Furies of Calderon (80 page)

“Odiana,” Bernard said. “That water witch that attacked you in the river. Your aunt saved her from being killed by Kord. She was hiding among the corpses at the base of the wall. She saved me. Fade, too.”

Amara turned to a pitcher nearby and poured water into a cup for Tavi, handing it to him. “Drink up. Once you get liquid back in you, you’ll be hungry, right enough.”

Tavi nodded his thanks to her and drank. His hand, the one that had been broken, felt a little weak, and he switched the cup to the other. “You’re all right, too?”

She smiled, a wan expression. “Alive. Some scars. I’ll be all right.”

“I’m sorry,” Tavi said. “I lost the dagger.”

Amara shook her head. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Tavi. You stood against two men who have killed more people between them than anyone I know of. It was very brave. You shouldn’t feel ashamed for not getting the dagger.”

“But without it, Aquitaine gets away with it. You can’t prove he’s guilty, right?”

Amara frowned. “I’d be careful what I said, if I were you, Tavi. If someone overhears you, you may face prosecution yourself for slander.”

Amara laughed, a sudden, bright sound. “Yes,” she agreed. “But look at it this way. You saved the Valley and who knows how many stead-holts beyond it. You’re a hero.”

Tavi blinked. “Uh. I am?”

Amara nodded, her expression grave. “I filed my report yesterday. The First Lord himself is coming out tomorrow to present several people with rewards for their courage.”

Tavi shook his head. “I’m not very courageous. I don’t feel like a hero.”

Amara’s eyes sparkled. “Perhaps you will, later.”

Isana walked briskly into the room, wearing fresh clothing and a crisp apron. “Tavi,” she said, her tone brisk. “Get back into bed this instant.”

Tavi leapt for the covers.

Isana frowned at Bernard. “And you. Bernard, you
know
I told you to make the boy stay in bed.”

He grinned, sheepishly. “Oh, right.”

Isana stepped over to her brother and touched his temples. “Hmph. Well you’re not going to cause chaos in here any longer. Get your lazy bones out of bed and go eat.”

Bernard grinned and leaned forward, giving Isana a kiss on the forehead. “Whatever the water-crafter orders.”

“Bah. Amara, are you still feeling well? No fever, no nausea?”

Amara shook her head, smiling, and turned her back tactfully when Bernard rose to pull on his trousers and a loose tunic, moving stiffly. “I’m fine, Mistress Isana. You did a wonderful job.”

“Good. Now get out. The boy needs to rest.”

Bernard smiled and ruffled Tavi’s hair. Then he stepped up beside Amara and took her hand. The Cursor blinked and looked down at his hand, then back up at his face. She smiled, and her cheeks flushed with color.

“Oh go on,” Isana said, and slapped Bernard’s shoulder. He grinned, and the two walked out of the room. They weren’t walking very quickly, Tavi noticed. And they walked very close together.

Isana turned to Tavi and put her fingers on his temples, then smiled at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty, ma’am.”

She smiled and refilled his cup. “I was so worried. Tavi, I’m so proud of what you have done. Everyone in the Valley thinks you’re quite the young hero.”

Tavi blinked at her and sipped at his drink. “Do I… you know. Have to do anything? Learn to make speeches or something?”

She laughed and kissed his forehead. “Just rest. You’re a brave person, Tavi, and you think about others more than yourself, when hard times come. Always remember who you are.” She rose. “There are some visitors coming, but I don’t want you to talk to them for very long. Drink your water and then get some more sleep. I’ll bring up some food later this evening, when you’re ready.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tavi said. He watched her walk toward the door, and just before she left, he asked her, “Aunt Isana? Who is Araris Valerian?”

Isana stopped in the doorway, frowning. She drew a breath. “He… he was one of the royal guardsmen. One of Princeps Septimus’s personal bodyguards. A famous swordsman.”

She slipped out. A moment later, Doroga ducked his head to slip beneath the doorway and strode into the room. The huge Marat headman was dressed in his loincloth, together with a cloak with a mantle of thanadent feathers and a garish, pale red tunic. Aleran boots dangled in his belt, though his own feet were bare, and rings decorated every finger. His left arm was in a sling, swollen and discolored, but he seemed in good spirits and smiled at Tavi, moving to his bed and crushing his hand in a friendly, monstrous grip.

Behind him walked Kitai, scowling, dressed in a loincloth and wearing an Aleran tunic carelessly stained with food and dirt. Her long, pale hair had been pulled back into a neat braid, revealing the delicate curves of her cheekbones and neck.

“Well, young warrior,” Doroga said. “I have paid you back for saving my whelp—”

“Daughter,” Kitai interjected. “I am not a whelp anymore, father.”

“Daughter,” Doroga rumbled, with an expansive smile. “You saved my daughter, and I paid you back for it. But then you saved me as well. I find myself still in your debt.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Tavi said.

