Jim Butcher - Cursors's Fury

“No. But if we can break Sari’s hold on them, we might be able to convince the rest to turn away.”

“Break his hold. You mean kill him?”

Tavi shook his head. “That won’t be enough. If we kill Sari, one of his lieutenants will step up in his place. We’ve got to see his power broken, prove he was wrong to come here, that there’s nothing but death where he’s trying to lead his army-and we have to do it in front of the warriors.”

“To what end?”

“Canim warriors respect fidelity, skill, and courage,” Tavi said. “If we break Sari, it might force them to withdraw, at least temporarily. They might go looking for an easier target. But even if they don’t, it could at least buy us time to prepare better, maybe get reinforcements.”

Marcus exhaled slowly, and looked around the interior of the too-small tent with tired eyes. “If it doesn’t work?”

“I think it’s our only chance.”

“But if it doesn’t work?”

Tavi frowned at him and said, “Then we destroy the Elinarch.”

Marcus grunted. “First Lord isn’t going to like that.”

“But he isn’t here, is he,” Tavi said. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Engineers already looked at it,” Marcus said. “The bridge is as furycrafted as any causeway. It’s strong, almost impossible to crack, and the stone repairs damage to itself. We don’t have enough earthcrafters to do the job quickly. It will take days to tear it down.”

“Let me worry about the earthcrafters,” Tavi said. “I know where we can get some.”

The First Spear squinted at Tavi. “Are you sure, kid?”

“I’m sure that if Sari isn’t stopped here, he’ll run rampant over every stead-holt between here and Ceres just to get enough food to survive.”

Marcus tilted his head to one side. “And you think you’re the best one to stop him?”

Tavi rose and met his eyes. “I honestly don’t know. But I’ll promise you this, Marcus. I’ll be at the front and in the center the whole way. I won’t ask any le-gionare to do what I won’t.”

The First Spear stared at him, and his eyes suddenly went very wide. “Bloody crows “ he whispered.

“There’s not much time, First Spear, and we can’t afford confusion or delays.” Tavi offered him his hand. “So I need to know, right now. Are you with me?”

Footsteps approached the tent.

The First Spear stared at Tavi’s outstretched hand. Then he nodded once, sharply, and lifted his fist to his heart. His voice came out hoarse, low. “All right, sir. I’m with you.”

Tavi nodded at the First Spear and returned the salute.

Magnus entered the tent with Crassus and Max in tow. They saluted Tavi, and Tavi nodded to them. “We don’t have much time,” he began without preamble.

He was interrupted when the tent flap opened again, and Mistress Cymnea entered, tall and calm, her hair and dress flawless, as though she hadn’t been dragged from her bed to rush to the fortifications.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” Magnus said at once. “I’m afraid you can’t be here for security reasons.”

“It’s all right, Magnus,” Tavi said. “I asked her to be here.”

The old Maestro glanced at Tavi, frowning. “Why?”

Cymnea bowed politely to Tavi. “My thoughts precisely, Captain.”

“I need you to do something for me,” Tavi said. “I wouldn’t ask for your help if it wasn’t important.”

“Of course, Captain. I will do whatever service I may.”

“Thank you,” Tavi said. “Gentlemen, when we’re finished, you’ll need to coordinate with our new Tribune Logistica, here.”

Max’s jaw dropped open. “ What ?”

Cymnea’s eyes grew very wide. “ What ?”

Tavi arched a brow at Max. “Which word didn’t you understand?”

“Sir,” Magnus began, tone heavy with disapproval.

“We need a Tribune Logistica,” Tavi said.

“But she’s just-” Max began. He broke off, cheeks flushing, and muttered under his breath.

Cymnea turned a steady and unamused gaze upon Max. “Yes, Tribune. She’s just a… what? Which word did you have in mind? Whore, perhaps? Madam? Woman?”

Max met her eyes. “Civilian,” he said quietly.

Cymnea narrowed her eyes for a second, then nodded in accession, somehow conveying a mild apology with the gesture.

“Not anymore, she’s not,” Tavi said. “We need someone who knows what the Legion will require and who is familiar with our people. Someone with experience, leadership skills, organizational ability, and who knows how to exercise authority. If we appoint any centurion in the Legion to the post, it’s going to disrupt the century we draw him from, and we need every sword and every century.” He glanced around the room. “Does anyone have a better suggestion?”

Max sighed, but no one spoke.

“Then let’s get to work,” Tavi said. “This is what we’re going to do…”

Purposeful strides approached, and by the time the tent’s flap was thrown aside, Tavi had his sword in his hand and half-drawn from its scabbard.

“Whoah,” Ehren said, holding up open hands. The tanned, sandy-haired little Cursor looked more amused than threatened, backlit by the cloudy light of full day. “I surrender, Captain Scipio.”

Tavi blinked his eyes several times, glanced blearily around, then put his sword away. “Right. Sorry.”

Ehren closed the tent flap, darkening it again.

Tavi sighed. “On the trunk to your left.”

“Oh,” Ehren said. “Sorry. I forgot. Light.” The little furylamp on the trunk flickered to life.

“You didn’t forget,” Tavi said, half-smiling. “You wanted to see if I’d developed any crafting of my own yet. No.”

Ehren put on an innocent look. “I hardly recognized you with your hair cut so short.”

“I hardly recognized you with a tan,” Tavi replied. “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to talk yet, but…”

“We’re working,” Ehren said. “I get it.”

Tavi had slept in his trousers and with his boots on. He rose, slipped on a tunic, and turned to greet Ehren with a rough hug.

“Good to see you, “ Tavi said.

“Likewise,” Ehren replied. He drew back and looked suspiciously at Tavi, up and down. “Crows, you’ve gotten taller. You’re supposed to stop growing after age twenty or so, Ta-” He shook his head. “Ahem. Scipio. At the Academy, we started off the same height. Now you’re as tall as Max.”

“Making up for lost time, I suppose,” Tavi said. “How are you?”

“Glad to be rid of the islands,” Ehren said. He frowned and glanced away. “Though I wish I’d come back with better news. And given it to someone else.”

“Did you speak to the prisoners?”

Ehren nodded. “They cooperated. I’m fairly sure that the dead man was Kalarus’ agent, and was the brains of the operation. The rest were just… well. There’s always shady business for a legionare to involve himself in.”

“Especially troublemakers.”

“Especially troublemaking veterans,” Ehren agreed.

“Fine,” Tavi said. “Release them and send them back to their century.”

Ehren blinked. “What?”

“That’s an entire spear of veteran legionares, Ehren. I need them.”

“But… Captain…”

Tavi met the Cursor’s eyes, and said, quietly, “This is my decision. Do it.”

Ehren nodded. “All right,” he said quietly. “The First Spear asked me to tell you that the Canim are moving through the second picket]ine now, and they’re making no effort to conceal their presence. He estimates that they’ll be here in an hour or so.”

Tavi scowled. “I told him to wake me when the first pickets reported contact.”