Furies of Calderon ca-1

by Jim Butcher

  "Everything's still in chaos out there," Aldrick said. "The Alerans are confused, there are many wounded, and some of the buildings are on fire. The Wolves fled and left the Herdbanes to rot. Most of them fought to the death, and they're still flushing them out of attics and basements."

  Fidelias nodded. "The men?"

  "Banged up pretty well. We're going to be paying off a lot of death benefits. If we can get out of Garrison, we should be able to rendevous with them. Can you stand?"

  "Yes." Fidelias squinted over toward Odiana and limped toward her.

  She crouched beside the nearly still form of a huge, grimy holder. Broken crates lay all over him, along with spilled slate shingles. The man was obviously crippled, and he was not conscious.

  Odiana was touching his hair with gentle fingers and smiled at Aldrick as he and Fidelias approached. Then she leaned forward and touched the man's head. "Wake up, Master Kord."

  Kord shivered, and his eyelids fluttered open. After a moment, he shivered and focused on them. Fear touched his features.

  Odiana leaned down, smiling, and kissed his forehead.

  Aldrick rested the tip of his sword lightly against Kord's cheek. "Take off the collar," he said. "Now."

  Kord licked his lips and whispered, "Why should I?"

  Aldrick pressed the tip of the sword into Kord's skin. The man cringed away. "All right. All right." He reached up and fumbled at the collar. Odiana shivered as it came free, holding it and staring at it.

  "We should go," Fidelias said.

  Odiana murmured, "One thing more, Master. I have a gift for you before I leave."

  "Wait," Kord stammered. "I did what you said. I took the collar off."

  Odiana leaned down to look into Kord's eyes and murmured, "Isana is too kind a person to kill you, Kord. She's too good a person to kill you. And, you poor thing." She kissed his forehead again. "So am I."

  She took the scalps Aldrick had brought, and draped one of them over Kord's arm. Then tucked one through his belt and left the third wrapped about his wrist. "These are scalps of the Horse Clan," Odiana said. "They take scalping very seriously. And they're emptying the buildings one by one,

  looking for enemies. They should be here any moment, poor Master. They're going to tear the heart from your chest and eat it while it still beats. You'll get to see part of it." She let out a sigh and turned to Aldrick. "But we won't?"

  He shook his head. "But it's a pretty morning at least. Time to go, love."

  Odiana watched his mouth, then thrust out her lower lip, but stepped to Aldrick's side and rested her hand on his arm.

  Fidelias grimaced, glancing down at the scalp-draped Steadholder. Then he turned to walk away.

  Kord clutched at his ankle. "Wait. Please. Don't leave me here. Don't leave me here for those animals."

  Fidelias paused long enough to grind his heel down on the man's fingers and then walked away, wearily pulling up the woodcrafting that would shelter him, Aldrick, and Odiana from view while they slipped out of the battle-ravaged fortress.

  They left the warehouse and saw a half-dozen of the Horse Clan dart inside, weapons in hand. In less than a minute, Kord began to scream. Long, drawn out, agonized, terrified, horrible screams.

  Odiana leaned her head against Aldrick's shoulder and murmured, "You're right, my lord. It is a lovely morning."

  Chapter 46

  Tavi woke up in bed, in a room in Bernardholt used mostly when there were extra guests at hand. He felt tired, thirsty, but except for a mild ache, he did not hurt. He moved his legs and felt some kind of short breeches on them.

  "I don't know why," his uncle's voice rumbled from a bed nearby. "She bent over me and I thought she was going to cut my throat. Then she crafted the wound shut instead. Said she didn't want me to bleed to death."

  Amara's voice held a frown. "Did she say anything?"

  "Yes. To tell Isana that they were even."

  Tavi sat up and looked around. His uncle sat in the bed beside him, white bandages wrapped around him from where his belly showed at the

  edge of the sheets to under his arms. He looked pale, and bruises marred his shoulders and half of his face, but he smiled when he saw Tavi. "Well, well. We thought you'd sleep forever."

  Tavi let out a glad cry and threw himself across the space of beds at his uncle, hugging him tightly.

  Bernard laughed. "Careful, careful. I'm delicate." His arms folded around Tavi and hugged him back. "Good to see you, boy."

  Amara, dressed in a blouse and skirts of rich brown, smiled at him. "Hello, Tavi."

