"Because you agreed to follow me," Tavi said. "Because you agreed to follow me," Tavi said. "I might already have been dead." "I might already have been dead." "There was no way to know that until I went down to look." "There was no way to know that until I went down to look." Varg grunted. "You could have been killed in coming." Varg grunted. "You could have been killed in coming." Tavi shrugged. "I wasn't." Tavi shrugged. "I wasn't."

Varg bared his teeth. "I respect Gaius's power. I respect his intelligence. But I most respect that he understands what it is to lead." He turned toward Tavi and bent his head gently forward, in the Aleran manner. "As I respect you, gadara gadara."

Tavi inclined his head in reply. "Have you eaten?"

Varg coughed out a grunt of laughter. "You have learned what it is to lead warriors." He sounded amused. "These sailors do not like to come near me. I have chosen not to take food from them."

Tavi's eyes widened as he considered what Kitai had told him about Varg's extensive wounds and the crafting that had been required to repair them. "You must be starving."

"I have been hungry before."

Tavi turned to Varg and put the rest of his ship's biscuit on the rail beside the Cane's paw-hand. "Eat that," he said. "I'll see about getting you something more solid."

Varg took the biscuit and tossed it into his jaws. The Cane's teeth crunched the tough block of food as if it had been fresh bread. He flicked his ears in distaste as he worked his jaws, getting the crumbs from between his fangs. "Alerans may be hardier than I thought." He tilted his head and considered Tavi. "The Lady Isana," he growled. "If it is not improper, I would have you convey my respects for her skills."

"Why would you think it improper?" Tavi asked.

Varg picked another shard of ship's biscuit from his teeth with one claw. "Your people have strange customs with regards to mates and offspring. A male may be mated, yet pursue other females. A female may be mated, but bear children of other males, yet pretend they are her mate's offspring, while the mate outwardly acknowledges the children as his own. A man and woman may mate and bear children, but if it is recorded improperly, then shame is visited on the child."

"Shame?"

"Illegitimacy, I have heard it called," Varg said. "Bastard. And you, a child of the House of Gaius, were treated as an outcast. A menial. I do not know if your mother has been visited with shame, or if it would be inappropriate to acknowledge her. The values of such things make no sense to me."

"It's... complicated," Tavi said. "Even by Aleran standards. But it would not be inappropriate for you to thank her for her assistance."

Varg bared his teeth and growled. "I do not offer thanks. Your people need me alive and healthy. It was not an act of charity."

"True enough," Tavi said. "I chose an imprecise phrase. It would not be inappropriate for you to convey your respect for her skills."

Varg narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment. "Among my people, a pack leader handles such matters." Varg narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment. "Among my people, a pack leader handles such matters." Tavi turned to face Varg directly, hand on his sword. "Then I will do so." Tavi turned to face Varg directly, hand on his sword. "Then I will do so." The Cane's chest rumbled again, and he flicked his ears in agreement, turning back to the sea. "It is well." The Cane's chest rumbled again, and he flicked his ears in agreement, turning back to the sea. "It is well." Tavi turned from his confrontational stance as well. "Is there anything else you need?" Tavi turned from his confrontational stance as well. "Is there anything else you need?" Varg growled and flexed his claws. "Information." Varg growled and flexed his claws. "Information." Tavi considered that, and said, "I will give you what I can." Tavi considered that, and said, "I will give you what I can." "I have need," he said. "I have need," he said. "Were our roles reversed, I the prisoner in your land, would you share information openly with me?" "Were our roles reversed, I the prisoner in your land, would you share information openly with me?"

"Were our roles reversed, Aleran, your blood would have been drained into jars long since." He drummed his claws on the rail. "And no. I would not share openly." He nodded once. "Tell me what you can about my people here."

Tavi described the last two years in very general terms, giving Varg no information about the positions of Aleran troops, their capabilities, their logistics, or their vulnerability.

When it was done, Varg's mouth dropped open, his tongue lolling out for a second or two. "Sarl is dead by your hand?" When it was done, Varg's mouth dropped open, his tongue lolling out for a second or two. "Sarl is dead by your hand?" Tavi grinned out at the sea. "It might not have happened if Nasaug hadn't maneuvered him into it." Tavi grinned out at the sea. "It might not have happened if Nasaug hadn't maneuvered him into it." "But you saw it happening," Varg said. "You used it to your advantage." "But you saw it happening," Varg said. "You used it to your advantage." "Yes." "Yes." "And Sarl died by your hand." "And Sarl died by your hand." "Yes." "Yes."

