Furies of Calderon ca-1 Page 4

  She flew on, up and away from the camp and paused after a time to look behind her. The cliff she'd leapt from looked like a toy from there, several miles behind her and one below. "Cirrus," she murmured, and held her hands before her. The fury gusted and swirled a part of itself into that space, quivering like the waves rising from a hot stone.

  Amara shaped that air with her hands, bending the light, until she was peering back at the cliff through her spread hands as though she stood no more than a hundred yards away. She saw the hunting party emerge and Aldrick dismount. The legionare who had seen her described her escape, and Aldrick squinted up at the sky, sweeping his eyes left to right. Amara felt a chill as the man's gaze paused, directly upon her. He tilted his head to

  the man beside him, the woodcrafter Knight from before, and the man simply touched one of the trees.

  Amara swallowed and swept her hands back toward the rebel Legion's camp.

  Half a dozen forms rose up over the treetops, which swayed and danced beneath the winds, as though they had been the bushes in a holtwife's herb garden. They turned, and as one, they sped toward her. Sun glinted off of steel-armor and weapons, she knew.

  "Knights Aeris," muttered Amara. She swallowed and let her hands fall. Normally, she would have been confident of her ability to outrun them. But now, wounded, and already exhausted in body and spirit, she was not so sure.

  Amara turned and bade Cirrus to bear her north and east-and prayed that the sun would set before her foes caught up to her.

  Chapter 3

  Tavi slipped out of his room, down the stairs, and through the silence of the last shreds of night before dawn. He entered the cavernous shadows of the great hall, noting a faint glow of light in the kitchens beside the great hall. Old Bitte rarely slept more than a few hours a night, and Tavi heard her moving through the kitchen, preparing it for the coming breakfast meal.

  He unbolted the door and left the great hall for Bernardholt's courtyard. One of the steadholt's dogs lifted his head from the empty barrel he used as a kennel, and Tavi stooped to scratch the old hound's ears. The dog thumped his tail against the barrel's interior and laid his head back down to sleep. Tavi drew his cloak over his shoulders against the chill of the dying autumn night and opened the postern door to leave the safety of Bernardholt.

  The door opened to reveal his uncle Bernard, leaning casually against the doorway, dressed in leathers and a heavy green cloak for a day in the wilderness beyond the steadholt's fields. He lifted an apple to his mouth and crunched into it. Bernard was a large man with broad shoulders and the heavy muscles of hard labor. His dark hair, cropped close in a Legion cut, showed a fleck or two of grey, though none such appeared in his close-trimmed beard. He wore a quiver of hunting arrows at his side, riding beside his Legion-issued sword, and he carried the stave to the lightest of his bows unstrung in his hand.

  Tavi drew up short, with a flutter of apprehension. Then he spread his hands, silently conceding the victory to Bernard, and then offered his uncle a faint smile. "How did you know?"

  Bernard returned the smile, though there was a wary cast to it. "Fade saw you drinking a lot of extra water last night, after you came in so late, and pointed it out to me. It's an old soldier's trick to get up early."

  "Oh," Tavi said. "Yes, sir."

  "I counted the flocks," Bernard said. "Looks like we might be a few heads short."

  "Yes, sir," Tavi said. He licked his lips nervously. "I'm going to bring them in now."

  "I was under the impression that you had done so last night. Since you marked down a full count on the tally slate."

  Tavi's cheeks grew warm, and he felt glad for the dimness. "Dodger led his ewes and their lambs out last night, when I was trying to bring the south flock in. I didn't want you to worry."

  Bernard shook his head. "Tavi, you know that today is important. The other Steadholders will be arriving for the truthfind, and I don't need any distractions."

  "I'm sorry, Uncle. Why don't you stay here, then? I can find Dodger and bring him back in."

  "I don't like you wandering around the valley alone, Tavi."

  "I'm going to have to eventually, uncle. Unless you planned on following me around for the rest of my life."

  Bernard sighed. "Your aunt would murder me."

  Tavi gritted his teeth. "I can do it by myself. I'll be careful and be back before noon."

  "That's not really the point. You were supposed to bring them in last night," Bernard said. "What kept you from it?"

