Tavi released her wrist, and the Marat girl lifted her blade in a quick salute, then sheathed it one-handed in a single motion, never bothering to look down at the scabbard.

"That was cheating," Tavi said. "I was trying to concentrate." "That was cheating," Tavi said. "I was trying to concentrate." Kitai thrust out her lower lip in a pouting expression. "Poor Aleran, needing all his rules to keep him safe." Kitai thrust out her lower lip in a pouting expression. "Poor Aleran, needing all his rules to keep him safe." Tavi swiped a hand at her. Kitai laughed and ducked it. Tavi swiped a hand at her. Kitai laughed and ducked it. "Crows, Kitai. You know how hard I've been working. Until I can bid a fury to manifest-" "Crows, Kitai. You know how hard I've been working. Until I can bid a fury to manifest-"

She threw her hands up in the air. "Two years ago, he has no furies at all, and he is content. Today he has more than he ever hoped to have, and it is not enough."

Tavi growled and shoved his own sword away, also without looking. He couldn't have explained how he did it. He could feel when the tip of his blade was aligned with the metal fittings at the end of the scabbard, a sensation that was comparable to feeling his fingers all in the proper position to tug on a glove.

"I'm not going to get opportunities to practice once we march. You know that. This was my last chance to try it for a while."

"And you tried it," Kitai said. She put a hand on her hip and faced him, her green eyes hard. "It didn't work, and you started to lose your temper, at which point it wasn't going going to work." Her expression softened slightly. "You were only torturing yourself, to work." Her expression softened slightly. "You were only torturing yourself, chala" chala"

She was right, Tavi thought, which was annoying, but he could feel her genuine concern for him, sense it almost as if it were an emotion of his own. His watercrafter's perceptions were still inconsistent and often quite vague, but where Kitai was involved, they were clear and unmistakable. Or perhaps the bond they shared was more responsible for the empathy that had grown between them. He wasn't sure.

Kitai studied him, bright green eyes on his, and shook her head. "You think too much, Aleran. Always planning. Always questioning. Always calculating. It's a wonder your head doesn't catch fire from the inside." She glanced up at the sun, then down at the cuts on his chest. "Come. Let me clean that up. He'll be here in a moment."

Tavi blinked and looked down at himself. He had almost forgotten the injuries. He had shut away the pain almost before it had registered on him, and had been holding it away without really thinking about it. Once he did, of course, the crafting faltered, and the cuts burned and stung unpleasantly.

Kitai brought a cloth and a flask of water and cleaned the cuts and scrapes. Tavi managed to hold still through it all, though it was hardly pleasant. He had to close his eyes and exhale slowly as Kitai cleansed one cut. The Marat girl winced a little and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss nearby the hurt. Then she bound over the two wounds that still oozed a little blood, her motions practiced. They should be, Tavi thought. Great furies knew that they'd had enough practice on one another over the past two years.

Tavi had just pulled his shirt back on when Enna's horse came walking slowly through the entrance to the dale. The horse trooper had one hand clamped resolutely over her eyes. "Captain?" she called. "Kitai told me not to look at you when you were unclothed. How am I supposed to know know whether or not you are unclothed without whether or not you are unclothed without looking?" looking?"

Tavi gave Kitai a level look. "Oh for pity's sake."

She laughed at him. She did that quite often, Tavi thought. The smile that went with the laugh was devastating, and he found himself smiling with her, despite another day's effort, another day's failure.

"It's all right, Enna," Tavi called. "You can look."

"Thank goodness," Enna said, dropping her hand, and beaming at Tavi. Then she gave him a disappointed little frown and sighed. "I miss all the best parts."

"Centurion," Tavi prompted.

She gave him a quick salute. "The man who none of us saw and who none of us are going to remember is here to see you, sir."

"He knows me," said a young man's voice, and Ehren walked around from behind Enna's horse, touching the animal's flanks gently with one hand as he brushed past. He was small, quite a bit under five and a half feet tall, but the reed-thin young man Tavi had met when he first came to the Academy had hardened. Ehren, sandy-haired and unassuming, was still slender-but slender like hunting cats, or dueling swords, rather than like writing quills. He was dressed in rough garb of castaway clothing, most of it ill fitting, and looked like any of ten thousand refugees in the camps.

At a nod from Kitai, Enna withdrew. Tavi went to the young man and traded grips with him, then considered his clothing with a frown. "Ehren. I never said I was sending you out again."

