“Me,” Crassus said a second later.
“Yes,” Magnus said. “You said you’d need finesse as well.”
“I am going,” Kitai stated.
“Lady Ambassador,” Magnus began, “it might be better if-”
“I am going,” Kitai repeated, in exactly the same tone of voice, as she rose and walked over to the cabin’s door. “The Aleran will explain it to you.”
Marcus stepped aside as the Marat woman left the cabin and shut the door behind her.
Octavian shook his head and sighed. “That’s three. Who else, do you think? Radeus? A fast flier might be handy.”
“Durias, sir,” Marcus said, without hesitation.
Octavian arched an eyebrow at the suggestion.
Crassus frowned. “He’s… Isn’t he the First Spear of the Free Aleran Legion?”
Marcus nodded.
“Ridiculous,” Magnus said. “We know almost nothing about the man. He owes nothing to the Realm and has no interest in keeping the Princeps safe. In point of fact, he’s a traitor.”
“Let’s not wave that brush around too wildly, Magnus,” Octavian said. “You never know whom it will stain.”
Marcus found himself smiling faintly, and Octavian answered the expression with one of his own. The young man would think Marcus was smiling about the young Princeps’ actions of the year before, when he had infiltrated the Grey Tower in Alera Imperia and kidnapped Ambassador Varg out from under the noses of the Grey Guard. Let him. Octavian had enough on his mind without burdening him with another bit of unpleasant knowledge.
“Why Durias, First Spear?” Octavian asked.
“He knows the Canim, sir,” Marcus replied. “He worked closely with them, marched beside them, trained with one. He’ll know them better than any of us-even better than you, sir. Know their capabilities in comparison to ours, know their methods, know the way they think. He’ll be better able than almost anyone in the expedition to tell you what the Canim do and do not know about Aleran capabilities, and unless I miss my guess, he’s no slouch with his own earthcrafting or knowledge of fieldcraft.”
The old Cursor stared quietly at Marcus for a long moment before he finally spoke. “The question is,” Magnus said, “whether or not he’ll be
“Nor would I, had I lived as he did,” Octavian replied. “Alerans enslaved him. Varg’s people freed him from bondage and taught him to fight so that he could protect that freedom. I’d be more than half-willing to let Alera hang, if I’d grown up in the same circumstances.”
“Then I advise you to choose someone else,” Magnus said.
Octavian shook his head. “The First Spear is right, Magnus. Max and Crassus, between them, have all the furycraft anyone could need. Kitai is one of the better scouts and trackers in the Legion. I’d trust her to be able to find her way back to the ship if the Canim blindfolded her and tossed her in a sack for the journey to visit their Warmaster.” He thumped a finger against the side of his head. “What’s more valuable to us now than any number of swords or furies is knowledge-all we can get. Durias has it. We need it. So we need him.”
“And what makes you think he’ll cooperate?” Magnus said.
Octavian smiled. “I did him a good turn once.”
Maximus snorted. “Aye. His nose never did heal up straight from your good turn, either.”
“Leave Durias to me,” the Princeps said, his tone confident. “Magnus, would you see to it that he gets a message. Invite him to come see me at his earliest convenience, please.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Good. Gentlemen, if you would excuse me, I would speak with the First Spear for a moment.”
The others took their leave and departed the cabin, leaving Marcus alone with the Princeps.
“Sir?” Marcus said, once they were alone.
“Sit down, please,” Octavian said, gesturing at the other chair in the cabin.
Marcus pulled up the chair and did so, frowning. “You about to demote me or something, sir?”
Octavian’s mouth turned up into a quick grin. “Something like that. Magnus tells me that you did some excellent work gathering intelligence during the voyage. That you managed to get a look at several of their charts- and that you were the one the Hunters contacted when they wanted to pass information along to us.”
Marcus shrugged. “The
“Nevertheless, you were the one who did it,” Octavian said. “You went beyond anything you could reasonably have been expected to do, Marcus.” He folded his hands and frowned. “And I’m about to ask you to go even further.”
Marcus frowned and waited.
“I’m leaving you in command of the Legions,” Octavian said.
Marcus lifted his eyebrows. “Sir? You can’t do that.”
“The crows I can’t. I’m the Princeps of bloody Alera and the commander of this expedition. I can establish whatever chain of command I think appropriate.”
Marcus shook his head. “Sir, there are a number of Tribunes in the First who outrank me-and I’m not at all sure that the Captain of the Free Aleran is going to like the idea of a centurion in the First Aleran giving him orders.”
“You’ve got more field experience than any two Tribunes in either Legion,” the Princeps replied. “And there aren’t many men alive who are members of the Crown’s House of the Valiant. Even in the Free Aleran, the name of Valiar Marcus carries respect.”
Marcus frowned and looked down at the scarred knuckles of his hands.
“It’s more or less an open secret by now,” Octavian continued. “Magnus isn’t really a mere valet.”
“Cursor?” Marcus asked, purely for form. Valiar Marcus would need to confirm a suspicion, after all. He wouldn’t be one hundred percent certain.
The Princeps nodded. “My grandfather appointed him my advisor in political matters. I intend his decisions to guide the expedition in diplomatic matters while I am gone. You have authority over security or military decisions. In the end, though, Marcus, I expect you to keep everything together until I get back.”
Marcus exhaled slowly. “Understood, sir.”
“I’ll be meeting with the Tribunes shortly, to let them know how I expect things to run in my absence-and with the officers of the Free Aleran, after that. All things considered, I think they’ll be nervous enough at being surrounded by hostile Canim to be willing to be cooperative, provided they’re treated with respect.”
“I’ll break enough heads to get that point across, sir,” Marcus promised.
“Good,” Octavian said, rising, and Marcus mirrored the gesture.
“Sir?” Marcus asked. “May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Do you really expect to come back from this meeting with the Shuaran Warmaster alive?”
The young Princeps’ face became an expressionless mask. “You don’t think he’s going to meet with me in good faith?”
“Your Highness,” Marcus said, “from what I’ve heard, there is a bloody idiot in charge of the warrior caste here.”
“Yes,” the Princeps said. “That’s true.”
Marcus grimaced. “Then they’re hiding something, sir.”
“Why do you say that, First Spear?”
“Think about it. If you had one bloody fortified port on your entire shoreline, would you leave an incompetent in charge of it? Or would you put the best commander you could find in that position.”
Octavian frowned, his brow furrowing.
“Doesn’t make any sense,” Marcus said. “There’s got to be some kind of pressure forcing that kind of appointment. Which says to me that this Warmaster doesn’t have the kind of control he would like to have. If I were you, sir, I’d want to know why not. Might be important.”
