Kitai frowned at them for a silent moment, and then spoke suddenly. "They aren't moving. At all."
"They're scarecrows," Tavi said quietly. "Imitations. Only the guards on the outer wall are real."
"Why?" Kitai breathed.
"To put the Legions off their guard," Tavi said quietly- "The scouts would never have gotten this close to the city, to see through it. They'd report back that the city was heavily occupied, and the Legions would count on twenty thousand troops at least being behind the city walls. Under observation. Safely located. Then Nasaug could bring the actual troops in unexpectedly.'
"Nasaug is not planning on fighting a siege, as we thought," Kitai said.
"No. He met us in the field, probably before we could dig in." Tavi shook his head. "Crows, he's good."
Varg growled thoughtfully. "You beat him at ludus?"
Tavi glanced back over his shoulder at Varg. "During a truce to allow him to recover the bodies of his warriors. His game on the skyboard isn't as strong as it could be, and he underestimated me."
"Understandable," Kitai noted. She glanced at Varg. "I was also unimpressed with the Aleran on our first meeting."
Varg glanced at Kitai, and his jaws parted briefly in amusement, his ears quivering in a motion Tavi had never seen in a Cane before.
They fell silent as a group of mounted horsemen approached from the gates of Mastings, riding swiftly. The horses pulled up to a halt only a few feet away from them, and the officer who led the group, presumably a Tribune, judging by his more modern and well-fitting armor, flung himself from his horse, his face already scarlet with rage.
"What have we here?" he demanded. "Some of the scum at last?" He whirled on a man in a centurion's crested helmet and stabbed an accusing finger at the ground directly before Tavi. "Centurion. I want the gallows constructed right here."
Tavi narrowed his eyes, and he traded a glance with Kitai.
The centurion banged his fist to his chest and began giving orders to the Free Aleran riders. The legionares began hurrying about at once, and someone returned with rough lumber within a moment.
Their Cane escort let out a rumbling growl in his throat, watching the angry Tribune with narrowed eyes, but he did not move or speak. Tavi waited a moment before it occurred to him that he was in the same situation with the young warrior Cane as he was with Varg. He'd declared himself the Cane's superior, and any responsibility for acting in a dispute belonged to him.
He nudged his horse forward a few steps, and said, "Excuse me, Tribune. Might I ask what you think you're doing?"
The red-faced Tribune whirled on Tavi in a fury, one hand on his sword. "Centurion!" he bellowed.
"Sir?"
"The next time the condemned speak, you will carry out their executions at once!"
"Sir!"
Tavi met the Tribune's hard eyes for a long moment, but he didn't speak. He glanced aside at Kitai. The Marat girl's expression didn't change, but she shifted position on the driver's bench of the wagon, and reached back to adjust the unconscious Ehren's clothing. Tavi never saw any indication of it, but he was sure she had palmed one of the many knives Ehren habitually secreted about his person.
From the set of his ears, Varg took note of it. He glanced up at the young Cane, whose ears suddenly flattened to his skull.
Tavi suppressed a grimace. If it came to a fight, they'd have no chance, not even if the young warrior and his entire patrol joined in. There were simply too many of the Free Aleran legionares about, and in any normal Aleran Legion, the orders of a Tribune would draw immediate support from every legionare and centurion in sight.
Another rider came galloping up from the city, kicking his horse the entire way, and when the beast arrived it was in a near frenzy. It screamed and reared, hooves lashing, and the rider dropped off, threw off his helmet, and drew his gladius from his belt.
Tavi recognized him immediately, though the last time he had seen Durias, his features hadn't been mottled with rage.
Something was happening here, something more than merely tension during a time of war. There was far too much emotion in the reaction of the Free Alerans, and such things didn't occur for no reason. It didn't bode well for their situation. Men in such an excited state of mind were capable of anything.
Tavi tensed, readying himself to borrow the wind and draw his sword before anyone could stop him-but Durias stalked over to the hard-eyed Tribune, and without a word, fetched him a blow to the face with the back of his empty hand.
The Tribune reeled. Durias lifted his sword and shoved it hard against the Tribune's armored chest, forcing the man to the ground.
"Stand up," Durias snarled, "and I will strike off your useless head, Manus."
The Tribune looked up in a fury. "Centurion. I will have your head for thi-"
Durias leaned back and kicked Tribune Manus in the mouth with the heel of one foot. The man's head snapped back in a sudden spray of broken teeth, and he flopped to the ground, unconscious.
Durias glared at him, then at the nearby centurion. "In his cups again?"
The centurion's mouth twisted in distaste, and he nodded.
"Then get him something harder," Durias said. "If he's too drunk to walk, he'll be too drunk to do something this stupid. Now put the crowbegotten lumber back and get those horses back to the stables."
The centurion nodded and immediately began giving orders that were more or less the precise opposite of those he had just uttered. The legionares collected the unconscious Tribune and carried him off.
The blocky Durias, who looked even blockier dressed in armor than he had in a scout's field clothes, turned and walked over to Tavi, putting his sword away as he came. He nodded to Tavi as he approached. "Captain."
"Durias," Tavi said. "Nice to see you again, all things considered."
The Free Aleran centurion twitched his mouth into a faint smile. "I wish I could say the same. We need to get you away from here."
"Not until I speak to Nasaug," Tavi said.
Durias narrowed his eyes, glancing from Tavi to the wagon and its passengers and back. "You're kidding."
"This doesn't seem the appropriate place for levity," Tavi said. "I need to see him."
"You need to be elsewhere," Durias insisted. "Fortunately, in this case the two aren't exclusive. Nasaug's in the field."
Tavi grimaced as Durias confirmed his guess regarding Nasaug's plans. "I see. Lead the way, then."
"Aye." Durias went back to his horse and swung up without bothering to use the stirrups, hauling himself up purely by the muscles in his chest and arms. He nodded to their Cane escort, and said, "Thank you, Sarsh. I'll take them from here."
The Cane tilted his head casually to one side, and growled, "Watch the one on the horse. He's quicker than he looks."
Durias nodded, frowning, and said, "This way."
They followed Durias away from Mastings and toward the north. Once they were well away from the city walls, Tavi urged his horse up alongside the Free Aleran's. "That was quite a reception committee," he said quietly. "What brought that on?"
Durias glanced aside at Tavi, his expression unreadable. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Not to me," Tavi said. "I've been away awhile."
Durias exhaled through his teeth. "Of course you'd say that," he murmured, almost to himself. He glanced back at the wagon. "That's Varg?"
"I'll speak to Nasaug about that," Tavi said quietly.
Durias shrugged. "Fair enough. Then I'll let Nasaug answer your questions as well."