Cursor's Fury (49 page)

“Then I don’t know anything about a purse,” Tavi said, frowning at the beaten young man. Tavi didn’t have the advantages of a skilled watercrafter, but he was as good as anyone without that advantage could be, when it came to reading people. Crassus wasn’t lying to Tavi about the stone. He was sure of it.

“You’ll get what you want now,” Crassus said quietly. “You’ll report me to the captain, won’t you. Have me cast from the Legion. Sent home in shame.”

Tavi regarded Crassus for a moment. Then he said, “You don’t get dishonorably discharged for falling down a flight of stairs.”

Crassus blinked at him. “What?”

“Sir Knight, just what the crows do you think those drums are for? Lulling the fish to sleep? We’re mobilizing, and I’m not going to do anything that robs the Legion of a capable Knight and our Tribune Medica.” Tavi extended his hand. “As far as I’m concerned, you fell down some stairs, and that’s the end of it. Come on.”

The young man stared at Tavi’s hand for a moment, blinking in confusion, but then hesitantly reached out and let Tavi help him to his feet. He looked frightful, and while Tavi knew the injuries were painful, they weren’t serious.

Tavi felt his eyes widen, as he suddenly realized the young man’s motivation. “You didn’t do it to protect her,” he said quietly. “You were trying to protect
me
.”

Crassus froze for a second, staring at Tavi, then looked away.

“That’s why you didn’t draw a sword on me,” Tavi said quietly. “You never intended for me to be hurt.”

_p. 240
Crassus wiped at his mouth with a corner of his sleeve. “She’s . . . got a temper. She’s reached the end of it. She left earlier tonight. I thought to find you and return the purse to her. Tell her I found it on the ground.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want her to do anything rash. Sometimes her anger gets the better of her.”

“Like with Max,” Tavi said.

Crassus grimaced. “Yes.” He looked back toward the camp. “Maximus . . . some of those scars he took for me. Confessed to things I had done, trying to protect me.” He glanced at Tavi. “I don’t like you, Scipio. But Max does. And I owe him. That’s why I came here. I wanted to reconcile us somehow. I thought if we could . . .” He shrugged. “Spend some time together, and not back at Antillus. Mother told me she was going to offer him an apology for how she has treated him.”

Tavi felt a surge of anger for Max’s stepmother. She’d offered him something, all right. She’d tried to kill him again. But Tavi had a strong suspicion that Crassus’s opinion of her was anything but objective. He felt sure that the young knight would never allow himself to believe that his mother had Max’s murder in mind.

Tavi reached into his pocket and withdrew the silk purse, shaking the small red stone out of it as he did, so that the stone remained in his pocket. He offered the purse to Crassus.

Crassus took it, and then said quietly, “I could report this to the captain.”

“And I could suddenly remember that there are no stairs around here,” Tavi replied without rancor. “But I think we’ve both wasted enough effort for tonight.”

Crassus bounced the empty purse on his palm a few times, then pocketed it. “Maybe I should have just asked you for it.”

Tavi grimaced, and said, “Sorry about your, uh, your face.”

Crassus shook his head. “My own fault. I jumped you. Hit you first.” He touched his nose lightly and winced. “Where’d you learn that throw?”

“From a Marat,” Tavi replied. “Come on. I’m already late. And we’ll both be needed tonight.”

Crassus nodded, and they started walking.

They hadn’t gone twenty paces when the brightest dance of scarlet fire Tavi had yet seen in the glowering overcast rushed from one horizon to the other and back again, rippling back and forth like some vast and unthinkably swift wave.

“Crows,” Tavi said softly, staring up at the display.

_p. 241
And then the night was torn with blinding white light and a wall of thunder that smashed against Tavi in a sonic tsunami, staggering him, almost robbing him of his balance. He managed to steady Crassus when the young man began to fall. It lasted for a bare heartbeat, then the thunderous sound vanished into a high-pitched ringing tone in his ears, while the flashing streak of light remained burned into his blinded eyes, shifting colors slowly against the blackness.

