Captain's Fury (Page 40)

The scout glanced up at him and blinked twice before his own eyes widened in recognition. "You," he said. "Bloody crows."

Tavi felt one corner of his mouth lift in a smile. "Good afternoon," he said. "We’ve got to stop meeting like this."

The scout looked uncertain for a moment, then barked out a short laugh. "Aye, m’lord."

"I’m no lord," Tavi replied. "Rufus Scipio, Captain of the First Aleran."

The man bowed his head slightly. "Captain. My name is Durias. I’m a centurion of the First Freehold Legion auxiliaries."

"Freehold, centurion?" Tavi asked.

"The capital city of Free Alera, Captain." He lifted his chin with a slight but undeniable glitter of defiance in his eyes. "Our capital. The freemen’s capital."

Tavi nodded. "I see. I’m told you bear a message."

The man nodded and slipped a hand inside his tunic.

Both Marat drew their bows, and the deadly steel tips gleamed as they oriented on Durias. In the same instant, Kitai’s sword hissed from its sheath.

Durias froze, his eyes very wide. He licked his lips, glancing back and forth between the weapons and Tavi.

"Slowly, centurion," Tavi said, keeping his voice calm. "You’ll have to excuse my friends. We’ve had problems with more than one assassin, and they tend to err on the side of caution."

Durias swallowed and-very slowly-withdrew a small bundle of cloth from beneath his tunic. He bowed his head and offered it out to Tavi on both of his upturned palms. "Nasaug bade me give you this," he said quietly.

Kitai stalked forward and took the cloth, then returned with it to Tavi’s side. Tavi frowned down at the cloth. It looked vaguely familiar. Then he realized what he was holding. A plain, worn tunic-specifically, Ehren’s tunic, the one he’d been wearing when Tavi had last seen him.

Tavi’s fingers trembled a little in their hurry to unfold the cloth, revealing the tunic’s contents. Two ludus pieces resided within. One was a white le-gionare, the missing piece from his own set. The second was a Knight of black stone, from a much larger, less finely carved set.

Tavi chewed on his lower lip and nodded absently to the Marat guards. They eased back on their bowstrings, relaxing once more, their expressions never changing.

"I recognize it," Tavi said quietly. "Did he send anything else with you?"

Durias nodded. "Nasaug said to tell you that in most games, this would be a poor trade, but that it is one he is willing to offer, provided you-and only you-come to speak to him."

Tavi frowned at the messenger. "Where? When?"

"Immediately, Captain," Durias said. "He is nearby. I am to lead you to him."

"And if I refuse?"

Durias smiled a little and spread his hands. "Then Nasaug will have exchanged a legionareiox a Knight, and profited thereby."

Tavi considered the pieces on Ehren’s tunic for a moment. "Nasaug plays ludus well," he said. "Surely he would think me a fool to sacrifice a First Lord for the sake of a Knight."

"He offers you safe conduct, Captain."

Tavi folded the tunic back over the pieces. "And what does he offer as a guarantee?"

Durias regarded Tavi steadily. "His word."

Tavi drew in a deep breath. This could very well be a trap. The Canim were cunning and ruthless when it came to warfare. It was, in fact, a point of pride to them. In war, there was no such thing as cheating, no rules, no mercy. Tavi had no doubt that Nasaug would not hesitate to deny his enemy a valuable resource like Ehren-unless there was a greater gain to be had in keeping him alive.

Simultaneously, though, the Canim of the warrior caste seemed to adhere to a rigid standard of honor. They respected strength, courage, and skill, and Tavi had somehow managed to demonstrate all three during the first desperate days of battle at the Elinarch.

Tavi clenched a fist in frustration. This wasn’t merely an offer to parley. It was a test of his commitment to the concept. Nasaug would not make a second offer. To say nothing of the fact that Ehren’s life hung in the balance.

Tavi could not afford to let this opportunity pass by, and Nasaug knew it.

Which made it a perfect trap.

Which, in turn, made it a perfect test.

Which made it an opportunity he could not afford to…

Tavi shook his head before the circular logic made him dizzy.

He had to try.

"Chala," Kitai whispered, brushing her fingers against his arm. "Are you sure?"

He turned to look her in the eye. "No."

"But you’ll go anyway."

"They have Ehren," he said.

She scowled at him, clearly unhappy with his response. "This is foolish."

"Maybe," he agreed.

"Stubborn. Proud. Stupid." She sighed and leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the mouth, her lips warm and sweet. She settled back again, and said, "I would hit you on the head with a rock and drag you away from this. But it would only shatter the rock."

Tavi gave her a quick, warm smile, and turned to the captive scout. "Very well, centurion, get your gear. Whatever happens, this ought to be an interesting conversation."

Chapter 15

Durias set off at a quick pace, and the former slave’s stocky body moved with surprising grace and speed over the open ground. If Tavi had not been mounted, he would barely have been able to keep the pace, despite having kept himself in training for overland marches beside his own men. As it was, Acteon followed Durias at a lazy canter, and the miles passed by. The bluff beside them gradually dwindled to a steep hillside, then blended into the gently rolling terrain of the Vale.

After about an hour, Durias swerved to the right, leading Tavi into a young wood. They passed through it and descended into a narrow ravine that Tavi could not even see until Durias stepped into it. The ravine wound along an ancient streambed, and the roots of trees dangled out of the rough earth-and-stone walls on either side of him. The path at the bottom of the ravine divided several times, and finally ascended into an old-growth wood, completely enclosed by a canopy of fresh spring leaves. The earth was covered with low grasses, and those sparse enough. Shafts of sunlight peeked through the trees, here and there, and the sound of the wind in the leaves was a constant, murmuring susurrus.

Nasaug was waiting for them.

Tavi recognized the enormous, black-furred Cane at once. Most of nine feet tall, even in his hunched, casual posture, the Cane wore armor of bloodred steel, and bore an enormous, slightly curved sword in a scabbard at his side. His ears flicked forward, orienting on Tavi and Durias, and Tavi saw Nasaug’s nostrils flare as he quested for their scents.