"Which is punishable by death," Tavi said. "I vaguely recall reading as much, somewhere." "Which is punishable by death," Tavi said. "I vaguely recall reading as much, somewhere." "Give us the papers," she said. "Or you are under arrest." "Give us the papers," she said. "Or you are under arrest." Isana's heart pounded hard in her chest. Isana's heart pounded hard in her chest.

"I don't think so," Tavi said. "You see, Navaris, I'm afraid you don't have a leg to stand on, legally speaking. You're a singulare singulare. You aren't an officer. You sure as the crows aren't my my commanding officer. In fact, you aren't in my chain of command at all." commanding officer. In fact, you aren't in my chain of command at all."

Navaris's voice came out as if through clenched teeth. "These are the Senator's orders."

"Oh," Tavi said, nodding as though at a sudden revelation. "Then they're in writing. Let me see them, and the papers are all yours." He lifted both eyebrows. "You do do have legal orders, do you not?" have legal orders, do you not?"

After a brief pause, Navaris said, "You saw him. He resisted arrest."

There were several harsh, masculine mutters.

"Get your fingers off that sword, singulare singulare," Tavi said, his voice an abrupt whip crack of authority. "Draw that weapon against me, and I'll gut you with it."

There was the sound of several blades slithering from their sheaths, and Isana leapt to her feet in sudden terror.

A new voice broke into the conversation. "If I were you," Araris said in a level tone, "I would do as he says."

"Or not," said a bluff, cheerful voice that was laced with a desire for violence-Antillar Maximus. "If you all want to dance, I'm game."

"None of them got to draw steel before we did," said a third voice, that of a young man Isana didn't recognize. "If things start up now, they won't even get their weapons clear of their sheaths. That doesn't seem fair."

"Right you are, Crassus," Max said. "Right you are."

Isana felt a surge of murderous fury from the room-Navaris, she felt certain. It was a white-hot anger, something that seethed with malice and hate so intense that it almost seemed a separate entity. It was an irrational, bloodthirsty thing, a kind of madness that Isana had only encountered twice in her entire life.

For a moment, Isana felt sure that Navaris would attack in any case. But then that raging fire suddenly died into stillness, snuffed out as quickly as a candle dropped into a pond.

"You think you've accomplished something here," Navaris said quietly. "You haven't. You'll see that in time."

Tavi looked at her as if she hadn't spoken at all. "Please convey my apologies to the Senator that I could not act without confirming his orders. Regulations can be inconvenient at times, but they are, after all, what holds a Legion together. Thank you for your visit."

"Fool," Navaris said.

"Captain Fool," Tavi responded. "Good day, Fool," Tavi responded. "Good day, singulare singulare. Araris, Crassus, please escort the good singulare singulare and her helpers to the door." and her helpers to the door."

For a second, nothing happened. Then there was a shuffling of feet, and then the shutting of a door, then silence.

Isana leaned against a wall and closed her eyes, her heart racing, slightly dizzy at the sudden relief, both of her own fears and of the intense emotions that had crowded the little office.

"Crows," Maximus breathed. "Was that who I think it was?" "Crows," Maximus breathed. "Was that who I think it was?" "Phrygiar Navaris," Tavi said, nodding. "Phrygiar Navaris," Tavi said, nodding. "What was she doing here?" Max asked. "What was she doing here?" Max asked. "Getting humiliated, mostly. Especially there at the end." "Getting humiliated, mostly. Especially there at the end." Max barked out a short, coughing laugh. "You don't do things by halves, do you Calderon?" Max barked out a short, coughing laugh. "You don't do things by halves, do you Calderon?"

"It saves me the time of going back to finish later." Tavi rose from the chair and came to the door. "And speaking of Calderon."

Isana opened it, aware that her hands were trembling in reaction to the tension of the past several moments. The room was now empty, but for Tavi and Maximus.

Max lifted his eyebrows at Isana, and his surprise was palpable. "Oh. Good morning, Steadholder."

"Good morning, Maximus," she replied. At least her voice was steady, she thought. She looked at Tavi. "That woman is dangerous?"

Tavi nodded. "One of the top ten or twelve swords in Alera."

"More like one of the top six or seven," Maximus said, his tone serious. "And she's done more actual killing than any two blades on the list."

Isana shook her head. "What were you thinking, insulting her like that?"

"I was thinking that I needed to buy time for Max and his brother to get here," Tavi said. He gave her a boyish grin. "Relax, Auntie. I had it under control."

