Captain's Fury

Chapter 29

"Again!" Araris snapped, driving a series of high, whirling slashes at Tavi's head. The singulare was not restraining the force of his blows, and it took every ounce of Tavi's concentration and skill to survive them. He found the rhythm of the attack, found the tiny half beat of vulnerability between one of Araris's strikes and the next, and countered low, his body dipping to one side and out of the line of the attack, one hand resting flat on the ground to support his suddenly altered balance, his blade darting in a swift thrust for the large artery in the singulare s midsection.

Tavi was an instant too slow. Araris slammed his blade across Tavi's, driving it from his fingers. The singulare swung a booted kick at Tavi's face. Tavi rolled away from it. Araris drove his heel down at Tavi's nose. Tavi swatted the blow mostly aside-and found the point of Araris's sword resting in the hollow of his throat.

Araris stared at Tavi, his eyes expressionless, even frightening. Then he drew himself upright and lifted the sword away. "It has to be faster," he said quietly. "The fight is always in motion. You can't wait for the right beat. You have to anticipate it."

Tavi scowled up at Araris. "We've done this every day for a week. It's only one counter. Someone my size is going to have real trouble using it. We both know that. What happened to fighting to my strengths?"

"This is one," Araris said. "You just don't know it yet."

Tavi shook his head. "What the crows is that supposed to mean?"

Araris rested a hand on his midsection where he'd been wounded, wincing like a man with a stitch in his side after a long run. "Any swordsman worth the name won't expect that move from someone like you. They would think it too dangerous, too foolhardy."

Tavi touched his throat, where Araris's sword had been, and glanced at the small smear of blood on his finger. "Why would anyone think that?" But he got to his feet, recovered his sword, and faced Araris, ready to go again.

Araris rolled his shoulder, his expression pained, and shook his head. "Enough for today."

They lifted their blades in a mutual salute and put them away. "Is your side still hurting'? Maybe I should get the Steadholder to-"

"No," Araris said at once. "No. She has enough to contend with. It's sore, that's all."

Tavi arched his eyebrows, realization dawning in his face. "That's how Navaris got you."

Araris frowned and looked away. "She had too many of Arnos's singulares with her. I couldn't have fought them all and lived. So I gave Navaris an opening. I had counted on her to take a thrust to my leg and pin her sword in the hull for a moment." He waved a hand at his flank. "But she hit me here instead."

Tavi frowned. "I saw her sword go through the hull. But it was still stuck there when…" His voice trailed off as a little surge of nausea went through his stomach. Araris had been pinned to the Mactiss hull with a sword through his guts. The only way he could have freed himself would have been…

Bloody crows. The man had simply sliced himself free on Navaris's weapon. He'd let the blade cut through four or five inches of his own midsection. No wonder it looked like Navaris had slashed him open halfway to his spine.

Araris met Tavi's gaze soberly and nodded. "Without Isana…" He shrugged. "Navaris shouldn't have been able to do that. I don't know how she managed it. But she did. I'm pushing us both."

He turned without another word and went back to the ship's cabin. Tavi put his sword away, tugged on his loose tunic, and made his way thoughtfully to the ship's prow.

After their raid on the doomed Mactis, the rest of the voyage had been comparatively uneventful, and Tavi found himself growing increasingly anxious. Araris was back on his feet after two days of rest, and they returned to relentless practice on the deck for hours at a time. Araris proved to be one of those swordmasters who believed that pain was the best motivator for learning. Tavi acquired any number of small cuts-some of them quite messy and painful- and a collection of dozens of bruises in various colors.

Despite the pain, the practice sessions helped. He wasn't sure exactly how well he was progressing in his swordsmanship, since Araris always seemed to be just a bit faster than Tavi, his technique and positioning a tiny bit more precise than Tavi's own, but Araris assured him that he was getting better. The practices were exhausting, which Tavi thought was their single largest benefit.

It left him with less energy to worry about the future.

After dinner that night, he was standing at the prow of the ship again, watching dolphins sport in the waters ahead of the Slive. Kitai was lying back along a line, somewhere above him and behind him, relaxing as casually as if it had been a hammock, rather than a single rope she held with an ankle and one hand. He could feel her lazy contentment at having a full belly, an interesting day, and a lovely sunset to watch over the rolling waves of the sea.

Tavi closed his eyes and tried to partake of Kitai's contentment. The two of them differed fundamentally in regards to their views on the future. For Kitai, the future was a single enormous matter of relative unimportance. What mattered was the here and now. While preparation for what might happen was useful, it was beneficial more in how it shaped one's character and brightened one's day than for any practical gain it might grant when the future became the present. Kitai, he knew, approved of Tavi's weapons training with Araris, but he suspected it had more to do with the fact that she enjoyed seeing him sweating and shirtless than with her concern for whom he might be fighting in the future.

Tavi's sense of Kitai changed slightly, as her interest was briefly piqued. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Ehren approaching.

"Hey," Tavi said quietly.

"Hey," Ehren said. The little Cursor came up to stand beside Tavi, staring out ahead of the ship. "I talked to Demos. We start up the Gaul tomorrow. After that, it will be another week to get up the river to the capital. Maybe more, if he can't find a decent tugboat."

