Princeps’ Fury

Max grunted and set one of his boots lightly against the back of Tavi’s armor and mimed a faint push. “Would you care for a flying lesson, Your Highness? Though in all fairness, I should warn you that it might give the lie to your honorific.”

Tavi looked back over his shoulder and grinned at his friend. Max settled down on the edge of the roof with him and watched the fight.

“They can’t win this,” Max said quietly.

“I know that,” Tavi said. “They know it, too. A lot of them won’t admit it to themselves, but they know.”

“The Vord aren’t going to stop here,” Max said. “Are they?”

“No,” Tavi said. “Alera was fortunate and decisive enough to smash them when they were weakest. We established ourselves as the primary threat to them. So they came here to where they would have more opportunity to spread and reproduce. They won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Bloody crows,” Max sighed. “I thought you would say something like that.” He jerked his chin at the vast force of nightmarish Vord. “We couldn’t stop that. Not with all the Legions in Alera, and every crafter to boot.”

“Not with standard tactics, no,” Tavi said.

Max grunted. “You have something in mind?”

Tavi smiled slightly. It was a better answer than “I have no idea how we’ll survive this,” without actually crossing the line into speaking a falsehood to his friend.

Max eyed him for a moment, then nodded, his big frame relaxing visibly. “Fine,” he said. “Be that way.”

“Thank you,” Tavi replied. “I will.”

Max was quiet for a moment more, watching the battle. “Seems a shame. Great furies, the Canim have guts.”

“That wasn’t exactly unexpected. Not after what the Narashans did to us.”

Max waved a hand. “Even so.”

Tavi nodded. “I know what you mean.”

“Is there anything that can be done for them?”

Tavi shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not given their attitude toward us. Lararl is determined to hold out, and enough of his people believe it’s possible to enable him to keep his position of authority.”

“I suppose,” Max answered. “I’m not sure our people would act any differently. Most of the High Lords would die fighting rather than be driven from their lands.”

“We’ll see. And before too long.”

The words had a sobering effect upon Tavi’s friend. He was quiet for several more moments.

“What do we do about Crassus?” Max asked.

“We wait,” Tavi replied. “For now. If he hasn’t made contact by this evening, we’ll consider our alternatives.”

“He’s all right,” Max said. “He’s faster than a hungry crow, and bloody near impossible to see while he’s flying. He’s fine.”

Of course, if that was true, where was Crassus? Again, Tavi refrained from speaking his mind. “I haven’t seen anything here that could present a real threat to him.”

Max nodded, then sighed. “Maybe old Magnus is up to something. Holding him back for some reason.”

“Maybe.”

Max growled and rose to his feet, pacing restlessly. “I just can’t stomach waiting around and doing nothing.”

Tavi reached into one of the leather pouches on his belt and produced a stick of charcoal and several folded pieces of parchment. “Here,” he said. “Take these and draw a map of the city. Every building you can see from up here. It might come in handy if we need to walk out for some reason.”

Max took the paper and charcoal. “You aren’t going to last long as First Lord if you go around handing your singulares compulsory homework, my lord.”

“I know. But if I’m forced to spend my time listening to all their complaining, I’ll knife myself and save the assassins the bother.”

Max snorted and ambled away, surveying the Canim city and beginning to draw on the topmost sheet of paper.

Kitai emerged from the shelter and settled down beside Tavi, watching the battle with mild disinterest. “That was kind of you.”

“Hmm?”

“Giving Max something to occupy his mind.”

“Oh, that,” Tavi said. “He’s quite a bit brighter than he lets on. He kept passing marks at the Academy for two years, despite the fact that he debauched himself practically every night. If I didn’t give him something to do, he’d drive us all insane.”

“A pity there is not more privacy,” Kitai murmured. “I could certainly use something to occupy my… mind.” She smiled and found Tavi’s hand with hers. “Walk with me?”

Tavi gave her a bemused smile. “That won’t take long.”

Kitai jerked her chin toward the carnage at the fortifications. “I’m tired of looking at that. You should be, too.”

Tavi gave the battle one last glance and shook his head. “Perhaps you’re right, but…” They rose and began pacing the edge of the roof. When they were the farthest they could get from the others on the roof, Tavi asked, “What’s on your mind?”

“We should have heard from Crassus by now,” she said.

“Yes.”

“And so you do nothing?”

“I am waiting.”

Kitai absorbed that for a moment, her expression serious. “Since I have known you, I have learned the single greatest activity at which you have little skill-sitting patiently.” Her green eyes searched his. “Especially not in the face of so massive a threat, chala.”