Max snorted. Max snorted. "Is she acting on the Senator's behalf?" Isana asked. "Is she acting on the Senator's behalf?" Isana asked. "Probably," Tavi said. "Probably," Tavi said. "Then why didn't you give her the papers?" "Then why didn't you give her the papers?"

Tavi sighed and began gathering up the fallen pages. "The papers are going to tell Arnos something he doesn't want to hear. I think he was planning on making them vanish." He straightened them and turned to Maximus. "Get these to Ehren. I want copies for Sir Cyril, the Senator, and the Tribunes Strategica of all three Legions, as well as to the militia command in town."

Max grunted. "The staff meeting?" Max grunted. "The staff meeting?" "Yes. Once the information is out, Arnos won't be able to lock it up again." "Yes. Once the information is out, Arnos won't be able to lock it up again." Isana blinked at him. "What could be so important about them?" Isana blinked at him. "What could be so important about them?"

Tavi raked his fingers through his short-cut hair. "From what we've been able to put together, I think I have a good idea of what the Canim are doing. I think if we handle it right, we might be able to call a halt to this war."

"How?" "How?" "Tavi," Maximus said in a tight, warning voice. "Tavi," Maximus said in a tight, warning voice. Tavi blinked at him. "What?" Tavi blinked at him. "What?"

Maximus stared at him, then shook his head and gave Isana an apologetic glance. "This is pretty important information. I know she's family... but she's also a client of Lady Aquitaine's. It's probably better not to discuss it in front of her." He glanced at Isana again, and said, "It's mostly the principle of the thing, ma'am."

"Crows," Tavi snorted. "Max, she's my family. If you can't trust your family, who can can you trust?" you trust?"

A lance of pure guilt hit Isana in her midsection. The comment was so typically Tavi. He'd grown up close to her, to Bernard, and in the rough frontier country they lived in, toil and hazard built up trust in one another to a much greater degree than in the more settled regions of Alera. As far as Tavi was concerned, in the Calderon Valley, family always supported, always defended, always helped... and always told the truth. He believed it.

Oh, it was going to hurt when Isana shattered that belief. It was going to hurt both of them unbearably.

"That's all right," she said quickly. "It was an inappropriate question in any case. Of course, it's better to be careful."

Tavi gave her a searching look, but shrugged and nodded. "Get a move on, Max. We don't have much time." Tavi gave her a searching look, but shrugged and nodded. "Get a move on, Max. We don't have much time." Maximus banged his fist against his chest, nodded to Isana with another apologetic glance, and hurried out. Maximus banged his fist against his chest, nodded to Isana with another apologetic glance, and hurried out. Tavi rose, frowning in thought. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Auntie, but..." Tavi rose, frowning in thought. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Auntie, but..." "I understand," she said quietly. "I have duties I should be attending to as well." "I understand," she said quietly. "I have duties I should be attending to as well." Tavi smiled at her gratefully. "Dinner tonight?" Tavi smiled at her gratefully. "Dinner tonight?" "That would be lovely." "That would be lovely."

Tavi suddenly blinked. "Oh," he said. "I can make a couple of minutes right now, if you like. What was it you wanted to talk about?"

She couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to hurt him like that. If you can't trust your family, who If you can't trust your family, who can can you trust you trust? "Nothing important," she lied quietly. "It can wait."

Chapter 6

"All right, Captain," Sir Cyril said. He grimaced a little and shifted slightly on his seat, finding a more comfortable angle at which to rest the metal leg that had replaced his own from the knee down. "If you're ready, why don't you lay out what you've learned."

Tavi nodded and stepped up onto the raised platform at the head of the conference room. Though the visiting dignitaries had departed, the room was still crowded, this time with the officers of both Legions of the Senatorial Guard and the First Aleran. Except for Max, Crassus, and one or two of the other Tribunes in the First Aleran, Tavi was by far the youngest man in the room.

"Thank you, Sir Cyril," Tavi said. "The First Aleran has been engaged in active operations against the Canim forces to the south for almost two years, ever since the Night of the Red Stars. We repulsed their initial and secondary efforts to take the bridge. Once additional pressure was brought against their eastern flank by the forces of High Lord Placidus, they were forced to divert much of their infantry to the east, and we drove their garrison out of their position at Founderport. The Founderport militia holds the city, and we stand ready to reinforce it should they need it. It's our only stronghold south of the Tiber, but the Canim don't dare assault it for fear of being pinned between the First Aleran and the city walls."