"Please," Ehren said. "I'm a professional spy, Tavi. I wouldn't be doing you any good standing around here." He turned to Kitai with a smile and bowed gallantly over her hand. "Not that it isn't nice sleeping with both eyes closed, but I'm starting to get soft."

"You've only been back for three days," Kitai said.

"That's just about enough," Ehren said. He lowered his voice conspiratorially and jerked his head covertly at Tavi. "I can't stand working where my superiors can look over my shoulder anyway."

Tavi smiled, but he didn't really feel it. Ehren had worked his way into position in Canim-occupied territory over an entire perilous year. Some of the Canim commanders had spent a great deal of energy hunting for spies and rooting them out. Many such informants had been caught, and had not been seen again. Ehren had, Tavi gathered, very nearly been caught as he left occupied territory-and there was a fresh scar on his brow that he had not explained.

"Is there any word from the First Lord?" Tavi asked quietly.

Ehren shook his head. "You haven't given me enough time to try all the channels."

"I don't have have the time," Tavi said. "We march tomorrow." the time," Tavi said. "We march tomorrow."

"I know," Ehren said. "But word is that Gaius is with the Legions in the south somewhere. As far as anyone I could reach knows, all of his messages are being routed to someone on the staff-even Cursor traffic. So, either he's come down with a bad case of bureaucratic thinking..."

"Or he's up to something," Tavi said. "Crows. Why now?" now?"

"Even if he wasn't," Ehren said, "from what you told me, he's given you your marching orders. Maybe you shouldn't be trying to go over Arnos's head like this."

"That was before we knew about Mastings," Tavi said. "Or Arnos's so-called battle plan. Or what he had in mind for the noncombatants. We have to find another option, Ehren.''

Ehren lifted both hands. "Which is why I'm dressed for the road," he said. "You want me to see how close I can get to Mastings?"

Tavi drew in a deep breath. "Sort of." Tavi drew in a deep breath. "Sort of." Ehren frowned and tilted his head. Ehren frowned and tilted his head. "I want you to get to Nasaug," Tavi said. "I want you to get to Nasaug," Tavi said.

Ehren burst out in a laugh. It died young, as he watched Tavi's expression. "Oh," he said. "You were serious."

"Yes."

Ehren shook his head. "Your confidence is flattering, but even if I could could get close to him, which I don't think I could, I'm not at all sure I could take him. I get close to him, which I don't think I could, I'm not at all sure I could take him. I saw saw him fight at the Elinarch." him fight at the Elinarch."

"No, no, crows," Tavi said. "If I wanted him assassinated, I'd do it myself." He paused to consider. "Or possibly send Max and Crassus."

"For you," Ehren said, "that was an uncommonly sensible afterthought."

Tavi grinned at him for a second. "This isn't that kind of mission," Tavi said. He flicked open the leather case on his sword belt and drew out a folded envelope. He offered it to Ehren.

The young man stared at the envelope for a moment and exhaled slowly. "Oh. The other part of the Cursor business." He searched Tavi's face for a moment, and said, quietly, "We're messengers for the First Lord, Tavi. This isn't one of his messages."

"If he didn't want us using our initiative, he shouldn't be so hard to contact," Tavi replied. "If he didn't want us using our initiative, he shouldn't be so hard to contact," Tavi replied. Ehren chuckled. "Can't argue there. What is it?" Ehren chuckled. "Can't argue there. What is it?" "A request for a meeting," Tavi said. "Between me and Nasaug." "A request for a meeting," Tavi said. "Between me and Nasaug." Ehren exhaled. "That's all?" Ehren exhaled. "That's all?" "Yes." "Yes." "We, uh. We don't really know how they're going to react to an official courier. No one's sent any." "We, uh. We don't really know how they're going to react to an official courier. No one's sent any." "Don't worry about it," Tavi said. "You wouldn't be official." "Don't worry about it," Tavi said. "You wouldn't be official." "Oh," Ehren said. "Crows." "Oh," Ehren said. "Crows." "You don't have to," Tavi said quietly. "I can find something else for you to-" "You don't have to," Tavi said quietly. "I can find something else for you to-"

"Oh shut up," Ehren said, his voice annoyed, as he took the envelope from Tavi's hand. "You think Nasaug will be willing to talk?"

"If he is," Tavi said, "I think we can expect him to behave in a civilized fashion."

"They haven't exactly been a monolithic culture," Ehren replied. "What if some of the other Canim don't hold with Nasaug's way of thinking?"

"I'd advise you to avoid them," Tavi said.

