Ehren lifted both hands. "Which is why I'm dressed for the road," he said. "You want me to see how close I can get to Mastings?"
Tavi drew in a deep breath. "Sort of."
Ehren frowned and tilted his head.
"I want you to get to Nasaug," Tavi said.
Ehren burst out in a laugh. It died young, as he watched Tavi's expression. "Oh," he said. "You were serious."
"Yes."
Ehren shook his head. "Your confidence is flattering, but even if I could get close to him, which I don't think I could, I'm not at all sure I could take him. I saw him fight at the Elinarch."
"No, no, crows," Tavi said. "If I wanted him assassinated, I'd do it myself." He paused to consider. "Or possibly send Max and Crassus."
"For you," Ehren said, "that was an uncommonly sensible afterthought."
Tavi grinned at him for a second. "This isn't that kind of mission," Tavi said. He flicked open the leather case on his sword belt and drew out a folded envelope. He offered it to Ehren.
The young man stared at the envelope for a moment and exhaled slowly. "Oh. The other part of the Cursor business." He searched Tavi's face for a moment, and said, quietly, "We're messengers for the First Lord, Tavi. This isn't one of his messages."
"If he didn't want us using our initiative, he shouldn't be so hard to contact," Tavi replied.
Ehren chuckled. "Can't argue there. What is it?"
"A request for a meeting," Tavi said. "Between me and Nasaug."
Ehren exhaled. "That's all?"
"Yes."
"We, uh. We don't really know how they're going to react to an official courier. No one's sent any."
"Don't worry about it," Tavi said. "You wouldn't be official."
"Oh," Ehren said. "Crows."
"You don't have to," Tavi said quietly. "I can find something else for you to-"
"Oh shut up," Ehren said, his voice annoyed, as he took the envelope from Tavi's hand. "You think Nasaug will be willing to talk?"
"If he is," Tavi said, "I think we can expect him to behave in a civilized fashion."
"They haven't exactly been a monolithic culture," Ehren replied. "What if some of the other Canim don't hold with Nasaug's way of thinking?"
"I'd advise you to avoid them," Tavi said.
"You don't ask much, do you?" Ehren flashed Tavi an easy grin and slipped the envelope out of sight beneath his overlarge tunic. "Time limit?"
"Sooner is better, but take what you need to make the approach." Tavi paused, then offered his hand again. Ehren took it, and Tavi said softly, "Be careful, Ehren."
"Can't have you moaning over how guilty you feel for sending me off to my death," Ehren said, and winked at Kitai. "The Ambassador would never forgive me."
"No," Kitai said. She stepped forward and kissed Ehren on the cheek. "I wouldn't. Walk softly."
"I suspect I'll have less to worry about than you. Take care of each other." He nodded to them, turned, and vanished into the trees without ceremony.
Tavi watched him go and bit his lip.
"He knows what he is doing, chala," Kitai said.
"I know."
"He knows the risks."
"I know."
"If this works," she said, "what will you say to Nasaug? What do you hope to accomplish?"
"I don't know," Tavi said quietly. "Yet. But I have to do something."
She stood beside him for a moment, then said, "We should get back."
Tavi took a deep breath and blew it out again. "Right," he said. "Lots to do. And we march at dawn."
Chapter 10
Just as Tavi rose to leave his office for the field, Araris shut the door, and said in a very quiet voice, "I have to talk to you."
There were a hundred details still to take care of, and they formed a precise, clear list in the young commander's mind. Tavi buckled on his sword belt as he mentally ordered the list, and reached for his cloak. "Fine. We can talk on the road."
"No," the singulare said quietly.
Tavi threw the cloak around his shoulders. "The Senator isn't going to appreciate it if we hold him up. Let's move."
Araris looked steadily at Tavi for a second. Then he locked the door, folded his arms, and leaned back against it. "The Senator," he said, "can wait."
Tavi drew up short and stared at the older man until he had managed to shake the list out of the forefront of his thoughts. He studied Araris for a minute, taking in his wary posture, his obvious tension. Tavi concentrated for a moment and was able to feel a vague sense of unease tinting an iron shell of resolve.
"Oh," Tavi said quietly. "This talk."
Araris nodded. "It's time."
Boots thudded dully on the floors overhead, probably the Subtribunes Lo-gistica moving the Legion's treasury chest along with two full spears of guards.
"Why now?"
Araris nodded up at the world above. "Because you're leaving on campaign. There's always the possibility that you might not come back from it. And because you're a grown man, Tavi. Because rumors are spreading, and you've got to be ready. You need to know. You deserve to know."
Tavi felt a flash of old, hot frustration flare through him, but he pushed it back. "I'm listening."
Araris nodded. "There's a lot. Tell me what you've already worked out."
Tavi took a deep breath. "I know," he said, "that you were a singulare to the Princeps Gaius Septimus. I know that he died at the First Battle of Calderon twenty-two years ago. His singulares were thought to have died with him. They were buried with him at the Princeps Memorium back in Calderon.
"I know," Tavi continued, "that you pledged your loyalty to me. That Gaius didn't seem to care for that, but that he kept you close to me for years."
Araris nodded. "All true."
"I know that Aunt Isana doesn't talk about my mother much. Neither does Uncle Bernard." Tavi glanced down. "The only thing they've ever said about my father is that he was a soldier." He tried not to let it happen, but his voice turned bitter. "Which means I'm just a legionare's bastard. There are plenty of those around."
Araris looked up sharply. "Bastard? No. No, your parents were wed, Tavi."
Tavi felt his heart begin to speed up. He'd spent a lifetime knowing almost nothing about his mother and father. No one had ever been willing to speak of them in anything but the vaguest terms. Tavi barely trusted himself to speak. "You… you knew them?"
Araris's eyes grew distant for a moment. "Oh, yes," he said quietly. "Very well."
"How-" Tavi began, but his throat clenched shut. "Who… What did
Araris held up a hand. "First," he said, "I must tell you this. I did not want to be the one to speak. That duty by rights belonged to Isana. But she…" He shook his head. "When someone goes through as much grief and loss as she did, in such a short amount of time, it can leave wounds as surely as any sword. You can recover from some wounds. But sometimes they're lasting. Crippling. And the best you can hope for is to survive them."
"I don't understand," Tavi said.
"Isana… doesn't think very clearly where you are concerned. Not about this. She loves you desperately, Tavi."
Tavi chewed on his lip and nodded. "I know."
"She's terrified of losing you. It clouds her judgment, I think. Her resolve. I believe that she wanted to tell you the truth long before now. But she'd kept it locked up so tightly, for so long, I'm not sure she knew how to let it out again."