Cursors's Fury

Later, he realized that Bardis wasn’t too young to be a Knight. Tavi was simply five years older. He knew far more of the world than the boy, had seen a great deal more of life’s horrors, and had gained inches and pounds of physical size that he had, for most of his life, lacked. All of that made the wounded Knight seem much smaller and far younger. It was a matter of perspective.

Tavi realized, bemused, that he was no longer the child, unconsciously expecting those stronger and older than he to assist and protect him. Now he was the stronger, the elder, and so it fell to him to accept and discharge his responsibilities rather than to seek ways to avoid or circumvent them.

He did not know when this shift in perspective had happened, and though it might have seemed small in some ways, it was far deeper and more significant than he had at first realized. It meant that he could never again be that child, the one deserving of protection and comfort. It was time for him to provide it for others, as it had been provided for him.

So he cared for poor Bardis and spent much of that march in reflection.

“You’ve been moody,” Max said, breaking the silence as the wagon bumped steadily down the trail-a path worn by use, not furycraft. “This whole march, you’ve been quiet.”

“Thinking,” Tavi said, “and avoiding attention.”

“How’s the fish?”

“Bardis,” Tavi corrected him. “Foss says he’ll be all right, now that we’ve stopped and he can be cared for more properly.” He shook his head. “But he might not ever walk again. And I don’t know if he’ll be able to use his right arm. He’s given his body in service to the Realm, Max. Don’t call him a fish.”

Sullen red fire played within the bone-dry storm clouds overhead, and one of the horses danced nervously. Tavi saw Max nod. “True enough,” he agreed, a quiet gravity in his own voice. After a moment, Max said, “Magnus says Kalarus is making his move. That he came up with at least four extra Legions somewhere. That if they take Ceres, they’ll roll right over Alera Imperia. Which doesn’t make much sense to me. Placidus’s Legions are going to pin them against the city walls and cut them to pieces.”

“Placidus isn’t moving,” Tavi said.

“The crows he isn’t. I know the man. He doesn’t care much about getting involved with the rest of the Realm, but he doesn’t care for treason, either. He’ll fight.”

“He isn’t,” Tavi said. “At least, according to the last-the only-dispatch that got through from the First Lord, though it didn’t say why.”

“That was a week ago,” Max said.

Tavi nodded up at the sky. “Wherever this storm came from, it’s pretty well prevented the use of Knights Aeris as messengers. The First Lord and the High Lords can communicate through the rivers, but they know there’s nothing to stop others from listening to everything they send that way. “

“Or worse,” Max said. “Altering the message en route.”

“They can do that?” Tavi asked.

“It can be done,” Max said. “I can’t manage it yet. It’s too delicate. But my lord father could. So could my stepmother.”

Tavi stored the fact in memory for future reference. “Do you think Ceres will hold?”

Max was quiet for a moment before admitting, “No. Cereus is no soldier, he’s getting long in the tooth, and he doesn’t have a male heir to help with any of the fighting.” His voice took on the note of a scowl. “His daughter Veradis has got talent, but it’s mostly in healing. And she’s a real cold fish.”

Tavi found himself smiling. “She pretty?”

“Very.”

“Turned you down, huh?”

“About a hundred times.” Max’s tone turned somber again. “Kalarus is a powerhouse. Even my lord father thinks so. And that twisty little bastard Brencis had me fooled about how strong he was, too. Cereus can’t beat them. And if the First Lord takes them on, he’ll be turning his back on Aquitainus. He’s pinned down.”

Silence fell. Tavi watched the lightning play through the clouds. “I suppose I should be used to this.”

“What’s that?”

“Feeling very small,” Tavi said.

Max snorted out a laugh. “Small? Crows, Tavi. You’ve foiled coups orchestrated by the two most powerful High Lords in the realm. Twice. I don’t know anyone less small than you.”

“Luck,” Tavi said. “Mostly luck.”

“Some of it,” Max allowed. “But not all. Hell, man, if you had furies of your own…”

Max’s teeth suddenly clicked together as he choked the sentence to a halt, but Tavi still felt the familiar old stabs of frustration and longing.

“Sorry,” Max said a moment later.

“Forget it.”

“Yeah.”

“I just wish we could do something,” Tavi said. “Something. We’re stuck out here in the back end of nowhere while the Realm is fighting for its life.” He waved a hand. “I understand that this Legion isn’t ready to fight yet. That no one is sure it could be trusted, with troops from all sides in the ranks and officers. But I wish we could do something other than sit out here and drill and”-he tilted his head at the back at the wagon-“shop for groceries.”