Princeps' Fury (Codex Alera 5)

"Then it should make you more eager to stop it-not less."

His eyes flashed in sudden anger. "If I take my Legions from the Wall, the Icemen will slaughter thousands of holders who can't protect themselves. It's as simple as that. Never mind what will happen to the rest of Alera if the Icemen decide to press south and grind us to pieces between two enemies."

"What if they're willing not to do that?"

"They aren't," Raucus growled. "Whatever you talked about in half of an hour today, take it from someone who has spent a lifetime dealing with them. They'll fight. That's all there is to it."

"You use that phrase a great deal," Isana said. She rose and lifted her chin, meeting Raucus's eyes. "What if you're wrong, my lord?"

"I'm not."

"What if you are?" Isana demanded, her voice still gentle. "What if you could achieve a truce with the Icemen and take your forces south to the relief of the First Lord? What if you could be saving thousands of lives, right now-but you aren't?"

His gaze never wavered. A long, silent moment passed.

"I'll make sure your coach is standing by," he said quietly. "Be gone by morning, First Lady."

He bowed to her again, his back and shoulders stiff, then turned and swept from the room.

Isana felt herself begin to shake a moment later, in simple reaction to the tension and stress. She grimaced and folded her hands in her lap, closing her eyes and willing Rill into her own body, to exert some measure of control over her nerves. She urged blood to flow more smoothly, calmly through her limbs, and felt her hands warm up a little. She crossed the room to sit by the little fire-place, her hands extended, and took deep breaths until her quivering fingers stilled.

Araris entered silently and shut the door. He stood there, a silent presence against her senses, his concern a small thing beside the steady warmth of his love.

"He called you Rari," Isana said, without turning.

She didn't need to see him to know that a small smile had quirked up the unmarred side of his face. "I was in my first term at the Academy when he and Septimus were in their second. I followed them around a lot. Raucus bought me my first..." He coughed and she felt a flush of mild embarrassment from him. "... drink."

Isana shook her head, and enjoyed the feel of the smile that came to her mouth. "Thirty years ago. It doesn't seem like it should have been such a long time."

"Time goes by," Araris replied. "But yes. It doesn't feel like it was all that long ago to me, either." His mouth quirked into a small smile. "Then my knees ache and I see grey hairs in the mirror."

She turned to face him. He was leaning back against the door, legs crossed, arms folded over his chest. Isana walked over to him and ran the fingers of one hand lightly over his hair, caressing the silver that peppered the dark brown. "I think you're beautiful."

He captured her fingers in his, and kissed them delicately before murmuring, "You have gone mad."

She shook her head, smiling, and pressed herself against Araris, laying her head on his armored chest. His arms slid around her a moment later.

"You're taking an awful risk," he told her.

"I have little choice," she replied. "The only way to take the Shield Legions south is with Raucus's cooperation. You know the man. Do you think he would murder an essentially unarmed woman in cold blood?"

"Not back when I knew him. But he isn't the man he was when we were young," Araris said. "He's harder. More bitter. I know you want to try to reach out to him, Isana, but bloody crows."

Isana said nothing. She just held on to him.

"Maybe you should think about his offer," Araris said. "Maybe there's another way."

"Such as?"

"Take him south. Let him see the Vord for himself. Reading dispatches is one thing. Seeing it with your own eyes is another."

Isana inhaled and exhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "Open eyes are of little use when the mind behind them is closed."

Araris stroked her hair with one hand. "True enough."

"And... and there's no time." How could it go so quickly when you needed it most?

"If he... hurts you," Araris said calmly, "I'm going to kill him."

She lifted her head sharply and met his eyes. "You mustn't."

His scarred face was completely immobile. "Mustn't I?"

She framed his face with her hands. "The point of this is to reach his heart, Araris. He's built up layers and layers of defenses around his emotions-and being up here, it's easy to see why. He's channeled his passion into protecting his people, fighting the threat that's right here in front of him. Even if I die, trying to reach him, I might get through. I think he's a decent man, beneath the calluses and scars. If my blood is what it takes to wash them away, so be it."

Araris stared down at her for a long moment.

"Bloody crows," he whispered, finally. "I've never known such a woman as you, Isana."

She found her face warming, but she couldn't look away from his steady gaze.

"I love you," he said, simply. "I'll not try to carry you off before you can go out and get hurt tomorrow. I won't try to change what you are."

She didn't trust herself to speak. So she kissed him. Their arms slid around one another, and time went by on the wings of a falcon.

When he finally broke the kiss, though, there was something cold and hard in his voice.

"But I'm not changing who I am, either," he said in that same calm, steady voice. His eyes flashed and hardened. "And if he hurts you, my love, I'll leave his corpse out there on the snow at the foot of his precious Wall."

Chapter 33~34

Chapter 33

Tavi walked slowly forward, shivering beneath the damp coldness of his body-heat-concealing cloak. The weather had cooperated with them remarkably well. Cold rain, mixed with soft-frozen sleet, continued to fall, and the wind had died down to almost nothing as night closed in and slowly drew talons of ice across the face of the land.

As surprise assaults went, it was the most miserable one he could remember actually participating in. His nose was running freely, and he had already, he thought, caught the cold Max had glumly predicted. He didn't want to keep sniffling, and yet wiping at his face with a cloth wasn't something he could spare attention for, either. As a result, his face looked like a small child's-all in all a great deal less dignified than befitted a Princeps of the Realm, he was certain.

Kitai walked on his left, and slightly ahead of him. Her senses were sharper than his, and though he didn't like the idea of letting the young woman be the first to step closer to oncoming danger, he knew better than to ignore the advantage to be gained by doing so. To his right, and slightly behind him, Maximus walked with his hand on his sword. His rough-hewn friend's expression was placid, distant, his eyes focused on nothing, though Tavi had no doubt that Max was perfectly aware of everything around him. He doubtless had a number of furycraftings held ready to use, and doing so was an effort of will and concentration that demanded the most out of the young Antillan.