Tavi nodded. "That's good. I figure we'll be there right around the time of the new moon."

"Always nice for sneaking around springing prisoners," Ehren said. There was tension in the former scribe's shoulders. He folded his arms and leaned one hip against the rail. "I knew she was a skilled healer, but I didn't know the Stead-holder's other watercraft was that strong. It surprised me."

"I think it surprised her, too," Tavi said. "Maybe it shouldn't have. She flooded a river at home just before Second Calderon. That's more than most watercrafters can do."

Ehren nodded. "How is she?"

"Araris hung up a hammock for her in a storage room in the hold. She says it's quieter down there. She was up on deck for a while, earlier. I'd say she's getting a handle on it now."

"That's good," Ehren said. He frowned out at the sea, and his voice trailed away into an awkward silence.

"Just say it," Tavi said quietly.

"Say what?" Ehren asked.

"Whatever it is that's bothering you."

Ehren quirked one corner of his mouth up and nodded, staring out to sea. "When we went over to the Mactis. You said something to the Steadholder."

Tavi grimaced. "I was sort of hoping you wouldn't notice it in all the excitement."

"I debated doing that," Ehren said. "But… these days it seems I have to lie to almost everyone. I don't really like it. And I don't want that to include you."

Tavi smiled a little and nodded. "Thank you."

"Sure," Ehren said. "So. When you told Isana that she was the First Lady of Alera, what you meant was…"

"Exactly what I said," Tavi said.

Ehren frowned. Then he blinked and stared at Tavi. "You mean… she's really Lady Caria? In disguise?"

Tavi blinked. "What? No! Oh, bloody crows, no."

Ehren frowned. "Then I don't get it. The First Lady is the wife of the First Lord."

"Most First Lords would have retired years ago," Tavi said. "Passed their authority on to their heir. Remained as an advisor, maybe."

Ehren frowned. Then he lifted both eyebrows and dropped his voice to a whisper. "The Princeps? Gaius Septimus?"

Tavi nodded silently.

"But he never married!"

"He did," Tavi said. "Legally. And he left her the means to prove it."

Ehren whistled. "If he'd lived…" He shook his head. "Well. Everything would be different, wouldn't it?" Ehren studied Tavi's face for a moment, frowning. "But that's not all."

Tavi took a deep breath. "He had an heir by her, Ehren. A son."

The Cursor arched a skeptical eyebrow. "An heir to the Crown? Tavi…" Then his expression froze in place. "Tavi," he said quietly, his eyes widening.

Tavi forced himself to smile a little. He shrugged his shoulders stiffly. "I'm not terribly comfortable with it, either."

Ehren glanced around covertly. "Urn. How many people know about this?"

"You. Cyril. Araris. My mother."

"And me," Kitai drawled from her perch, without opening her eyes.

Tavi frowned up at her. "I never explained it to you."

She yawned. "Aleran, please. It is not as if you are horribly complex. I have ears and a mind. If I waited for you to speak to me about everything important, it would probably drive me insane."

Tavi snorted and shook his head. He turned back to Ehren.

The young man chewed idly at a fingernail, a habit Tavi remembered well from their days at the Academy together. "Gaius doesn't know?"

"He knows something," Tavi said. "I'm not sure how much."

Ehren sighed. "You realize that it's my duty to inform him."

"That," Tavi said, "is the least of my worries."

The Cursor nodded. "If it's true," he said. "Tavi, I don't mean to insult you, but… an heir of the House of Gaius would be a powerful furycrafter. You… you aren't."

"There are reasons," Tavi said quietly. "I don't want to go into it right now."

The Cursor nodded and looked away. After a minute he asked, his voice carrying a slight edge, "How long have you known?"

"You're my friend, Ehren. I don't want to have to lie to you, either." Tavi turned to him and put a hand on Ehren's shoulder, meeting his eyes. "I found out just before we marched out from the Elinarch. Until then, I had no idea."

Ehren searched his eyes for a moment, a line appearing between his eyebrows. Then he nodded slowly. "All right." He chewed on another fingernail. "So what do we do?"

"We continue with the mission," Tavi said. "We get Varg and use him to broker an armistice with the Canim. Then we march south and help Sir Miles put Kalarus down for good."

"Simultaneously stealing the thunder from both Aquitainus and his puppet Arnos." Ehren shook his head. "You can't expose yourself to this kind of risk."

"What risk? I'm not anything yet," Tavi said. "And even if I was, it has to be me who takes the risk. Who else could?"

Ehren rolled his eyes and waved his hands in a vague gesture of frustration. "How can you possibly say something that is so backward while still making sense?"

Tavi laughed. "The point is," he said, "we've got to focus on what's here and now. Have you gone over the list?"

Ehren nodded. "I can buy everything but the coldstones. Those aren't easy to find at any time, much less in the spring. Everyone's saving them up for summer. Even if I find some for sale, they're going to cost more than we have."

"They aren't optional equipment," Tavi said, frowning. "We've got to have them, period."

"I thought you'd say something like that," Ehren said. He glanced up at the rigging above and behind them. "As it happens, I seem to remember a rather successful burglar who terrorized the shopkeepers of the capital a few years back."

Kitai opened one eye. Her mouth spread into her lazy, feline grin. "Good," she said. "I was beginning to grow bored."