Captain's Fury (Page 17)

"Did the Senator displace him?" Isana asked.

Araris shook his head. "The Canim’s sorcery evidently proved quite dangerous. Some kind of lightning bolt wiped out the First Aleran’s original officers. When the Legion’s engineers built this building, they made sure to put yards and yards of fortified stone over and around the captain, to avoid any repetition."

Isana shivered. She’d heard about the attack. If Tavi hadn’t been sent out to run messages for then-Captain Cyril… "I see," she replied.

Araris snorted. "The valets set up Arnos on the top level. I suspect they’re privately hoping that the Canim will try another lightning bolt and brighten everyone’s day."

Isana repressed a wicked little smile. "Sir Araris," she chided. "That isn’t a very kind thing to say."

"Arnie doesn’t have kindness coming," Araris replied. Isana felt a gentle surge of contempt flow out with the words.

"You know him," she said.

"We went to the Academy together," Araris replied.

"You didn’t get along?"

"Oh, he was at my throat constantly-whenever I wasn’t actually in the room," he said. "Arnos never had anything to say to my face." Araris reached up with one hand to rub lightly at the mark branded over one cheek. "He was always small-minded, egotistical. He hasn’t changed."

"He’s dangerous," Isana said. "Isn’t he?"

"Here? Now? Very." He came to a stop before a heavy, closed door, and turned to look at Isana.

She met his eyes, and her mouth suddenly felt dry.

He reached down and took her hand gently in his. He squeezed tightly once. "You can do this."

She bit her lip and nodded. "What if-"

He laid two fingers lightly over her lips and gave her a quiet smile. "Don’t borrow trouble. Just talk to him. He loves you. It will be all right."

She closed her eyes tight for a second and brushed the faintest ghost of a kiss against his fingers. Then Isana took a steadying breath, nodded, and said, "Very well."

Araris turned and opened the door for her. "Captain," he announced quietly. "Steadholder Isana to see you."

A resonant, deep-chested voice answered in‹ a tone of distracted confidence. "Thank you, Araris. Send her in, please."

Araris gave Isana another small smile, then stood aside, and Isana walked into Tavi’s office. Araris shut the door behind her.

The office was supremely utilitarian, even stark. There was an old wooden desk, scarred from use, several chairs, and several shelves filled with books and papers and writing materials. The cold stone floor was covered by a few simple rugs, and a box beside the lit fireplace was filled with a neat stack of cordwood. A door led off into another room, and a plain, medium-sized mirror hung upon the same wall.

He sat at the desk, a quill in hand, scrawling something hurriedly across the bottom of a page. There were several stacks of them spread across the desk, evidence of what appeared to be several hours’ work. He finished writing, set the quill aside, and rose with a broad smile.

Isana stopped in her tracks. The man who stood up was enormous, even taller than her brother Bernard, though he had a more wiry build and the slen-derness of youth. His dark hair was cropped short, and he wore a suit of battered Legion armor and a sword on one hip. His features were angular, strong, attractive, though a fine white line across one cheek spoke of a wound too severe to heal without leaving a scar.

Tavi’s eyes, though, had not changed. They were green and bright, lit from within by the intelligence of the mind behind them.

How like his father he looks, Isana thought.

"Aunt Isana," Tavi said, and wrapped his arms around her.

She was about to caution him to be careful, but he was gentle, making sure not to crush any armored steel ridges against her. She made up for it by hugging him back as hard as she could. He was real, and safe. She hadn’t seen him face-to-face in years, but there was no mistaking that he was her son, no hiding the genuine burst of warmth and love and delight that radiated from him as she hugged him.

They stood like that for a time, before Isana broke the embrace. She lifted her hands to cup his face, her eyes swimming with tears, her cheeks already aching from smiling. "Hello, Tavi."

He kissed her on top of the head. "Hello, Auntie. It’s been a long time."

She leaned back to arm’s length, looking him up and down. "Longer for some than others," she teased. "Goodness, you’ve grown even more. What do they put in the water here?"

He grinned. "Yeah. It sort of snuck up on me. But I think I’ve stopped growing, finally. These trousers have fit me for almost a year."

"Thank goodness. If you got much taller, they’d have to raise all the ceilings in here."

Tavi shook his head gravely. "Nonsense. This is the Legion. The ceiling is at regulation height. It is the responsibility of every legionare to be sure that he is regulation height as well."

Isana laughed. "I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor."

"Never that," Tavi said. "My mind has been gone for a while now, but that’s no reason not to laugh at things. How’s Uncle His Excellency?"

"Bernard is well, as are the folk at home. Which reminds me." She untied the pouch from her belt and opened it, rustling through several papers, before she drew out a folded, sealed letter. "Frederic asked me to give this to you."

Tavi smiled and took the letter. He cracked the seal and his eyes flicked rapidly over it. "That girl he rescued, eh? Beritte must be miffed. How’s that working out for them?"

"About the way most marriages do. They have a lot to learn about how to treat one another."

"I’m glad for him," Tavi said. "If I get time, I’ll write something to send with you when you go back. But in case I don’t, would you give him my congratulations?"

"Of course."

Tavi smiled at her and gestured to the fireplace, where a kettle hung from a hook close enough to the flames to keep the liquid inside warm. "Tea?"

"Please."

Tavi drew out a couple of the room’s chairs, putting them close together, and held one of them for her. Then he took a pair of tin cups down from a shelf and poured steaming tea from the kettle into each. He added a spoonful of honey to Isana’s, the way she liked it, then splashed three of them into his own, before returning to her.

They shared a cup of tea, chatting quietly about people and places back home in the Calderon Valley. They talked for a time of Tavi’s duties at the Eli-narch, and of Isana’s journey in assembling the relief column, until Tavi rose to get them both fresh cups of tea.