by Jim Butcher
"Let me worry about that, Max. Get moving. I'm going to send word to Cyril to find out if-"
"Captain," Araris interrupted.
Tavi glanced back at the singulare, who nodded down the line. Tavi turned to see Kitai thundering up the column toward him, with Enna and a dozen Marat trailing her. As they slowed, Max released the windcrafting that surrounded them, saluted Tavi, and turned his horse to head back down the column.
The Marat came to a halt in a blowing, disorderly clump all around them as Kitai drew her horse up beside Tavi's, her lovely face expressionless. The Marat called to one another, trading what were apparently gibes and boasts in their own tongue. Several of the younger riders, as restless and energetic as their mounts, continued dancing in circles around the larger group, their horses shaking their heads and rearing from time to time.
Tavi turned intent eyes to Kitai right away. It might have looked sloppy and exuberant, but the Marat had long since worked out their own method to veil conversations from any windcrafters who might be attempting to listen from afar.
Kitai's leg bumped against Tavi's as their horses walked, and he could sense the tension in her. They stretched out their hands to one another at the same time and briefly entwined their fingers. "Chala," Kitai said. "I worried for you during the battle."
"You worried for meT Tavi asked. He couldn't help but smile a little. "You were the one leading an attack on an enemy position."
Kitai sniffed. "That was nothing. I didn't get close enough to lift a blade." She cast a general glower around them at the Marat of the Horse Clan. "They got there first."
"Still. It was well-done."
She arched a pale eyebrow at him. "Yes. Of course it was." Her haughty expression faltered, though, and she glanced around them, making sure that no one was close enough to overhear them through the cacophony of the Horse Clan. "There is something you must see."
Tavi nodded at once, flashed a hand signal to the First Spear, and turned his horse out of the slow column of marching men. Kitai's horse wheeled perfectly in time with his, and he supposed that an outsider looking on would have thought that he was leading her and not the other way around. The Marat escort joined them as they cantered to the east and away from the column.
They rode for most of two miles, by Tavi's estimate, the sharp rise of the bluff on their right, until they reached a small copse that had grown up where a burbling spring spilled water down from the higher ground. Two Marat horses were grazing on fresh spring grass outside the trees.
The little company rode up to the copse and dismounted. Tavi passed Acteon's reins over to Enna, and followed Kitai into the trees.
"We took a prisoner, chala" she said without preamble, her pace never slowing. "An Aleran. A messenger."
Tavi hissed in sudden excitement. "Yes? What did he say?"
"That he would speak only to you."
They brushed through a few yards of undersized evergreens that hid whatever was beyond them from view. When they emerged, Tavi found himself in a small clearing, where a pair of Marat warriors stood with bows in hand and arrows on strings, calmly regarding a man seated on the ground between them.
Tavi blinked and lifted his eyebrows, recognizing the man-the rebel scout he'd subdued back at his aborted ambush of the Canim column. The man was wearing the same clothes, minus all his gear, which had been placed in a neat pile several feet away from him.
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 sco
wled 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.
Tavi took a moment to scan his surroundings. If he needed to flee suddenly, he wanted to know which direction offered him the best chance of evading pursuit. More to the point, he was sure that Nasaug was not the only Cane present. Tavi couldn't see them, but the wolflike beings rarely operated in anything but groups.
Tavi nudged Acteon forward, and the horse snorted and tossed his head at the feral predator smell of the Cane. He sidestepped for a nervous second, but Tavi guided him forward with a light touch on the reins, and the battle-trained mount continued, until they stopped perhaps ten feet from Nasaug.
"Captain," Nasaug growled. His voice was a deep, resonant thing, though his Aleran was chewed and mangled by his fangs and jaws as he spoke it. He tilted his head slightly to the right.
"Nasaug," Tavi replied, mirroring the gesture. "Where's my man?"
The Cane's ears twitched in what Tavi recognized as a gesture of approval. Nasaug growled something under his breath, and another Cane, smaller, his fur grizzled and thick with scars, appeared from around the trunk of the tree, leading Ehren with him.
The Cursor's wrists were bound with leather straps, his shirt was smeared with grime, and there were dark circles under his eyes, but other than that he seemed whole.
Tavi reached into a pocket and withdrew the black ludus piece Nasaug had sent. He tossed it to the Canim leader, who caught it with a casual flick of one pawlike hand.
Nasaug nodded to Tavi and growled something else. The older Cane drew a knife from his belt, and Tavi felt himself tense up. His concerns were groundless. The knife parted Ehren's bonds, and then the old Cane returned it to its sheath.
"Go to your captain," Nasaug growled.
Ehren eyed him warily but walked quickly over to stand beside Tavi.
"You all right?" Tavi asked.
"Mostly embarrassed," Ehren said. "They caught me before I could approach them openly."
Tavi nodded, drew his knife from his belt, and offered the hilt to Ehren. The Cursor took it with a nod of thanks, and promptly turned to watch their backs.
"You returned a scout to me," Nasaug growled. "I return one to you. The scales between us are balanced."
"Agreed," Tavi said. "Your troops fought well today."
"We do what we must," Nasaug replied. "Why do you wish to speak with me?"