  He flashed the Cursor a smile and looked back at Bernard. "But how?" Tavi asked. "How did you live?"

  "Odiana," Bernard said. "That water witch that attacked you in the river. Your aunt saved her from being killed by Kord. She was hiding among the corpses at the base of the wall. She saved me. Fade, too."

  Tavi shook his head. "I don't care who did it, as long as you're all right."

  Bernard laughed again. "What I am," he said, "is hungry. You?"

  Tavi's stomach grew queasy. "Not yet, Uncle."

  Amara turned to a pitcher nearby and poured water into a cup for Tavi, handing it to him. "Drink up. Once you get liquid back in you, you'll be hungry, right enough."

  Tavi nodded his thanks to her and drank. His hand, the one that had been broken, felt a little weak, and he switched the cup to the other. "You're all right, too?"

  She smiled, a wan expression. "Alive. Some scars. I'll be all right."

  "I'm sorry," Tavi said. "I lost the dagger."

  Amara shook her head. "You've nothing to be sorry for, Tavi. You stood against two men who have killed more people between them than anyone I know of. It was very brave. You shouldn't feel ashamed for not getting the dagger."

  "But without it, Aquitaine gets away with it. You can't prove he's guilty, right?"

  Amara frowned. "I'd be careful what I said, if I were you, Tavi. If someone overhears you, you may face prosecution yourself for slander."

  "But it's the truth!"

  She half-smiled. "Not without the dagger. Without that, it's just a suspicion."

  Tavi frowned. "That's stupid."

  Amara laughed, a sudden, bright sound. "Yes," she agreed. "But look at it this way. You saved the Valley and who knows how many steadholts beyond it. You're a hero."

  Tavi blinked. "Uh. I am?"

  Amara nodded, her expression grave. "I filed my report yesterday. The First Lord himself is coming out tomorrow to present several people with rewards for their courage."

  Tavi shook his head. "I'm not very courageous. I don't feel like a hero."

  Amara's eyes sparkled. "Perhaps you will, later."

  Isana walked briskly into the room, wearing fresh clothing and a crisp apron. "Tavi," she said, her tone brisk. "Get back into bed this instant."

  Tavi leapt for the covers.

  Isana frowned at Bernard. "And you. Bernard, you know I told you to make the boy stay in bed."

  He grinned, sheepishly. "Oh, right."

  Isana stepped over to her brother and touched his temples. "Hmph. Well you're not going to cause chaos in here any longer. Get your lazy bones out of bed and go eat."

  Bernard grinned and leaned forward, giving Isana a kiss on the forehead. "Whatever the watercrafter orders."

  "Bah. Amara, are you still feeling well? No fever, no nausea?"

  Amara shook her head, smiling, and turned her back tactfully when Bernard rose to pull on his trousers and a loose tunic, moving stiffly. "I'm fine, Mistress Isana. You did a wonderful job."

  "Good. Now get out. The boy needs to rest."

  Bernard smiled and ruffled Tavi's hair. Then he stepped up beside Amara and took her hand. The Cursor blinked and looked down at his hand, then back up at his face. She smiled, and her cheeks flushed with color.

  "Oh go on," Isana said, and slapped Bernard's shoulder. He grinned, and the two walked out of the room. They weren't walking very quickly, Tavi noticed. And they walked ver
y close together.

  Isana turned to Tavi and put her fingers on his temples, then smiled at him. "How are you feeling?"

  "Thirsty, ma'am."

  She smiled and refilled his cup. "I was so worried. Tavi, I'm so proud of what you have done. Everyone in the Valley thinks you're quite the young hero."

  Tavi blinked at her and sipped at his drink. "Do I… you know. Have to do anything? Learn to make speeches or something?"

  She laughed and kissed his forehead. "Just rest. You're a brave person, Tavi, and you think about others more than yourself, when hard times come. Always remember who you are." She rose. "There are some visitors coming, but I don't want you to talk to them for very long. Drink your water and then get some more sleep. I'll bring up some food later this evening, when you're ready."

  "Yes, ma'am," Tavi said. He watched her walk toward the door, and just before she left, he asked her, "Aunt Isana? Who is Araris Valerian?"

  Isana stopped in the doorway, frowning. She drew a breath. "He… he was one of the royal guardsmen. One of Princeps Septimus's personal bodyguards. A famous swordsman."

