his current sensitivity to light he'd have missed it entirely, as the group he was riding with was shrouded in darkness. Undoubtedly, this was by design. Barth inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh air that greeted him.<span style="color: #FFFF00">"Much better." </span><br/><br/>He observed the group, throwing an exploratory look back over his shoulder. It seemed very much like the entirety of the Heart Guard, those who'd escaped the battle without serious injury, was in attendance. He narrowed his eyes, then turned back to Daria, who was riding one of the two horses tied to his own.<span style="color: #FFFF00">"Your plan is a daring one. A little stupid, too, although that's not necessarily a bad thing. The former general of Linden, who led the army in the years of my youth, was a man by the name of Daiden'sk. He seldom visited the field, and instead spent his time studying his papers as opposed to the enemy. Every strategy he proposed was based on his theories - his most memorable work would have to be when he had the idea to utilize pikemen in defending against the Tutar. It seemed logical enough, but then the beasts would stop shy of crashing into the lines, choosing instead to let loose with their spears. They outnumbered us ten to one, in those days, and the sky was darkened by the shafts they flung. A logical theory, but a complete failure of a plan. Perhaps here I'm witnessing the opposite." <br/></span><br/>One of the mercenaries was staring at him in disbelief; it probably wasn't the ideal time for a history lesson, but Barth had never been very predictable. He also felt strangely talkative, although that might've been the remnants of the alcohol in his system. He wasn't exactly known for his tolerance.<span style="color: #FFFF00">"But I have to ask… why isn't there an uproar following in our wake? From what you've told me, you left a great deal to chance. So why isn't there a civil war on our heels?" <br/></span><br/>Before the red-headed woman, who was unmistakably a descendant of the Thaamin, could reply, Barth was surprised to hear another voice speak out.<br/><br/>"Forgiveness, Captain, but I was leaving the tent when I was caught up by the big one," said the rider, who had been hanging back behind them until now. "The one with the eyepatch." Barth smiled, imagining the scene as the man spoke. If trouble came, Haman was always nearby, ready to break every bone in its troubled body. "He left me little choice - I… I told him everything. And he… he nodded, and said he would do what he can. I'm sorry, I know you said to maintain secre-"<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"Nonsense, good man,"</span>Barth interrupted, as the stammering mercenary turned from his leader to their captive. He must've been hoping to get by without admitting what he'd done to Daria, but she actually owed him a great deal. Haman was a big, scary individual - but he had a brain. He was smart, much smarter than many would have given him credit for, and he'd clearly seen the situation as Barth was now seeing it. Daria trying something like this, without good reason, would've been suicide. For her, and for the Allies' chances. The mammoth man knew better than to raise the alarm, and that was just one of many reasons he was held so highly in the Prince's regard.<span style="color: #FFFF00">"If you hadn't told him the truth, he would've probably ripped your limbs off. The screams would've led to all kinds of trouble. You did the right thing, now, what do you have there in that skin?" </span><br/><br/>The man stared at him for a second, looking a bit lost for words, before glancing down at the container hanging at his belt. "Oh, this. It's water sir. Uh, Sir Prince."<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"Ah. I thought it might've been wine, but that's better than nothing. Parched, I am. Bring it here,"</span>Barth added imperiously, gesturing with his head, and then the skin was passed to the man flanking him on his other side, who held it to his mouth. He drank deeply, relishing the liquid as it eased the dryness of his throat - he felt more awake than he had in some time, which was a good thing given what waited ahead.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"I admire your ability to think on the fly, Daria," </span>he said once he'd taken his fill,<span style="color: #FFFF00">"because there's no way you put a lot of time into this. It wouldn't have been nearly so sloppy, and if you're wrong, a lot of people are going to die. But Lady Lydia must have blessed you, because if your man hadn't run into Haman and told all, you'd be in serious trouble. And the weight of everything that happened next would have fallen squarely on your shoulders. But luckily, there's still time. If this is going to work, we'll have to make the most of what we have."<br/></span><br/>It was dark, but to his eyes the woman appeared to be surprised by his willingness. He grunted, nodding in a knowing fashion.<span style="color: #FFFF00">"Yeah, most prisoners aren't so eager. But while it might make me a fool to say so, I'm inclined to believe you. I meant what I told you in the tent, Daria. And as such, I'm putting my trust in you. I will do my part." </span><br/><br/>Barth stopped, allowing a brief silence to fall before he finished his thought, his tone as serious as it had ever been.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFFF00">"Just don't fail me."</span>