Princeps’ Fury

The big Cane’s eyes were still dull. His fur was being plastered flat to his skull by the rain, making him seem, to Tavi, somehow smaller, more vulnerable, and more dangerous.

Varg inclined his head slightly to one side.

Tavi returned the gesture.

The Cane turned away, and they rejoined the troop. As the group of taurga took to the trail again, Varg rode slightly apart from everyone else.

* * *

“Shuar,” Anag said, gesturing.

The road had led to the fortifications they had seen from the top of the bluffs. As a military camp, it would have to be enormous. With all the supporting folk needed to keep so many warriors in condition to fight, it had to be almost unimaginably large to hold them all-a city that easily outshone Alera Imperia in sheer scale and in grim splendor, all made of dark, bleak stone, with oddly shaped, too-narrow doors and windows. The Canim did not, it seemed, put much stock in building high towers. No building in sight was more elongated than a cube, though several of them were several stories tall. All told, it must have made for some truly cavernous architecture, with buildings capable of holding many more occupants than was customary in Alera.

Even this city, though, had been strained to its limits, Tavi could see. Dome-shaped tents stood in precise groups around the city’s walls, stretching for thousands of yards over the open ground of the plateau, surrounded by simple earthworks patrolled lightly by warrior Canim in blue-and-black armor. Beyond them, cruder tents had been erected in a far-more-chaotic fashion. As they passed through them, Tavi could see evidence of tanners, smiths, and all manner of other tradesmen necessary to support such a gathering of troops. Members of the maker caste, the tradesmen had evidently overflowed whatever quarters had been intended for their use in the city proper. The cold and the rain kept most of the occupants of the tents inside them, but a few laborers-notably smiths-were still hard at work under flimsy canopies, and wide-eyed Canim children came rushing to the flaps of the tents to watch as the taurga came huffing and swaying through the tent city.

“They’re cute,” Max commented idly. “The little ones.”

Durias snorted.

Tavi glanced over his shoulder at the former slave and arched an eyebrow. “Not cute?”

“They’re adorable,” Durias said. “But I once saw a slave owner who was being taken to his trial try to escape by taking one of them hostage. Little female, maybe five years old. He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, picked her up, and put his arm around her throat. Held her like you might a child you had half a mind to strangle. Had a knife in his other hand.”

Kitai, riding in front of Tavi, turned all the way around in her saddle, comfortably balanced in the rhythm of the walking taurg, her expression intently interested. “What happened?”

“That little female puppy opened up her jaws and just about tore that bad man’s hand off at the wrist,” Durias said. “She did dislocate his shoulder in the process.”

Tavi lifted his eyebrows. “Strong little things.”

“They don’t develop the same way our children do,” Durias said, nodding. “By the time they can run, their muscles are functioning almost at an adult level.”

“What happened to the slave owner?” Kitai asked. “Was he found guilty at the trial?”

“No,” Durias said shortly. “The puppy’s mother was there. So was her uncle. Once the child was out of reach of the knife…”

Tavi winced. Not that he mourned the loss of any man who would take a child prisoner-even the child of an avowed enemy invader-but he couldn’t imagine that a slave owner, no matter how benevolent or law-abiding, could have expected to survive a trial in the hands of a government composed of ex-slaves. Such pressure could drive any man to desperate acts.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Captain,” Durias said, a few seconds later, as though he had read the thoughts behind Tavi’s expression. “The man was a rapist and worse. We did all that we could to spare the lives of those who hadn’t actually abused women or taken a slave’s life themselves.”

Tavi shook his head and chuckled wryly. “There’s going to be a lot of things to be worked out once we get home, you know.”

“Slavery must end, sir,” Durias said. His tone was quiet and respectful, but the words were made of granite and steel. “From there, we are willing to abide as any other freeman. But not until all Alerans are free.”

“That isn’t going to be simple or easy,” Tavi said.

“Worthy things often aren’t, sir.”