Home > Captain's Fury (Codex Alera #4)(26)

Captain's Fury (Codex Alera #4)(26)
Author: Jim Butcher

She rose and stretched. "Where are we?"

"The western reaches of the Weeping Hills."

Amara frowned. "That's... that's in Kalare's territory, isn't it?"

"At its fringes, yes," Gaius said. "Though very few folk live in this area, and the land between where we stand and the sea is all wilderness. In fact, I doubt that there are any living souls, excepting ourselves, within forty or fifty miles, if that. We are some three hundred miles southwest of the city of Kalare itself. Tea?"

"Please." Amara accepted the mug he poured for her from a tin pot hung beside the fire. It felt good beneath her chilled fingers, and she sipped at it very slowly. "Three hundred miles?"

"Yes. And, I'm afraid, we walk from here."

Amara felt her eyebrows go up. "Sire?"

"It's the only way." Gaius gestured at the fire beside him. "Sit, sit. I'll explain."

Amara settled down by the fire and took stock of the camp. There was evidence of a small but complete amount of field gear-bedrolls, cooking utensils, a small set of tools, and what looked like an emergency tent. Gaius must have had it waiting here for them.

"We're going to Kalare," Gaius said.

"Sire?" Amara frowned down at her tea. "I don't understand. The Legions in the field are going there, too."

Gaius shook his head. "They're fighting a campaign to get there. This isn't the same thing at all. I don't need to fight for the territory. I simply need to be there."

"Why not just fly in?"

Gaius shook his head. "Kalarus has been clever. He must have been planning for this since he first succeeded to the title. His network of watch furies is extensive to the point of insanity."

Amara frowned. "Watch furies... I don't understand."

"Furies tasked to react to a particular presence-in this case, my own. If I come within three hundred miles of Kalare in the air, he'll know it."

"Can't you just remove them?"

"Of course," Gaius said. "But their sudden silence would warn him of my presence very nearly as effectively as if they started screaming about me. I can only imagine that maintaining such a network is a constant irritant. Likely it's a reflection of his personality. Paranoid, damnably paranoid. Obsessive. Formidable."

Amara nodded. "I don't understand then, what we're doing here."

"There's a flaw in Kalarus's planning," Gaius said. "He'll see any approach from the air-but on the ground, all of his furies are geared to keep watch for me by means of being on the lookout for my furies. My power." Gaius glanced up at her. "So I'm borrowing a page from our young captain. I'm walking in. No crafting. Kalarus will not expect that. He would never do such a thing, not in a thousand years, and he is blind to anything that isn't himself."

Amara began to speak, then frowned and sipped at her tea instead, thinking over her words. "Sire," she said after a moment. "That's a long walk. A very long walk. Particularly for... for..."

"A man my age?" the First Lord said, his rich voice amused. "Yes. I'm aware." He glanced back at the low fire, and his smile faded. "But it must be done."

Amara shook her head. "But why, sire? What do you hope to accomplish?"

"I'm going to break Kalarus's power, Countess. I'm going to end his ability to continue his rebellion."

"How?"

He shook his head. "That is something I'm keeping to myself for now. Suffice to say that there are greater and subtler matters of furycraft than those such as Kalarus and I prefer not to make widely known. This touches upon such a matter."

"But-"

"Countess," Gaius said quietly. "Are you with me? Or not?"

She grimaced, and glared at the fire. "Of course I am."

"Good. Your only concern is to help me get to Kalare. I won't be able to use any of my own furycraft without alerting Kalarus to my presence-which is to be avoided. I'm going to be relying upon you, Amara, to handle any problems that arise."

Amara felt both her eyebrows go up. "Sire, I'm not incompetent in the field, but it is hardly my forte. I'm not at all sure that I'm the best person for this kind of job."

"I trust you," the First Lord said simply.

She felt a flush of pride and pleasure at the words, but she shook her head. "Then you should trust my advice, sire. I'm not the one you should have with you."

"I should attempt it alone?"

"No," she said, at once, somewhat alarmed. "No, sire. I don't see why you should be trying to do this at all, but if you must do it, there are those better qualified to help you."

"The larger our party is, the more attention it is going to attract."

There was no arguing with that. "But sire..."

"Enough," Gaius said. "Countess, there are very few people in this world who are worthy of trust. Of those who are, not nearly enough of them are on my side. You're one of those few. I trust your loyalty. I trust your skill. I trust your judgment. In my eyes, that makes you one of the only people even remotely qualified for such a task."

"But there's only me, sire," she said. "And I'm not sure I'll be nearly enough. I can only be in one place at one time, have my eyes on one problem at a time. And my crafting skills are not the most advantageous when it comes to this kind of travel."

Gaius set his mug aside and rose. "Ah, now there is a point upon which there can be no argument. But I'm afraid I had very little selection in the matter. There was you-and perhaps one other." The First Lord gave her a brief, sunbeam flicker of a smile, and said, "I'll stretch my legs a bit. We have a little time."

Amara stared after him for a moment, before she suddenly recognized what had felt so familiar about this place. She rose and paced over to the bedroll where she had slept and bent down, lifting the blankets to her nose and inhaling.

The brush rustled gently behind her, and Amara's heart started beating very quickly.

"Good morning," a deep voice rumbled from behind her. "Nice day for a walk."

Amara turned.

A tall, broad-shouldered man came out of the thick forest bearing a pair of freshly caught fish. He was dressed in a forester's brown-green cloak, stone grey tunic, and brown leather breeches. He carried a hunting bow in his left hand, and Amara could see the handle of an axe hanging from a strap over one shoulder. He smiled, teeth flashing, and tossed the bow to one side.

"Bernard," she said, and went to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down to her, and kissed him soundly on the mouth. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her hard against him, returning the kiss with single-minded intensity.

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