"Well did Nasaug name you gadara gadara," Varg rumbled.

"I have a theory," Tavi said.

One of Varg's ears swiveled around toward him.

"The invasion fleet arrived under desperate circumstances," Tavi said. "Sarl burned their ships behind them. There was a great deal of internal division. A great many ritualists had come with the fleet, and they were clearly dominant." Tavi frowned. "And they had noncombatants with them. I saw a female with young."

Varg's claws dug into the railing. Varg's claws dug into the railing. "It wasn't an invasion force," Tavi said. "It was more like a colony." "It wasn't an invasion force," Tavi said. "It was more like a colony." "I do not know this word," Varg said. "I do not know this word," Varg said.

"It's when you send a group into a new area. They take with them everything they need to begin building their own society and settle down to make a new home."

Varg flicked his ears in acknowledgment.

"After the night of the Vord attack on the First Lord, Sarl vanished. We now know that he was taken from the capital on a ship and went back to his homeland. We hunted for him for weeks, but we never found him." Tavi squinted out ahead of them to the west-toward Varg's home. "We never found the Vord queen, either."

Varg bared his teeth.

"Sarl was already scheming with the Vord. I believe that he took it with him when he ran. I believe he took it back to your homeland and that it got loose. I think that once he realized what was happening, he took hostages to guarantee the cooperation of Nasaug and his warriors, stole everything he could get his hands on, and ran, trusting his scheme with Kalarus to give him a fighting chance."

"That," Varg growled, "was Sarl."

Tavi nodded. "I think," he said quietly, "that your people are in danger. That's why Sarl burned the ships behind him. He knew Nasaug would return to protect your homeland if he didn't. And that's why Nasaug is building a fleet right now."

Varg said nothing. His body language told Tavi nothing. A moment later, he said, "If it is true, Aleran, then your enemies will be laid low. What reason could you have to help Nasaug return and stop this from happening?"

"Are you kidding?" Tavi asked. "Self-interest. If the Vord destroy your people, sooner or later they will come here. If I send you home to fight them, then one of two things will happen. You will overcome them, in which case Alera is faced with a familiar enemy and is no worse off than before. Or they will destroy you, weakening themselves in the process, making them easier for Alera to fight. Either way, we are better off if your people leave."

Varg considered that for a moment. "If you are right, we share an enemy." Varg considered that for a moment. "If you are right, we share an enemy." "I'm right," Tavi said quietly. "I know I'm right." "I'm right," Tavi said quietly. "I know I'm right." The Cane glanced aside at Tavi. "What do you propose?" The Cane glanced aside at Tavi. "What do you propose?" "I return you to Nasaug at Mastings. You finish building your ships and leave." "I return you to Nasaug at Mastings. You finish building your ships and leave."

"So simple," he said. "But it is not so simple, Aleran. You are not honored as your blood should be. Can you compel your Legions to cease fighting? To allow my people to leave?"

Tavi clenched his teeth for a moment but forced himself to admit, "I'm not sure."

"Then how will you accomplish it?"

"I'm not sure," Tavi said. He narrowed his eyes. "Not yet. But it will will happen." happen."

Varg did not reply.

The two of them stood staring out at the shadowed west before them, and for no explicable reason Tavi suddenly felt cold.

Chapter 41

"I don't like it, First Spear," Crassus said quietly. "This was too easy."

They stood within the ruins of an old town on a hill, its name long since forgotten. Odds were that the town had simply withered after the successful port city of Mastings had grown up only a few miles away, but whatever it had once been, centuries had passed since anyone but the occasional traveler or passing deer had lived there.

"I was sure they would have fortified this place," Marcus said. "But I'm just as glad they didn't make us fight to take it."

"Exactly," Crassus said. "They could have-they should should have. And they didn't." have. And they didn't."

"The Canim are good soldiers," Marcus responded. "But that doesn't make them perfect, sir. And there could have been any number of factors that prevented them from using this position against us. Whether they made a mistake or just couldn't get things set up in time, we're better off for it."

"That story sounds weak, Marcus," Crassus said. "Even you think so."

"Weak, sir?" Marcus asked. "Just because the Canim have let us take a position we can fortify beyond their capabilities to assault only miles away from the town they have to protect at all costs, without giving us so much as a nosebleed over taking it? Especially when they know how tough we are from a defensive strong point?" He snorted. "What's weak about that?"