  Tavi swallowed. "Um. I'd promised to do someone a favor. I didn't have time to get them both done before dark."

  Bernard sighed. "Crows, Tavi. I really thought you had done a lot of growing up this season. That you were learning to handle responsibility."

  Tavi felt suddenly sick to his stomach. "You're not going to gift me the sheep, are you?"

  Bernard said, "I don't begrudge you getting your fair dues. I was glad-I am glad to help you get started with your own flock. But I'm not just going to throw them away. If you can't show me that you'll take care of them properly, I can't give them to you."

  "It isn't like I'd be keeping them long."

  "Perhaps not. It's the principle of the thing, lad. Nothing comes free."

  "But Uncle," Tavi protested. "It's my only chance to make something of myself."

  Bernard grunted. "Then you probably shouldn't have chosen to…" He frowned. "Tavi, what did you need to do that was more important than the flocks?"

  Tavi's face grew warmer yet. "Um."

  Bernard arched an eyebrow and said, "Oh, I see."

  "See what?"

  "There's a girl."

  Tavi knelt and tightened the straps on his boots to hide his scowl and said, "Why would you say that?"

  "You're a fifteen-year-old boy, Tavi. There's always a girl."

  "No, there isn't," Tavi insisted.

  Bernard mused over that for a moment and shrugged. "When you want to talk about it, let me know." He pushed himself off the wall with one shoulder and strung his bow with one leg and the pressure of an arm. "We'll discuss your gifting later. Where do you think we should pick up Dodger's trail?"

  Tavi drew his leather sling from his pouch and put a couple of smooth stones into the pocket of his tunic. "Won't Brutus be able to find him?"

  Bernard smiled. "I thought you said you could do this on your own."

  Tavi frowned at his uncle and scrunched up his nose, thinking. "Cold's coming on, and they know it. They'll want evergreens for shelter and for food. But the gargants were turned out to forage on the southern slope of the valley, and they won't go anywhere near gargants if they can help it." Tavi nodded. "North. Dodger has taken them into the pine hollows over the causeway."

  Bernard nodded in approval. "Good. Remember that furycrafting is no substitute for intelligence, Tavi."

  "And intelligence is no substitute for a fury," Tavi muttered sourly. He kicked at the ground, scuffing up a small cloud of dust and dried, dead grasses.

  Bernard laid a heavy hand on Tavi's shoulder, squeezed, and then started walking north, down the old lane worn by the passage of carts and draft animals and feet. "It's not as bad as you think, Tavi. Furies aren't everything."

  "Says the man with two of them," Tavi said, following him. "Aunt Isana says you could challenge for full Citizenship if you wanted to."

  Bernard shrugged. "If I wanted to, perhaps. But I didn't come into my furies until I was almost your age."

  "But you were a slow bloomer," Tavi said. "I'm way past that. No one's ever been my age and furyless."

  Bernard sighed. "You don't know that, Tavi. Relax, boy. It will come to you in time."

  "That's what you've told me since I was ten. If I'd had furies of my own, I could have stopped Dodger and still…" He choked down his anger before he could blurt out the words.

  Uncle Bernard glanced back at Tavi, smiling with only his eyes. "Come on, lad. Let's pick up the pace. I need to be back before the other Stead-holders arrive.
"

  Tavi nodded, and they broke into a mile-eating lope down the winding lane. The sky began to lighten as they passed the apple orchards, the beehives, and then the northern fields laid fallow for a season. The lane wound through a forest of mostly oak and maple, where most of the trees were so ancient that only the most meager grass and brush could grow beneath them. By the time the predawn pale blue had given way to the first tints of orange and yellow, they had reached the last stretch of woods before leaving the lands of Bernardholt. There the forest was not so old, and smaller trees and brush, some of it still living despite the lateness of the season, stood thick and heavy. Golden and scarlet leaves covered the dried skeletons of the smaller brush, and the naked, sleeping trees swayed in a chorus of gentle creaking.

  And then something in his surroundings brought an odd kind of pressure to Tavi's senses. He stopped and let out a short, warning hiss of breath. From a full jog, Bernard abruptly dropped to a crouch, and Tavi instinctively followed suit.

  Bernard looked silently back at Tavi, cocking an eyebrow in a silent question.