"To discuss a solution to our problems."
"Problems," Nasaug said. A bubbling snarl that was the Canim equivalent of a chuckle vibrated through the word. "Of which problem do you speak?"
"I have come to believe that our peoples are dying needlessly," Tavi replied. "This war profits neither your Realm nor mine."
"We fight for our lives, Captain," Nasaug growled. "Another day is profit enough for me."
"And we fight to defend against an invader," Tavi replied. "We both have motivation in plenty to wage a war. But it is my hope that there is mutual advantage to be gained by peace."
Nasaug's gleaming black eyes narrowed, and his ears remained perfectly still, focused on Tavi. "Explain."
"I want you to leave Alera," Tavi said. "But it makes no difference to me how you go, so long as you are gone." He gave Nasaug a small smile, showing a few teeth. "We both know that you can't hold out forever. Even if you defeat these Legions, others will be raised and sent against you. And still others will be should they fall. You're too badly outnumbered, and you know it. Sooner or later, Alera will grind you into dust."
Nasaug's chest rumbled with a warning growl-but he said nothing to contradict Tavi's statement. "I will not surrender to your kind."
"I would never ask it of you," Tavi replied.
"What, then?"
"Tell me how long it will take you to finish your ships."
Nasaug's lips peeled back from his teeth in surprise. He growled something in Canish that Tavi didn't catch, before saying, "Longer than I would prefer."
"My new commander believes you intend to employ them against Alera."
"Ships carry troops," Nasaug said. "I don't need them to take my troops to Alera. They are already here."
"You want to go home," Tavi said quietly.
Nasaug was silent for most of a minute before he answered Tavi, his rumbling voice barely audible. "Yes."
"In other words," Tavi said, "I want you gone-and you want to leave. It seems to me that we are each in a position to solve the other's problem."
"In a rational world, perhaps," Nasaug said, "but we are in Alera."
Tavi nodded. "We are. Because Sari led your people here."
"Sari." Nasaug's voice rumbled with harsh rage, and one of his feet flicked backward, scattering dirt and old leaves. "He was a coward and a fool."
"You never truly supported him," Tavi said. "That's why he burned your ships behind you."
Nasaug said nothing.
"Why?" Tavi asked him. "Why did you follow him here?"
"He had the proper authority. I had orders. It was my duty to follow them, no matter how insane they might seem."
"I understand," Tavi said, unable to stop a wry note from entering his voice.
"And he had…" Nasaug let out a growl of frustration. "There is no Aleran word. He had charge of many warrior-caste families."
"Hostages?"
Nasaug made a small slashing motion with one paw-hand. "Not the same."
Tavi frowned. "But Sari does not command you now."
"No," Nasaug said.
"Given the chance, would you depart peacefully?"
The Cane tilted his head to one side, eyes narrowing. "Your forces have begun a war season against us. They do not seek a peace."
"What if that changed?" Tavi asked. "What if the First Lord ordered them to go no further? Would you be willing to withdraw your support from High Lord Kalarus and enter a truce until your departure?"
Again the Cane entered a pensive silence.
Tavi pressed him. "There has to be a reason Sari did what he did, Nasaug. He loaded every boat he could find with every Cane he could find and sailed them a
cross the full breadth of the sea to land here. He was a coward, and we both know it. He was running from something, wasn't he?"
Nasaug remained still.
"If he was running from what I think he was," Tavi said quietly, "then you and your men are badly needed at home. The Legions are coming for Mastings, Nasaug. If they take it, they will burn your ships and any hope you have of returning home. Even if they don't take it, this time, they will bleed your ranks, attack your supply lines, and hinder your shipwrights in every way they can imagine." He leaned forward, meeting the Cane's eyes. "The fastest way for you to get home with the strongest possible force is to agree to this truce."
Tavi settled slowly back in his saddle and watched Nasaug, waiting.
"Captain," he said, after a time. "You are gadara. But not all Alerans are."
"Gadara," Tavi said, frowning. "Enemy?"
Nasaug made another slashing negative gesture. "Not the same. You have my respect. But you do not lead them. You do not speak in the voice of Gaius Sextus. And your people have proven to us, many times, that they are not worthy of trust."
Tavi frowned. "How so?"
"Because you are monsters," Nasaug replied, his tone implying that he was stating the perfectly obvious. "You are worse than starving beasts. You slaughter one another by the thousands over matters of leadership. Your people crush those without power and take whatsoever they wish from them for the simple reason that they can." The Cane's muzzle lifted in a gesture of contempt. "You betray, enslave, and brutalize your own kind, Aleran. Your own. If you treat your own folk this way, what fool could possibly believe you would act any differently toward mine?"
Tavi felt himself rock back a little at the vehemence in Nasaug's voice. He had never really considered things from that point of view. Slavery, of course, had been a problem for years. It would likely continue to be one for years more. The furycrafting-based system of Citizenship, title, and privilege was utterly inflexible, and how well he had known the futility of laboring beneath it.
Nasaug continued. "We came upon those you had enslaved and set them free. And because we had done it, when they sought arms to defend that freedom, we supported them. But I know, and you know, that your Legions will not rest until they have been destroyed-for seizing what by rights should belong to all."