Around them, the First Aleran continued sweeping the overgrown streets, the half-collapsed buildings, checking everything within the tumbledown walls that had once surrounded the town. Both Guard Legions had marched to positions beside the town and were now erecting palisades atop simple earthworks as an outer defensive perimeter around the base of the hill.

The hoofbeats of a trotting horse approached, and Maximus rode his stallion through what had once been someone's living room. He dismounted and flicked the horse's reins around the remains of a chimney, then approached Crassus and saluted.

Crassus returned it. "Well?"

"They had scouts watching the hill," Maximus said. "Canim and mounted rebels. We pursued them, but not too hard."

Crassus nodded at his brother. "The city?" Crassus nodded at his brother. "The city?" Maximus's eyes glittered. "Saw it." Maximus's eyes glittered. "Saw it." "How bad is it?" "How bad is it?"

"Three layers of earthworks," Max said. "Then what looks like a newly crafted outer wall, around the walls of the town itself. And they're all lined with troops."

Marcus let out a low whistle. Marcus let out a low whistle. "How many?" Crassus asked. "How many?" Crassus asked. "Twenty thousand on the walls," Max said. "No idea how many might have been behind them." "Twenty thousand on the walls," Max said. "No idea how many might have been behind them." Crassus spat. "Wonderful." Crassus spat. "Wonderful." "The good news," Marcus said, "is that at least they're doing something we anticipated, sir." "The good news," Marcus said, "is that at least they're doing something we anticipated, sir."

"Under the circumstances, it's hardly comforting," Crassus said. "With that much manpower, they should have had plenty of hands to spare to build up the ruins and make us fight for them."

"Maybe they didn't think they needed to," Maximus said. "They've got us outnumbered already. If we want to take them out, we'll have to go to them, and having a defensible position to fall back on isn't going to mean much when it's miles away."

Marcus grunted in a neutral tone. Crassus was a young commander, but his naturally studious, pensive personality tended to negate the usual recklessness of a leader his age. If anything, perhaps too much so. Waging a military campaign truly was one of the more complicated endeavors anyone could embark upon, and the demands of organization, logistics, communications, and internal politics could often create unusual, or even outwardly ridiculous-seeming, scenarios.

Marcus was well aware of Nasaug's skills, which had been sufficient to enable him to survive in hostile territory, cut off from any help and vastly outnumbered on the absolute scale. Only extremely competent leadership could account for such a thing-but even the most brilliant general had finite resources. It was entirely possible that Nasaug had reached the limits of his.

It was also, he admitted, entirely possible that the reason the ruins had been ceded without a fight was nowhere near so innocuous.

"Plan for what he can do," Marcus said. "Not what you think he's going to do."

Crassus glanced at Marcus and nodded sharply. "Giving us a nice position here lets them know two things for certain-where to find us and from where we'll approach Mastings." He scratched at the tip of his nose, frowning. "We estimate that he'll have forty thousand troops available to defend Mastings, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine," Crassus said. "Let's suppose he's got thirty thousand waiting for us behind the walls. He could easily have ten waiting in the field, hoping to pin us between Mastings's defenses and their field force."

Max nodded. "Which would get ugly, fast."

"But that isn't a large enough force to take us on its own," Marcus said. "Especially not from fortifications."

"Which gives them even more reason not to let us take these without a fight."

Max stared at Crassus for a moment, then accused, "You think too much."

The young commander shrugged. "I don't see Nasaug sitting quietly behind his walls and waiting for us, either," Crassus said. "It could be that he's planning on hitting us here before the engineers can build the ruins up. So I want to picket the cavalry in a screen around us at five or six miles. If anyone sees anything moving out there, I want to know about it."

Max nodded and banged a fist on his chest, then went to his horse.

Before he could leave, more horses approached, and shortly the Senator, the captains of both Guard Legions, and their immediate attendants arrived.

But not, Marcus noted, the Senator's hired singulares singulares. There was no sign of Phrygiar Navaris or her contemporaries. Several burly legionares legionares from the Guard were staying close to Arnos-but not his gang of hired killers. from the Guard were staying close to Arnos-but not his gang of hired killers.

Marcus glanced at Crassus, who seemed to have noted the same absence. The young commander frowned and tapped the tip of his thumb restlessly against the hilt of his sword.

