Jim Butcher - Captain's Fury

Bernard's hands froze for a moment, as he crumbled some kind of herb into the salted water in the pot. It was the only sign of his discomfort. "I can only promise that I will act on my conscience."

"Well enough," Gaius replied. With Bernard's help, he returned to his seat upon the camp stool and slipped his battered feet into the pot. He let out a hiss of pain and shuddered a few times, but then his breathing steadied. A moment later, he opened his eyes, and Amara pressed a cup of bitter willow tea into his hands. He nodded his thanks to her. "This touches upon your last visit to Kalare, actually."

Amara lifted an eyebrow. "In what way? Not for familiarity, I am sure. We only covered the last few miles on the ground."

"Similar motivation," the First Lord said. "You remember the necessity for bringing Lady Placida back whole and unharmed?"

Amara nodded. "There are several dangerous furies back in her lands that are held in check by her will. Had she died, they would have been loosed on her people."

"Precisely," Gaius said. "And Kalarus, whom I will never fault for lack of ambition, has done something almost as brilliant as it is insane-he's intentionally stirred up furies of terrible power of his own and bound them to his will in the same way."

Amara took in a deep breath. "He hopes to preserve his life?"

"Not at all," Gaius said in a sober tone. "He's too proud to suffer through imprisonment, and he knows that we could assume control of those furies once he was taken away and we had time to work. His goal is much simpler, Countess. He hopes to drag as many lives as possible into the underworld with him- preferably including my own."

Bernard scratched at his beard, frowning. "Sire… what kind of furies are you talking about here?"

Gaius took a slow breath, and said, "One of the Great Furies, Count."

Amara frowned. "Great furies… what… I mean, there are actually…?"

Gaius's mouth gained an edge of grim amusement. "You think we swear by them simply for show? No. They exist, the Great Furies. A dozen or so that I'm aware of. Creatures so old and vast that our entire existence upon this world, a thousand years of growth and strife, is less than the span of an eyeblink to them."

Bernard's frown deepened as he took a clean cloth and began washing the First Lord's feet as gently as he could. "And Kalarus can control this thing?"

"Not even remotely," Gaius said. "But he can annoy it, arousing its wrath- and he can delay its response for a time. When he ceases to do so, Kalus will spend his wrath upon anyone it meets."

"Kalus?" Amara asked. "Like Mount Kalus?"

"For which Kalare itself is named," Gaius said, nodding. "Though it is not only a mountain, but an ancient fire-mountain. It has not spoken in Aleran memory, but Kalarus has stirred it up. When he dies, Kalus will burst free of the mountain and bathe the land in fire." He leaned forward, meeting Bernard's eyes, then Amara's, in turn. "If I let the Legions besiege Kalare, it will mean more deaths fighting on the approach. It will mean that all of Kalarus's forces will have fallen back to the city. It means that an entire campaign's worth of refugees will have fallen back with them."

"Bloody crows," Bernard breathed. "He means to make a bier of allies, enemies, and subjects alike. Of the city itself."

"I can intercede," Gaius said, "but only if I can physically approach to within a few miles and clear sight of Mount Kalus." He took a deep breath. "If I don't intervene, it will mean more lives senselessly lost to Kalarus's spite." His eyes glittered, cold and hard. "I won't have it. Not in my Realm."

"So," Amara said quietly. "The plan is to get you in close enough to deprive Kalarus of his funeral pyre?"

The First Lord nodded. "I never truly understood how horrible life was in Kalare, how he had transformed his lands into a nightmare of slaves and fear. I failed his people. Now he threatens to burn them all alive. I will not allow them to die at the will of that madman."

Bernard looked up at the First Lord, his eyes steady.

"Count Calderon," Gaius said calmly. "Please believe me when I say that I will proceed. Either with you-or through you."

Bernard regarded him without blinking. Then he said, "Your feet are swollen, and those boots aren't going to fit. We'll need to let you rest for a day or so, and I'll try to make your footwear a little more comfortable before we move again." He turned to Amara. "Can you find us a spot to camp, out of sight of the trail? There's no sense loitering here until someone stumbles into us."

Amara rose and went to Bernard's side. She touched his shoulder briefly, and said, "Thank you."

Gaius exhaled slowly, and bowed his head gently to the Count of Calderon. "Aye, Bernard. Thank you."

Bernard glanced from Gaius to Amara, frowning. But he said nothing.

"This is outrageous!" Maximus sputtered, his words oddly flat-sounding within the windcrafting that kept their conversation private. His horse danced nervously at the fury in his voice. "We should hand the son of a bitch his head for suggesting such a thing!"

"Unfortunately it isn't a suggestion," Crassus murmured. Max's slender brother rode on Tavi's other side and was a good deal less ruffled. "It's an order."

Max's hand flew to the hilt of his sword. "I've got the proper response to that order, right here."

Crassus cast his brother a resigned look, and said, "You aren't helping."

"Crassus is right, Max," Tavi said quietly. "This isn't a problem we can hack to pieces."

"Just you watch me," Max growled. His horse half reared in response, one hoof striking out as if to crush some unseen foe. Acteon snorted at these antics, but his pace never wavered, and Tavi was grateful that his mount did not seem inclined to the same spontaneous displays of physical prowess of most war-horses. Max calmed his horse with an expert's casual skill, and said, "I'm not letting anyone kill those townies."

Tavi glanced over his shoulder, where the prisoners were being walked out of Othos as ordered, surrounded by Valiar Marcus's Prime Cohort. Tavi had deliberately ordered a slow pace, but some of the elderly among the prisoners were having trouble even so. He caught Marcus's eye and flicked a signal at the First Spear. Marcus slowed the pace even more.

Just as well, Tavi thought. It would give him a little more time to figure a way out of this mess.

"We aren't going through with it," Max growled. "Right?"

Tavi shook his head slowly, more a gesture of irritation than anything else. "The children are clear, at least."

Crassus frowned in thought, then glanced at Tavi. "Age of accountability?"

"Exactly," Tavi said.

Hoofbeats approached. Araris came trotting down the line of horses and offered a thick book to Tavi.

"What's that?" Max asked.

Tavi held up the book, titled, simply, Military Law . Then he flipped it open and started searching for the proper reference.

Crassus smiled. "You came prepared, eh?"

"Gift from Cyril," Tavi replied.

"Age of what?" Max said.

"Accountability, you illiterate thug," Crassus said. He flashed a small smile at Max. "Legally speaking, a child under the age of twelve dwelling in an adult's household cannot be held accountable for most crimes. Their parent or guardian is responsible for their behavior."

"So that gets the kids out of trouble," Max said.

"It isn't enough," Tavi said. "It just means we'd have to execute their parents twice." He held up the book. "Arnos has to adhere to the letter of the law. As a Legion commander in a war zone, he's got full authority to pass summary judgment on enemy troops and support personnel."

"With no trial?" Max asked.