"We're aware of this, Captain," came Arnos's voice. The Senator, resplendent in formal Senatorial robes of blue-and-red silk, sat in the first row. The two Senatorial Guard captains sat at his left hand, and Navaris and one of her fellow singulares singulares sat at his right. "You needn't continue reminding us of your accomplishments. Everyone here acknowledges that you've had some success in your efforts here." sat at his right. "You needn't continue reminding us of your accomplishments. Everyone here acknowledges that you've had some success in your efforts here."

Tavi felt like grinding his teeth together but kept himself from actually doing it. Crows take him if he'd let this silk-robed dandy rattle him so easily. Besides, his instincts warned him that it would be a mistake to let Navaris see his self-control slide.

Navaris. The woman was a legend among the Cursors, the single most successful and highly paid cutter in Alera. She'd killed seventy-three opponents in legal duels, another sixty or seventy in fights that were allegedly cases of self-defense, and rumor had it that another hundred mysterious murders could be laid at her feet with reasonable accuracy-and if she was anywhere near as good at covering up her crimes as she was at dodging the legal consequences of her swordplay, Tavi figured that she might have killed who knew how many more, successfully disposing of the corpses afterward.

Navaris didn't look as dangerous as she was. She was an inch or two under six feet tall and made of whipcord and rawhide. She had colorless grey eyes and wore her salt-and-pepper hair in a short Legion cut that did nearly as much to massacre any sense of femininity about her as her lean, hard build. She wore black riding leathers and a long, dueling sword at her hip. Her eyes were flat, and they looked at the world as if everyone in it was simply one more practice target set up in a swordmaster's training hall. If she'd drawn on Tavi in the office, he doubted he could have lasted more than a second or two against her.

She was also, if Tavi judged rightly, quite insane.

He dragged his eyes from Navaris back to the Senator. "Pardon me, Senator. I was only laying out a common point to start from."

Arnos gave him a sour look and waved an impatient hand. "Get on with it."

Sir Cyril, seated at the very end of the first row, lifted his chin, and said, "Begin with Vaucusgard."

Tavi nodded. He turned to the slateboard behind him, and in a few quick strokes drew out a rough map of the region, marking the Elinarch, the Tiber, and Founderport. "Vaucusgard is a timber-cutting steadholt that's grown into a small town," he told the room. He marked its position, about thirty miles south of the Elinarch. "When we were pushing the Canim from their positions in Founderport, they fought like mad to hold Vaucusgard."

One of the captains beside Arnos, a man named Nalus, grunted. "Walls?"

"No," Tavi said. "No serious fortifications at all in fact. Not much in the way of defensible geography, either. But we brought them to battle there for two days before they finally ran."

"Why'd it take them that long to break?" Nalus asked.

"They didn't break," Tavi said. "They retreated in good order, and after two days of fighting, we weren't in any shape to argue with them about it.

"Since then, most of our clashes have been more like heavy skirmishes than a pitched battle, while the Canim consolidated their positions. During that time, several of the Crown's Cursors who had been sent to assist the First Aleran infiltrated the occupied territory and began gathering intelligence."

"What did they learn?" Arnos asked.

"First, sir, that the Canim aren't letting everyone leave peaceably as we first thought. They've been holding back members of two professions, refusing to let them leave: carpenters and shipwrights."

Arnos frowned heavily. "Then... their defense of the timber-cutting stead-holt had a definite purpose."

Tavi nodded. "They were taking materials. Wood that had been seasoning in storage, mostly."

"Seasoned wood?" Tribune Tactica Kellus was standing against a side wall, not far from Tavi. "Why seasoned wood, sir?"

"Because, Tribune," Arnos said in a tight voice, "you can't build ships out of green wood."

Tavi nodded, a little impressed despite himself. Arnos's mind worked swiftly-when he chose to use it. "Exactly, sir." He turned and marked a point on the rough map, at the very bottom of the slateboard, a distance of perhaps a hundred miles. "And we think they're building them here, at a town called Mastings. It has a long inlet from the sea, and already had the facilities in place to support the building of a dozen ships at a time. We think that its capacity has been expanded."

"You think?" think?" Arnos said. Arnos said.