"Captain Crassus," Arnos said. "Captain Crassus," Arnos said. "Senator," Crassus replied, his tone polite as he saluted. "Welcome. I hadn't expected to see you today." "Senator," Crassus replied, his tone polite as he saluted. "Welcome. I hadn't expected to see you today." "No sense wasting time," Arnos replied. "No sense wasting time," Arnos replied. That hadn't stopped him from doing it before, Marcus noted, but he said nothing. That hadn't stopped him from doing it before, Marcus noted, but he said nothing.

"No, sir," Crassus agreed. He went on to give Arnos the brief facts of what they had learned about Mastings. "I was just about to set pickets, sir, if you would like to-"

"Good," Arnos said, nodding. "Keep them close in. No more than a mile or two out. Otherwise, we'll lose them to raiding forces and enemy scouts."

Crassus didn't respond for a second. Then he said, "Sir, if I might respectfully suggest it, I think we'd be better served to push them farther out. It's a greater risk, but if an enemy force comes at us, they'll have more time to warn us before they arrive."

"Thank you for your suggestion, Captain," Arnos said in a level tone. "But the enemy hasn't seen fit to come at us openly ever since our last encounter with them. That's why they gave us the ruins today: They know they'll be beaten in the open field and wanted to preserve morale for the defense of Mastings. If there is a force moving around out there, I doubt it's very large. The Canim are protecting their ships. They won't spare a significant number of troops for side adventures."

"That sounds logical, sir," Crassus replied, nodding. "But it won't hurt us to have our screen out a little farther."

"It's a long walk to Kalare, young Antillus," Arnos said, his eyes hard, but with something jovial in his tone. "We'll need our riders when we face the real threat in the south. Let's not waste them here, hmmm?"

Crassus's expression became totally neutral. He gave the Senator a sharp nod and another salute. "Yes, sir." Then he turned to Maximus, and said, "Pickets to be set at two miles. Don't make me say it twice."

Maximus saluted once and departed.

Marcus stood nearby while Arnos went over the order of battle with his captains, and while Crassus demonstrated the fruits of a lifetime of preparation to succeed his father's title. Though he could have made several suggestions, the young man kept his mouth shut until Nalus inevitably brought up some of the same points. Crassus would immediately caution Arnos against the sensible course of action, and Arnos would just as immediately overrule him. By the end of an hour-long conference, they had a plan for assaulting the city that at least stood a crow's chance of success.

When they were leaving, Marcus strode over to Nalus's horse. "Sir, that girth is looking a bit loose." He nudged Nalus on the leg and the captain drew it back so that Marcus could reach the fittings of the broad leather band.

"Don't say it," muttered Nalus under his breath. "I know. This was too easy. Something's wrong."

Marcus nodded, finished adjusting the saddle's girth, and slapped the horse on the rump as he walked away.

Crassus fell into step beside him, and they walked toward the southern edge of the ruins, where the engineers were already at work, preparing to fortify the old town wall.

"Two miles isn't far enough," Crassus growled. "Two miles isn't far enough," Crassus growled. "No, sir," Marcus replied. "Guess it's a good thing you told Maximus to go to four miles." "No, sir," Marcus replied. "Guess it's a good thing you told Maximus to go to four miles." "I didn't tell him that," Crassus said, smiling faintly. "You were there." "I didn't tell him that," Crassus said, smiling faintly. "You were there." Marcus snorted. "Yes, sir." Marcus snorted. "Yes, sir."

Marcus accompanied Crassus as he inspected the fortifications and conferred with the Tribune of the engineering cohort. After that came a briefing of the First Aleran's Tribunes, outlining the battle plan for the following day.

Crassus dismissed the officers from the command tent, and said, "Marcus, stay a moment."

The First Spear waited.

"Did you notice the Senator's singulares? singulares?

Marcus frowned. "Yes, sir. Or rather no, I didn't." Marcus frowned. "Yes, sir. Or rather no, I didn't." "I'm trying to think of the last time I saw them. I think it was when we were still near Othos." "I'm trying to think of the last time I saw them. I think it was when we were still near Othos." Marcus nodded. "That was what I figured, too." Marcus nodded. "That was what I figured, too."

"It isn't hard to work out what someone would send Phrygiar Navaris to do," Crassus said quietly. "If anything's happened to the captain, I'm not going to let it pass. And I'll want your help t-"

Outside, trumpets began blaring the call to arms. Men began shouting, and boots pounded the ground. Crassus and Marcus traded a look, then left the tent, to find the First Aleran in the midst of the structured chaos of a surprise call to arms.