Captain's Fury (Page 24)

The Senator was, in turn, staring hard at Marcus.

"Take your hood off," Arnos snapped.

"I think not," Marcus said.

Arnos smiled. It reminded Marcus of a snarling jackal. "Take it off now."

"No."

"Navaris," Arnos said. "If he does not remove his head from the hood, you are to take both from his shoulders."

"Yes, sir," Navaris said. She never moved her feet or looked toward Marcus. But her hand had drifted to the hilt of her sword.

Lady Aquitaine made an impatient sound and flicked a hand. The air suddenly took on the tight, somewhat muffled feeling of a windcrafting meant to prevent any eavesdroppers from listening to a conversation. "Arnos, restrain yourself. His hood stays where it is."

"Why?"

"Because you’re a brilliant politician, Senator," Marcus replied. "But you’re a novice conspirator. I am currently in a position of extreme value. If you are allowed to know who I am, your incompetence will undoubtedly send the entire plan to the crows."

Arnos’s mouth dropped open and hung there for a moment.

Marcus took the opportunity to savor the look on the fool’s face.

"Indelicately put," Lady Aquitaine said, giving Marcus an arch glance. "But essentially accurate." She held up a mollifying hand. "You’re a politician and strategist, Arnos. Not a spy. If we were all equally skilled at everything, there’d be no need for alliances, would there?"

The Senator’s face flushed dark crimson. "And this one? What skills does he bring to the table?"

"I know things, Senator."

Arnos lifted his chin. "Such as?"

"That you have a talent for finding capable employees, for one," Marcus said. He nodded at one of the hooded men on guard. "Aresius Flavis. Twice champion of the Wintersend Arms Tournament in Alera Imperia. The man who killed the current High Lord of Rhodes’s elder brother in a fair duel on the lawn outside the Grey Tower.

"The young woman watching the door is, I believe, Iris the Hawk. She was quite famous for her archery along the Shieldwall, and happened to slay half a dozen of Lord Kalarus’s Immortal assassins while protecting Lady Voria on the Night of the Red Stars. Lady Voria was the only survivor of the attack on her guesthouse."

The cloaked figure by the door turned to stare at Fidelias. Then she nodded briefly. He nodded back to her. "The man at the rear wall is called Tandus. He’s a mute. He’s served in half a dozen different Legions as both a Knight Ferrous and Knight Terra. He’s famous for single-handedly storming the gates of Lord Gardus’s stronghold, when Gardus abducted some freeman’s daughter. He killed thirty men taking her back."

Lady Aquitaine’s gaze never left the Senator’s face, but her quiet smile slowly grew.

"And him," Marcus said, nodding to the last man, the one nearest the table. "Rivar Armenius. He’s young, a Knight Aeris and Ferrous, and claims to have the fastest sword arm in Alera. He’s won eleven duels against established teaching masters, nine of them fatal."

Armenius’s cloaked figure turned toward them briefly. Then he drew the hood back from young, handsome features, and said, "Ten. Maestro Piter took a lung fever of his injuries."

Marcus inclined his head slightly. "Ten." He turned his gaze to the last member of the Senator’s singulares. "And, of course, Phrygiar Navaris. One of the more dangerous professionals alive. Utterly reliable-provided she does not lose her temper."

Navaris’s hand continued slowly stroking the hilt of her blade.

Arnos stared venomously at Marcus. He folded his hands on the table, lips pressed into a thin line. "I’m not moving ahead blind, my Lady. Show me this man’s face."

"Or what, Arnos?" Lady Aquitaine asked, her voice almost poisonously reasonable. "You’ll walk away?"

"Why wouldn’t I?"

"Perhaps because I know what happened to the first captain appointed to the First Senatorial. His name was Argavus, I believe. So odd that he vanished the night before you marched." Lady Aquitaine’s gaze drifted to Navaris. "It would be a shame if someone mentioned the location of the body to the civic legion. An investigation might turn up all sorts of unpleasant facts."

Arnos shrugged, unfazed. "I’ve endured investigations before. Tiresome, but I manage."

"Yes. It’s easier to pass the time when one has so many appetites to indulge." Her eyes shifted back to Arnos, and despite the worn exterior she had adopted, her smile turned sultry, predatory. "I can’t help but wonder how often you’ve endured the wrath of a jealous husband. You do remember the wreckage at the piers four years ago?"

The blood drained from Arnos’s face. "You wouldn’t."

"It’s a card I’ll only get to play once. I’d prefer not to use it on you, dear Arnos." Her gaze was unwavering. "You are, of course, welcome to unleash your hounds if you think it might do you any good."

Marcus already had a knife in either hand under his cloak. He’d take the Senator himself, and then Armenius, the cutter standing closest to the table. Whatever Lady Aquitaine did, it would be violent, and best used against the more distant opponents, so he would handle those nearest. He was sure she’d be thinking the same thing.

Granted, he wasn’t nearly as quick as he had once been. Arnos wouldn’t pose a problem, but the young duelist might well prove more formidable. Marcus was certain that he’d have had little chance against the young cutter in a fair fight. It was the main reason he avoided them wherever possible.

Arnos was silent for a long minute, his forehead beaded with sweat, and the tension in the room grew. Then the Senator looked away, chin lifted haughtily. "It’s senseless to bicker at this point, dear Invidia, when there is so much work to be done."

A small smile graced her mouth. "I’m glad we agree."

Marcus tried not to exhale visibly in relief and slipped the knives away again.

"I’ve ordered the Legions to march forth against the Canim. What do you see as our next step?"

"Rufus Scipio," she said. "He’s dangerous."

Arnos arched an eyebrow. "You can’t be serious. He’s little more than a boy. A good showman for his men, tremendously lucky to be in the right place at the right time, nothing more."

"I’m less concerned with what he is than what he might become. Mistakes happen, Arnos, but it’s best if he’s gone before the Legions march. Can you see to it this time?"

At the shabby bar, Navaris’s fingers began caressing the hilt of her blade.

"My lady," Marcus said, "if I may."