"You don't ask much, do you?" Ehren flashed Tavi an easy grin and slipped the envelope out of sight beneath his overlarge tunic. "Time limit?"

"Sooner is better, but take what you need to make the approach." Tavi paused, then offered his hand again. Ehren took it, and Tavi said softly, "Be careful, Ehren."

"Can't have you moaning over how guilty you feel for sending me off to my death," Ehren said, and winked at Kitai. "The Ambassador would never forgive me."

"No," Kitai said. She stepped forward and kissed Ehren on the cheek. "I wouldn't. Walk softly."

"I suspect I'll have less to worry about than you. Take care of each other." He nodded to them, turned, and vanished into the trees without ceremony.

Tavi watched him go and bit his lip.

"He knows what he is doing, chala chala," Kitai said.

"I know." "I know." "He knows the risks." "He knows the risks." "I know." "I know." "If this works," she said, "what will you say to Nasaug? What do you hope to accomplish?" "If this works," she said, "what will you say to Nasaug? What do you hope to accomplish?" "I don't know," Tavi said quietly. "Yet. But I have to do something." "I don't know," Tavi said quietly. "Yet. But I have to do something." She stood beside him for a moment, then said, "We should get back." She stood beside him for a moment, then said, "We should get back." Tavi took a deep breath and blew it out again. "Right," he said. "Lots to do. And we march at dawn." Tavi took a deep breath and blew it out again. "Right," he said. "Lots to do. And we march at dawn."

Chapter 10

Just as Tavi rose to leave his office for the field, Araris shut the door, and said in a very quiet voice, "I have to talk to you."

There were a hundred details still to take care of, and they formed a precise, clear list in the young commander's mind. Tavi buckled on his sword belt as he mentally ordered the list, and reached for his cloak. "Fine. We can talk on the road."

"No," the singulare singulare said quietly. said quietly.

Tavi threw the cloak around his shoulders. "The Senator isn't going to appreciate it if we hold him up. Let's move."

Araris looked steadily at Tavi for a second. Then he locked the door, folded his arms, and leaned back against it. "The Senator," he said, "can wait."

Tavi drew up short and stared at the older man until he had managed to shake the list out of the forefront of his thoughts. He studied Araris for a minute, taking in his wary posture, his obvious tension. Tavi concentrated for a moment and was able to feel a vague sense of unease tinting an iron shell of resolve.

"Oh," Tavi said quietly. "This talk."

Araris nodded. "It's time."

Boots thudded dully on the floors overhead, probably the Subtribunes Logistica moving the Legion's treasury chest along with two full spears of guards.

"Why now?"

Araris nodded up at the world above. "Because you're leaving on campaign. There's always the possibility that you might not come back from it. And because you're a grown man, Tavi. Because rumors are spreading, and you've got to be ready. You need to know. You deserve to know."

Tavi felt a flash of old, hot frustration flare through him, but he pushed it back. "I'm listening."

Araris nodded. "There's a lot. Tell me what you've already worked out."

Tavi took a deep breath. "I know," he said, "that you were a singulare singulare to the Princeps Gaius Septimus. I know that he died at the First Battle of Calderon twenty-two years ago. His to the Princeps Gaius Septimus. I know that he died at the First Battle of Calderon twenty-two years ago. His singulares singulares were thought to have died with him. They were buried with him at the Princeps Memorium back in Calderon. were thought to have died with him. They were buried with him at the Princeps Memorium back in Calderon.

"I know," Tavi continued, "that you pledged your loyalty to me. That Gaius didn't seem to care for that, but that he kept you close to me for years."

Araris nodded. "All true."

"I know that Aunt Isana doesn't talk about my mother much. Neither does Uncle Bernard." Tavi glanced down. "The only thing they've ever said about my father is that he was a soldier." He tried not to let it happen, but his voice turned bitter. "Which means I'm just a legionare's legionare's bastard. There are plenty of those around." bastard. There are plenty of those around."

Araris looked up sharply. "Bastard? No. No, your parents were wed, Tavi."

Tavi felt his heart begin to speed up. He'd spent a lifetime knowing almost nothing about his mother and father. No one had ever been willing to speak of them in anything but the vaguest terms. Tavi barely trusted himself to speak. "You... you knew them?"

Araris's eyes grew distant for a moment. "Oh, yes," he said quietly. "Very well."

"How-" Tavi began, but his throat clenched shut. "Who... What did..."