It took several moments for his eyes to readjust to the night, and even longer for his ears to stop ringing. His instincts screaming, he hurried forward as fast as he could, to return to the town and the legion’s fortification there. Sir Crassus, his expression somewhat dazed, followed along.

Fires burned in the fortifications. Tavi could hear the screams of wounded men and terrified horses. There were shouts and cries all around them, and confusion ran rampant.

Tavi reached the captain’s command tent and stopped in his tracks, stunned.

Where Cyril’s command had been, there was now a great, gaping hole torn in the blackened earth. Fires burned in patches all around it. Bodies—and pieces of bodies—lay scattered in the ruins.

“Lightning.” Max panted. He had lost half of one eyebrow, singed away by the head, and there were blisters on the skin of his forehead and along one cheekbone. “A crowbegotten
wall
of lightning. Came down like a hammer, not twenty feet away.” Max stared at the ruins. “Right on top of the captain’s meeting.”

“Great furies,” Tavi breathed.

“Foss and the healers are with some survivors, but it doesn’t look good for them.” He swallowed. “As far as we can tell, you’re the only officer able to serve.”

Tavi stared at Max. “What do you mean?”

Max looked at the results of the lightning strike grimly and said, “I mean that you are now in command of the First Aleran, Captain Scipio.”

Chapter 30

_p. 242
Tavi threw down his bedroll and his regulation trunk in the smoldering ruins where Captain Cyril’s command tent had been. “All right,” he said to Foss, sitting down on the trunk. “Let’s hear it.”

“Captain’s alive,” Foss said. The veteran healer looked exhausted, and the grey in his hair and beard stood out more sharply than they had the day before. “Barely. Don’t know if he’ll ever wake up. Don’t know how much use he’s gonna have of his legs if he does.”

Tavi grunted and worked on keeping his expression calm and remote. He wasn’t sure how well he was doing it. Telling a lie to his aunt wasn’t the same thing as pretending to be competent and confident when all he really wanted to do was run screaming and hide somewhere.

Around him, the Legion continued preparing to fight.

Screaming and hiding was not an option.

“First Spear should be on his feet in an hour or two,” Foss continued. “Old Marcus got lucky. He was out getting more mugs for tea when it came down. Maximus was able to get to him, pull him out of the fire. He’s got a few more scars from it.”

“Who’d notice,” Tavi said.

Foss showed his teeth. “True.” He was silent for a second, then cleared his throat, and said, “We’ve got two more survivors so far.”

“They’ll have to tell us if they wake up. Burns are too bad. Look like they got skinned. Some of it was so hot, pieces of their armor melted.” Foss let out a shaking breath. “I’ve seen bad. But never bad like that.”

“Tell me,” Tavi said. “Have you seen Lady Antillus this evening?”

_p. 243
Foss was quiet for a long time until he said, “No, sir.”

Max began to smile, then shook himself, came to attention, and saluted. Tavi stiffened uncomfortably at the formality, but returned it. “That’s something, at least, sir,” Max said. “The auxiliaries are ready to move out. Four hundred cavalry and eighty scouts.”

“What about the horses?” Tavi asked.

Max grimaced. “We’re missing a pair of our courier mounts.”

“We’re missing two of our fastest horses. We’re missing Lady Antillus.” Tavi shook his head. “I’m tempted to draw unkind conclusions.”

“I’m tempted to . . .” Max’s voice dropped off into a low, muttering growl.

Foss grunted. “You think she had something to do with what hit the captain, sir?”

Tavi grimaced. Actually speaking of his suspicions aloud, in the course of his duties to one of his officers, would have the legal weight of a lawful accusation. “I don’t have any way of knowing, centurion. But I’ve got a lot of questions that I’d like to have answered.”

Max scowled. “Make me a list, sir. I’ll think of some creative ways to ask them.”

“While you’re doing that,” Tavi said, “saddle up. You’re acting Tribune Auxiliarus. I want you with them when they find the Canim.”