“You shouted a warning to me, Tavi,” Doroga said. “Without it, I would have died.” He squeezed Tavi’s shoulders, and Tavi briefly thought something was going to break again. “Thank you.”

“But what I did was small. You’re the one who did all the big things. You led a horde against another horde, sir. A horde of your own people.”

“I set out to repay my debt to you,” Doroga said. “Finish what you set out to do. It is part of being a man.” Doroga smiled at him and rose. “Kitai.”

Kitai’s scowl deepened, though something around her eyes softened at the words. “I am going to learn to ride a horse,” she stated. “If it is all right with you.”

“Uh. Sure, whatever. Good, that’s great, Kitai.” Tavi glanced at Doroga, hopefully.

Doroga rolled his eyes and sighed. Then said, “We should go. Your headman wants to thank me tomorrow, and Kitai should wash her tunic.”

Kitai snapped, “Whelps wear tunics. It is foolish to make me wear this one. I don’t like it, I don’t want it. Why shouldn’t I wear what the rest of the Marat women wear?”

“You want to walk around here naked like that?” Tavi demanded. “Are you crazy? Dress like a normal person while you’re here.”

Doroga abruptly smiled at Tavi, his face stretching into a broad grin. “Good. That is good.”

Kitai folded her arms and shot Tavi a look that could have crumbled stones to dust. Tavi sank a bit under the sheets. Kitai made a sound of disgust and stalked out of the room.

Doroga broke into a rumbling laugh and ruffled Tavi’s hair in a gesture peculiarly like Uncle Bernard’s. “Doomed, young warrior. Doomed. But her mother and I started off that way.”

Tavi blinked. “What?”

“We will see one another again.” Doroga turned to go.

“
What
?” Tavi said again. “Her mother w
hat
? Doroga, wait!”

Doroga didn’t slow, rumbling out a low laugh as he left the room. “Remember what I said, Tavi. We will speak again.”

Tavi settled back on the bed, scowling, folding his arms, pensive. He had the definite impression that he had gotten in over his head, somewhere along the way.

Tavi frowned, pondering. “Finish what I started.”

There was a gentle knock at the doorway, and Tavi looked up to see Fade’s scarred, homely face smiling in at him from the hall. “Tavi,” Fade said, his tone happy.

Tavi reached out to take it and found it heavier than he expected. He lay it on his lap and unwrapped the cloth from around it. The cloth turned out to be one of the scarlet capes from the Princeps’ Memorium, and wrapped within it, in an old and travel worn scabbard, was the battered old blade Amara had carried from the Memorium, and that Fade had used upon the wall.

Tavi looked up at Fade, who smiled witlessly at him. “For you.”

Tavi frowned. “You don’t have to keep up the act, Fade,” he said quietly.

For a moment, something glittered in Fade’s eyes, above the coward’s brand on his cheek. He regarded Tavi in silence for a moment and then gave him a deliberate wink. “For you,” he repeated in that same voice, and then turned to go.

Tavi looked up to see a man standing in the doorway. He was tall, broad of shoulder and long of limb. His face did not look much older than his uncle’s, but there was something about his faded green eyes that spoke of more years than were evident. Silver streaked his hair, and a heavy cloak of plain, grey fabric covered him except for what his hood revealed of his face.

Fade glanced warily back at Tavi and then nodded his head deeply to the stranger. He shuffled out the door after giving Tavi another witless smile, and vanished into the hall.

The stranger shut the door quietly behind Fade and moved to sit down on the bed beside Tavi’s, his green eyes never leaving the boy. “Do you know me?”

Tavi swallowed. “I was just trying to get my sheep home, sir. That’s all I meant to happen, I mean. After that, everything just sort of…”

“Got complicated?” Gaius suggested.

Tavi flushed and nodded. “Exactly.”

“That’s how these things happen. I don’t want to keep you up long, so I’ll come to the point. I owe you. Name your reward, and you’ll have it.”

Tavi blinked at the First Lord, his mouth falling open again. “Anything?” he asked.

“Within reason.”

“Then I want you to help the holders who got hurt, and the families of those who were killed. Winter’s coming on, and it’s going to be hard for all of us.”

Gaius lifted both eyebrows and tilted his head to one side. “Truly? Given anything to choose from, that is your choice of rewards?”

Tavi felt his jaw set, stubbornly. He met Gaius’s eyes with his own, and nodded.

Gaius murmured, “Amazing.” The First Lord shook his head. “Very well. I’ll have Crown aid dispensed to those who suffered loss on a case-by-case basis by the local Count. Fair enough?”

“It might be difficult for someone with your… limitations, shall we say? You will be in the company of the sons and daughters of merchants and nobles and wealthy houses from all over Alera. Many of them strong crafters. It may provide you with a great many challenges.”