Araris held up a hand. "First," he said, "I must tell you this. I did not want to be the one to speak. That duty by rights belonged to Isana. But she..." He shook his head. "When someone goes through as much grief and loss as she did, in such a short amount of time, it can leave wounds as surely as any sword. You can recover from some wounds. But sometimes they're lasting. Crippling. And the best you can hope for is to survive them."

"I don't understand," Tavi said. "I don't understand," Tavi said. "Isana... doesn't think very clearly where you are concerned. Not about this. She loves you desperately, Tavi." "Isana... doesn't think very clearly where you are concerned. Not about this. She loves you desperately, Tavi." Tavi chewed on his lip and nodded. "I know." Tavi chewed on his lip and nodded. "I know."

"She's terrified of losing you. It clouds her judgment, I think. Her resolve. I believe that she wanted to tell you the truth long before now. But she'd kept it locked up so tightly, for so long, I'm not sure she knew how to let it out again."

Tavi shook his head. "Wait. Araris-what truth?" Tavi shook his head. "Wait. Araris-what truth?" "The truth about your father," Araris said quietly. "The truth about Gaius Septimus." "The truth about your father," Araris said quietly. "The truth about Gaius Septimus." The bottom fell out of Tavi's stomach upon hearing the words. The bottom fell out of Tavi's stomach upon hearing the words.

He'd known-no, not known known, but speculated, analyzing what he knew and putting it together in a theory, as the Cursors had trained him to do. It had been an idle exercise, or so he thought, though it might be more accurate to say that he had simply found a new way to daydream about what it would have been like actually to have parents in his life. He'd done that often as a child, spending hours picturing them, imagining what they might have looked like, sounded like, what they might have said.

What life would have been like. How much better it might have been.

Of course, the idea of the Princeps as Tavi's unknown father had a single major stumbling block-the utter lack of furycraft that had haunted Tavi until two years before.

But that wasn't an issue anymore.

In fact, as he thought on it, it should have been more obvious to him. Tavi's crafting was still sharply limited by his lack of ability to control a manifest fury, but had he been in the Academy, he would have earned two or three beads in every single branch of crafting by now. While it was not unheard of for a crafter-especially a scion of the Citizenry-to be gifted in several areas of craft, it was exceedingly rare for anyone but the upper tiers of talent to possess skills that ran the entire spectrum of furycraft.

It should have been more obvious, but he supposed it was possible he hadn't wanted wanted it to be true. If Araris was correct, if the Princeps truly was wed to his mother, it meant that he was a legitimate heir of the House of Gaius. It meant... it to be true. If Araris was correct, if the Princeps truly was wed to his mother, it meant that he was a legitimate heir of the House of Gaius. It meant...

Bloody crows. It meant that the First Lord had an heir. Bloody crows. It meant that the First Lord had an heir. And it was him. Tavi. And it was him. Tavi. Bloody crows. It meant that the most dangerous and ruthless people on the face of Carna were going to want him dead. Bloody crows. It meant that the most dangerous and ruthless people on the face of Carna were going to want him dead. Him. Tavi. Him. Tavi.

Other pieces fell into place. He could see why Gaius had brought him to the Academy-to give him a sound education. To expose him to the children of the Citizenry. He'd been trained with the Cursors, learning the arts of intrigue and deception. He'd been assigned to a room with Max-another outcast to Aleran high society, just as Tavi himself was. That a friendship of mutual alliance would grow between them had been all but inevitable, and Tavi abruptly felt certain that Gaius had planned deliberately to secure Tavi at least one ally with the crafting power of a High Lord.

And the First Lord's designs hadn't stopped there. Tavi had been sent out into a Legion to learn the arts of strategy, tactics, logistics, and leadership. Granted, Gaius hadn't expected Tavi to wind up in command command of the bloody thing, but the First Lord-his of the bloody thing, but the First Lord-his grandfather grandfather-couldn't have been terribly displeased with the results.

Gaius.

His grandfather.

He had a grandfather grandfather.

Tavi knew he was breathing too quickly, and it was making him dizzy, but too many thoughts were spinning through his mind to pay any attention. He wasn't sure if he wanted to scream, or hit something, or run, or laugh, or burst out weeping. His mind was an enormous blur of ideas and memories and possible futures, and only one thing was certain.

Everything had changed.

Everything.

"I've... I've..." Tavi swallowed and forced himself to stop stammering. "I've known that there were things Aunt Isana wasn't telling me about my parents, but..."

Araris closed his eyes and sighed. Then he opened them and faced Tavi. "No, Tavi. There's a lot your mother hasn't told you about your father."