  "Did he die with the Princeps?"

  She turned to face him and said, very quietly, very firmly, "Yes, Tavi. He died. Fifteen years ago. Do you understand?"

  "But-"

  "Tavi." Isana sighed. "I need you to trust me. Please, Tavi. Just for a little while."

  He swallowed and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

  Isana smiled at him, wearily. "Here are your visitors. Remember, don't talk for too long."

  She slipped out. A moment later, Doroga ducked his head to slip beneath the doorway and strode into the room. The huge Marat headman was dressed in his loincloth, together with a cloak with a mantle of thanadent feathers and a garish, pale red tunic. Aleran boots dangled in his belt, though his own feet were bare, and rings decorated every finger. His left arm was in a sling, swollen and discolored, but he seemed in good spirits and smiled at Tavi, moving to his bed and crushing his hand in a friendly, monstrous grip.

  Behind him walked Kitai, scowling, dressed in a loincloth and wearing an Aleran tunic carelessly stained with food and dirt. Her long, pale hair had been pulled back into a neat braid, revealing the delicate curves of her cheekbones and neck.

  "Well, young warrior," Doroga said. "I have paid you back for saving my whelp-"

  "Daughter," Kitai interjected. "I am not a whelp anymore, father."

  "Daughter," Doroga rumbled, with an expansive smile. "You saved my daughter, and I paid you back for it. But then you saved me as well. I find myself still in your debt."

  "I didn't do anything," Tavi said.

  "You shouted a warning to me, Tavi," Doroga said. "Without it, I would have died." He squeezed Tavi's shoulders, and Tavi briefly thought something was going to break again. "Thank you."

  "But what I did was small. You're the one who did all the big things. You led a horde against another horde, sir. A horde of your own people."

  "I set out to repay my debt to you," Doroga said. "Finish what you set out to do. It is part of being a man." Doroga smiled at him and rose. "Kitai."

  Kitai scowled.

  Doroga frowned at her.

  Kitai rolled her eyes and snapped, to Tavi, "Thank you. For saving my life."

  Tavi blinked mildly at her. "Um. Sure."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Don't think I'm going to forget it, either."

  Tavi thought that it sounded a great deal more like a threat than a promise. "Uh. No. I don't think that."

  Kitai's scowl deepened, though something around her eyes softened at the words. "I am going to learn to ride a horse," she stated. "If it is all right with you."

  "Uh. Sure, whatever. Good, that's great, Kitai." Tavi glanced at Doroga, hopefully.

  Doroga rolled his eyes and sighed. Then said, "We should go. Your headman wants to thank me tomorrow, and Kitai should wash her tunic."

  Kitai snapped, "Whelps wear tunics. It is foolish to make me wear this one. I don't like it, I don't want it. Why shouldn't I wear what the rest of the Marat women wear?"

  "You want to walk around here naked like that?" Tavi demanded. "Are you crazy? Dress like a normal person while you're here."

  Doroga abruptly smiled at Tavi, his face stretching into a broad grin. "Good. That is good."

  Kitai folded her arms and shot Tavi a look that could have crumbled stones to dust. Tavi sank a bit under the sheets. Kitai made a sound of disgust and stalked out of the room.

  Doroga broke into a rumbling laugh and ruffled Tavi's hair in a gesture

  peculiarly like Uncle Bernard's. "Doomed, young warrior. Doomed. But her mother and I started off that way."

  Tavi blinked. "What?"

  "We will see one another again." Doroga turned to go.

  "What?" Tavi said again. "Her mother what? Doroga, wait!"

  Doroga didn't slow, rumbling out a low laugh as he left the room. "Remember what I said, Tavi. We will speak again."

  Tavi settled back on the bed, scowling, folding his arms, pensive. He had the definite impression that he had gotten in over his head, somewhere along the way.

  Tavi frowned, pondering. "Finish what I started."

  There was a gentle knock at the doorway, and Tavi looked up to see Fade's scarred, homely face smiling in at him from the hall. "Tavi," Fade said, his tone happy.

  Tavi smiled. "Hello, Fade. Come in?"

  Fade shuffled inside, eyes vacant, carrying a long package of red cloth.

  "What's this?" Tavi asked.