  Tavi stayed on all fours and crawled up beside his uncle. He kept his voice to a whisper between panting breaths and said, "Up ahead, in that last

  stand of trees by the brook There's usually a covey of quail there, but I saw them heading along the lane "

  "You think something spooked them out," Bernard said He murmured, "Cyprus," and flicked his right hand toward the trees beside him in a signal to the lesser of his two furies Tavi looked up and saw a shape glide down from one of the trees-vaguely humanoid and no larger than a child It turned pale green eyes toward Bernard for a moment, crouching down like an animal Leaves and twigs seemed to writhe together to cover whatever shape lay beneath them Cyprus tilted its head to one side, focusing on Bernard, and then made a sound like wind rustling through the leaves and vanished into the brush

  Tavi was winded from the run and struggled to slow his breathing "What is it'" he whispered

  Bernard's eyes slipped out of focus for a moment before he answered "You were right Well done, boy There's someone hiding near the footbridge They've got a strong fury with them "

  "Bandits'?" Tavi whispered

  His uncle's eyes narrowed "It's Kord "

  Tavi frowned "I thought the other Steadholders were supposed to be arriving later today And why would they be hiding in the trees'"

  Bernard grunted, rising "Let's go find out "

  Tavi followed his uncle on down the road Bernard walked with quiet purpose toward the causeway, as if he had every intention of traveling past the hidden men Then, without warning, he spun to his left, arrow in hand, drew back the bow and loosed a grey-feathered shaft at a clump of bushes and detritus a few paces from the near side of the small, stone footbridge that crossed a murmuring brook

  Tavi heard a scream, and the leaves and bushes thrashed wildly A moment later a boy about Tavi's age emerged from the bushes, one hand clenched upon the seat of his breeches He had a broad, strong build and a face that would be handsome if it had been less petulant Bittan, of Kord-holt, Kord's youngest son "Bloody crows'" the boy howled "Are you insane'"

  "Bittan'" called Bernard in obviously feigned surprise "Oh dear I had no idea that was you back there "

  From further down the trail, a second young man rose out of hiding- Kord's eldest son, Aric He was leaner than his brother, taller, and several years older He wore his hair pulled back into a tail, and pensive frown lines

  had already established themselves between his eyebrows. He watched Bernard warily and called, "Bittan? You all right?"

  The boy screamed, furious, "No I'm not all right! I'm shot!"

  Tavi peered at the other boy and muttered to his uncle, "You shot him?"

  "Just grazed him."

  Tavi grinned. "Maybe you hit him in the brain."

  Bernard smiled a wolfish smile and said nothing.

  From still further back in the brush, leaves crackled and dead wood snapped. A moment later, Steadholder Kord emerged from the bracken. He wasn't terribly tall, but his shoulders seemed too large for him, and his brawny arms looked unnaturally long. Kord wore a patched and faded grey tunic, badly in need of a thorough washing, and heavy gargant-hide leggings. He wore his symbol of office, the heavy chain of a Steadholder around his neck. The chain was smudged and looked greasy, but Tavi supposed that it made a better match for his unkempt greying hair and patchy beard.

  Kord moved with an aggressive tension, and his eyes were cold with anger. "What the crows do you think you're doing, Bernard?"

  Bernard waved a friendly hand at Kord, but Tavi noted that he held an arrow along with the bow in his other. "Little accident," he said. "I mistook your boy there for some kind of robber lurking by the road to attack travelers."

  Kord's eyes narrowed. "Are you accusing me of something?"

  "Of course not," Bernard drawled, his smile not touching his eyes. "This is just a misunderstanding. Thank the great furies no one got hurt." He paused for a moment, his smile vanishing before he said, quietly, "I'd hate to have someone get hurt on my land."

  Kord snarled, a sound more bestial than human, and rolled forward a furious step. The ground under his feet rumbled and quivered, restless little hummocks rising and falling as though some kind of serpent slithered about just beneath the surface.

  Bernard faced Kord without looking away, stirring, or changing his expression.

  Kord growled again, and with a visible effort choked back his anger. "One of these days I'm going to get upset with you, Bernard."

  "Don't say things like that, Kord," Tavi's uncle replied. "You'll frighten the boy."