"It's conjecture, sir, but it stands up pretty well. The Canim have set up defensive positions at the mouth of the inlet, and they're turning away or appropriating any ships that try to sail to Mastings. Their patrols in the area are three times as thick as they are elsewhere, and the main body of their troops is located somewhere in the area. It's difficult to be sure, because they are refusing to let any Alerans into the city, unless they're one of the shipwrights or carpenters being pressed into service."

"Then how do you know their main body of troops is there?" Arnos demanded.

"The agents in question tracked food shipments, sir," Tavi said. "Either Mastings is playing host to an extremely large number of Canim, or its people have decided to abandon life as a seaport and take up the cattle trade."

"Ships," grunted Captain Nalus again. "What do they want with bloody ships?"

Tavi answered. "The Cane who led the initial incursion, Sarl, ordered their ships burned behind them when they landed. You could see the fires lighting up Founderport from five miles away."

Arnos scratched at his chin, studying the rough map. "Ships will give them a number of options they don't have now," he said. "They'll be able to move swiftly up and down the coastline-the dogs can sail, I'll give them that. If they build enough of them, they'll be able to move their entire force to support Kalare in the south, or to keep us running in circles up here."

"Or, sir," Tavi said. "They might... go home."

Arnos turned a look of pure disbelief upon Tavi.

"It's possible, sir. The majority of the Canim now in Alera did not not want to be stuck here. That's why Sarl had to burn the ships. And they have their dependents to think about, too. They want what any of us would want in a similar situation." He shrugged. "They want to go home." want to be stuck here. That's why Sarl had to burn the ships. And they have their dependents to think about, too. They want what any of us would want in a similar situation." He shrugged. "They want to go home."

Arnos simply stared at Tavi, saying nothing.

Tavi ground his teeth. The good Senator was offering him plenty of rope to hang himself with, and he knew it-but he also knew that he had to at least try. So he took a deep breath, and pressed on. "Given how static the conflict has been over the past several months, we might have an opportunity here."

The room was very quiet, until Arnos asked, in a polite voice, "What opportunity?" The room was very quiet, until Arnos asked, in a polite voice, "What opportunity?" No use stopping now. "To negotiate," Tavi said. No use stopping now. "To negotiate," Tavi said. "Negotiate," Arnos said. "With the Canim." "Negotiate," Arnos said. "With the Canim."

"Senator, we want the Canim gone. The possibility exists that they want to be be gone. I think it's worth exploring." gone. I think it's worth exploring."

"Negotiate," the Senator repeated. "With the Canim."

"They do do have an ambassador, sir," Tavi pointed out. "Alera has parleyed with them before." have an ambassador, sir," Tavi pointed out. "Alera has parleyed with them before."

"An ambassador who infiltrated a band of Canim warriors and trained beasts into the capital itself and attempted to murder murder the First Lord, yes," Arnos agreed. "An ambassador who is currently imprisoned and awaiting execution." the First Lord, yes," Arnos agreed. "An ambassador who is currently imprisoned and awaiting execution."

"Trial," Sir Cyril said in a very mild voice. "Awaiting trial. His guilt has not been proven."

Arnos gave Cyril a scornful glance. "His troops. His people. Even if he didn't plan it, he should should have known about it and stopped it. Either way, the fault lies with him." have known about it and stopped it. Either way, the fault lies with him."

"Nonetheless, it may be an option worth looking at."

"I see," Arnos said quietly. "After the Canim have invaded, killed thousands of Alerans, displaced hundreds of thousands, burned cities, and conspired with a rebel in a plot to help him ascend to the throne we should... what? Give them room and board while we build ships for them? Fill their ships with provisions and gifts? Then send them home, with our blessings?"

"Sir-" Tavi began.

"I can see the advantages," Arnos continued. "They would return home and tell their entire race that Alera was so cowardly and weak that not only could we not defend our own lands against them, we were frightened enough to pay them tribute to get them to leave us."

"That isn't what-"

"And in a year, or two years, or five, they'll come again, and in far greater numbers. They will demand another round of tribute." Arnos shook his head. "No. We stop them here. Now. We scour them from the face of Alera. Every last one of them. We show the Canim that there is a price to be paid for such things as they have done."

Several low growls of approval vibrated through the room. None of them, so far as Tavi could tell, from anyone in the First Aleran.

"We might be able to beat them," Cyril put in. "But it's going to cost us a lot of men. Men well need in the south, when we move against Kalare."

"Men are going to die, regardless of what we do," Arnos shot back.