Captain's Fury (Page 144)

Marcus shook his head. The surge of fear had faded rather rapidly, as his exhaustion finally caught up with him. He knew he should be stealing a fast horse and running for his life, but he was just too tired.

Besides, he’d do it again in a heartbeat. And he was finished with running.

He exchanged a few more words with Foss, and then marched out of the healers’ tent and toward the command tent. In the end, what difference did it make if he died for this choice or one of the many others that could come back to haunt him?

As long as he was still alive, there was a job to do, a Realm to defend-and a captain to serve.

Chapter 60

All in all, Tavi supposed, it could have been worse.

It took him another three hours to gather up the surviving commanders of the three Legions, hash out exactly what resources were left to them, and get them positioned where he wanted them to be. He set up the watch, arranged for water to be carted in from the wells that hadn’t been poisoned, and ordered everyone who wasn’t engaged in one of those two tasks to get some sleep.

He suspected it was that last order, more than any of the others, that won him the approval of the officers of the Senatorial Guard.

Then they buried the dead, honoring the fallen, and the First Spear called the roll for the entire Legion, marking the names of the dead on his lists, in half a day of quiet tribute. The wake that night was subdued. There was little alcohol to be had, and too many of their brothers were missing to allow sober legionares to forget that lack. For the most part, the camp turned in early.

The next two days were a mess, adjusting the formations of the battered Legions, caring for the wounded, and setting up a proper camp. The First Aleran had taken a terrible beating-almost as bad as at the battle of the Elinarch. Even so, they were in better shape than either of the Senatorial Guard Legions, even though they’d both come in marching heavily overstrength.

The captain of the First Senatorial had been killed in the fighting, and the next-most-senior officer was the Tribune Auxiliarus, whose cavalry had been responsible for the attacks on several steadholts. The man hadn’t returned from his most recent patrol-or if he had, he’d somehow learned which way the wind was blowing, and elected not to remain. None of the officers below him seemed willing to risk his possible wrath by taking the command that was rightfully his, and thus tacitly support any charges that might be brought against him.

Nalus suggested that Tavi assign him to be the joint commander of both Guard Legions, and Tavi found it an excellent solution. There were just enough survivors of the two Legions to make a single full-strength Legion in any case, and Nalus immediately folded the two Guard Legions together, "until reinforcements made dividing them practical again."

Kitai and her kinsmen, meanwhile, set out to hunt down the guilty Tribune and his murderers. She’d won the coin toss, that time.

The weather had turned strange. The sky was covered with a pall of grey, and flecks of something that looked like snow but wasn’t began to fall from the sky. It took Tavi an hour or two to realize what was falling-ash. Ashes from some enormous fire that could only be explained by the presence of a volcano. Since it also explained the great red light on the night of the duel, as well as the shuddering in the earth, he felt confident in his guess. After a day or so, it slackened, then stopped, and the next day the sky was brighter. Still, it was strange, and it worried nearly everyone.

After two days of reorganizing, repairing, and rearming, the First Aleran, beaten down to seventeen combat-capable cohorts, almost looked like proper soldiers again. The ruins had been neatly cleared of debris and many of the trees that had grown up through it, and the engineers had been hard at work on buildings, repairing their walls and roofs where they could, and converting them to open space where they couldn’t. Every hale legionare helped them, including Tavi himself, at least for part of the day, carrying away rubble and clearing ground. It was best to keep the men busy. It would improve morale and discourage thoughts of any rash adventures toward the town of Mastings, still filled with the foes who had mauled them so badly.

Tavi found himself commanding the Legions out of the building upon whose roof he had won the duel with Phrygiar Navaris. The rotting wooden interior had been cleared, leaving a soaring roof overhead, and he quickly fell into the routine of command-except, of course, for the missing faces who now lay in the earth.

On the fourth day after the duel, the First Lord arrived.

Gaius Sextus stalked into the command building completely unannounced and narrowed his eyes at Tavi.

"Out," he murmured.

Had the building been on fire, it would not have emptied more quickly.

Gaius idly flicked a hand at the door as the last of Tavi’s staff left, and a breeze slammed it closed. He eyed Tavi for a long and silent moment.

Tavi lifted his chin-a gesture of attention, more than aggression, schooled his face to a mask of polite neutrality, and waited. The silence grew heavier, but Tavi didn’t let it press in on him, and after a time, Gaius grunted.

"And I thought I had made a mess," he said, finally.

"Mess, sir?" Tavi asked. He deliberately avoided the honorific given to the First Lord by everyone in the Realm but his immediate family. Tavi was not, however, feeling quite so bold as to call the old man "grandfather."

"I’m not sure what you mean."

"Don’t be obstreperous, Tavi," Gaius said. To Tavi’s surprise, he sounded almost exactly like his Uncle Bernard sometimes had after one of Tavi’s fits of ingenuity, back at Bernardholt.

"Magnus got through to you on his coin?" Tavi asked. "I assume he’s taken on the role of watchdog on your behalf."

"Once he recovered from the shock," Gaius said. He walked past Tavi, looking around the room. "Who told you? Araris or your mother?"

"Araris," Tavi said quietly.

Gaius sighed. "Mmmm. Unfortunate."

"That I know?"

"The way you learned. That she kept it from everyone. That Araris consented to it." He shook his head. "Though who knows. It may have been for the best. Concealment may have protected you more thoroughly than my power could have. Though that’s over now."

"Sir?"

"Surely you must realize, Octavian," Gaius said quietly, "that a great many people will not be happy about the appearance of an heir. They’ll remove you."

"They’ll try," Tavi said.

Gaius studied him intently for a moment and glanced around them. "You’ve no attendant furies. But you overcame Navaris. And there’s a touch of…" He peered closely at Tavi. "Your talents?"