  Kord's eyes flicked to Tavi, and the boy felt suddenly uneasy under that intense and angry regard.

  "He come into any furies yet, or are you finally going to admit what a useless little freak he is'"

  The simple comment pierced Tavi like a thorn, and he opened his mouth to make a furious response

  Bernard settled his hand on Tavi's shoulder and said, "Don't worry about my nephew " He glanced at Bittan 'After all, you've got other concerns Why don't you head on down to the steadholt' I'm sure Isana is getting something ready for you "

  "Think we'll stay here a while," Kord said "Maybe eat a little breakfast "

  "Suit yourself," Bernard said, and stared on down the lane Tavi followed close behind them Bernard ignored Kord until they had crossed the footbridge "Oh," Bernard said, looking over his shoulder "I forgot to mention that Warner already came in last night, Kord His sons are on leave from the Legions so that they could visit their father "

  "Bring them on," Bittan snapped "We'll tear them apa-"

  Kord delivered an openhanded blow to Bittan's face that knocked the boy to the ground "Shut your mouth "

  Bittan shook his head, dazed and scowling He didn't answer Kord or look at his father as he stood up

  "Go on down," Bernard said "I'm sure we can get everything worked out "

  Kord didn't reply He beckoned his sons with a curt gesture and started down the lane They followed him, and Bittan cast a harsh, hateful glare at Tavi as he walked "Freak "

  Tavi clenched his hands into fists, but let the comment pass Bernard nodded his approval, and they waited as Kord and his sons headed down the lane to Bernardholt

  As they watched, Tavi said, "They were there to attack Warner, weren't they, uncle'"

  "It's possible," Bernard said "That's why your aunt asked Warner to come in last night Kord is desperate "

  "Why' It's Bittan that's been accused, not him "

  "Rape is a realm offense," Bernard answered "Kord is the family head, and he shares responsibility for offenses against the realm If the truthfind shows that there needs to be a trial, and Bittan is judged guilty, Count Gram could remove Kord's claim to Kordholt "

  "You think he'd kill to protect it'" Tavi asked

  "I think men who lust for power are capable of almost anything " He

  shook his head. "Kord sees power as something to s
atisfy his desires, instead of a tool to protect and serve the people beholden to him. It's a stupid attitude, and it will eventually get him killed-but until then it makes him dangerous."

  "He scares me," Tavi said.

  "He scares anyone with good sense, boy." Bernard passed his bow to Tavi and opened a pouch on his belt. He withdrew a small glass button from it and dropped it over the side of the footbridge and into the brook. "Rill," he said firmly. "I need to speak to Isana, please."

  They waited there on the bridge for several moments before the sounds of the brook began to change. A column of water rose straight up out of the brook, taking on human form as it did so, until it had formed into a liquid sculpture of Tavi's aunt, Isana, a woman with the youthful form and features of a strong watercrafter, but the bearing and voice of a mature adult.

  The sculpture peered around, eventually focusing on Bernard and Tavi. "Good morning, Bernard, Tavi." Her voice sounded tinny, as if it had come down to them through a long tube.

  "Aunt Isana," Tavi said, bowing his head politely.

  "Sis," Bernard drawled. "We just ran into Kord and his sons. They were waiting around in the brush near the north bridge."

  Isana shook her head. "The fool can't be serious."

  "I think he was," Bernard said. "I think he knows that with what Bittan did, Gram will get him this time."

  Isana's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "I doubt having a woman appointed the truthfinder for this crime has pleased him, either."

  Bernard nodded. "You might want to make sure someone is close, just in case. They're coming down the lane to you now."

  Isana's image in the water frowned. "When will you return?"

  "Before noon, with luck. Before dinner, otherwise."

  "Try to hurry. I'll keep things civil for as long as I can, but I'm not sure anyone but you can make Kord back down without shedding blood."

  "I will. Be careful."

  Isana nodded. "And you. Old Bitte says that Garados and his wife are brewing up a storm for us, by nightfall at the latest."

  Tavi shot an uneasy glance to the northeast, where the towering mountain of Garados sat glowering down at the inhabitants of the Calderon Valley. Its upper slopes were already growing white with ice, and clouds obscured the