  "Present," Fade said. "Present, Tavi." He offered the cloth bundle to him.

  Tavi reached out to take it and found it heavier than he expected. He lay it on his lap and unwrapped the cloth from around it. The cloth turned out to be one of the scarlet capes from the Princeps' Memorium, and wrapped within it, in an old and travel worn scabbard, was the battered old blade Amara had carried from the Memorium, and that Fade had used upon the wall.

  Tavi looked up at Fade, who smiled witlessly at him. "For you."

  Tavi frowned. "You don't have to keep up the act, Fade," he said quietly.

  For a moment, something glittered in Fade's eyes, above the coward's brand on his cheek. He regarded Tavi in silence for a moment and then gave him a deliberate wink. "For you," he repeated in that same voice, and then turned to go.

  Tavi looked up to see a man standing in the doorway. He was tall, broad of shoulder and long of limb. His face did not look much older than his uncle's, but there was something about his faded green eyes that spoke of more years than were evident. Silver streaked his hair, and a heavy cloak of plain, grey fabric covered him except for what his hood revealed of his face.

  Fade drew in a sharp breath.

  "A princely gift," the man murmured. "Are you sure it is yours to give, slave?"

  Fade lifted his chin, and Tavi saw the slave's shoulders straighten. "For Tavi."

  The man in the doorway narrowed his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders. "Leave us. I would speak to him alone."

  Fade glanced warily back at Tavi and then nodded his head deeply to the stranger. He shuffled out the door after giving Tavi another witless smile, and vanished into the hall.

  The stranger shut the door quietly behind Fade and moved to sit down on the bed beside Tavi's, his green eyes never leaving the boy. "Do you know me?"

  Tavi shook his head.

  The stranger smiled. "My name is Gaius Sextus."

  Tavi felt his mouth drop open. He sat up straight, stammering. "Oh. Sir. Sire, I didn't recognize you, I'm sorry."

  Gaius held up a gloved hand in a soothing gesture. "No, stay in bed. You need your rest."

  "I thought you were coming tomorrow, sire."

  "Yes. But I came here incognito this evening."

  "Why?"

  "I wanted to speak with you, Tavi. It would seem that I am in your debt."

  Tavi swallowed. "I was just trying to get my sheep home, sir. That's all I meant to happen, I mean. After that, everything just sort of…"r />
  "Got complicated?" Gaius suggested.

  Tavi flushed and nodded. "Exactly."

  "That's how these things happen. I don't want to keep you up long, so I'll come to the point. I owe you. Name your reward, and you'll have it."

  Tavi blinked at the First Lord, his mouth falling open again. "Anything?" he asked.

  "Within reason."

  "Then I want you to help the holders who got hurt, and the families of those who were killed. Winter's coming on, and it's going to be hard for all of us."

  Gaius lifted both eyebrows and tilted his head to one side. "Truly? Given anything to choose from, that is your choice of rewards?"

  Tavi felt his jaw set, stubbornly. He met Gaius's eyes with his own, and nodded.

  Gaius murmured, "Amazing." The First Lord shook his head. "Very well. I'll have Crown aid dispensed to those who suffered loss on a case-by-case basis by the local Count. Fair enough?"

  "Yes, sire. Thank you."

  "Let me add one thing more to that, Tavi. My Cursor tells me that you wish to attend the Academy."

  Tavi's heart thudded abruptly in his chest. "Yes, sire. More than anything."

  "It might be difficult for someone with your… limitations, shall we say? You will be in the company of the sons and daughters of merchants and nobles and wealthy houses from all over Alera. Many of them strong crafters. It may provide you with a great many challenges."

  "I don't care," Tavi blurted. "I don't care about that, sire. I can handle myself."

  Gaius regarded him for a moment, then nodded. "I believe you can. Then if you will accept it, it will be done. I will give you patronage for your attendance at the Academy and assist you in choosing your fields of study. You will be Academ Tavi Patronus Gaius. Go to the capital. The Academy. See what you can make of your life given a chance, hmm?"

  Tavi's head spun, and he felt his eyes fill with tears. He blinked them many times, trying to hide the tears. "Sire. Sire, you don't know what it means to me. Thank you."

  Gaius smiled, and the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled up as he did. "Rest, then. Tomorrow will be all ceremony and display. But please know that you have my gratitude, young man. And my respect."