Amara lifted her head suddenly to stare intently into her husband's face. "Just as he knew that once we were back together, I would be too distracted by you to ask too many questions." She felt a wry smile twist her mouth. "Until it was too late to change our minds, I suppose."
Bernard frowned, and squinted back toward where Gaius sat, and said, "We're not going a step farther until I know exactly what we're walking into."
Amara frowned in thought for a moment, and spoke slowly. "I suppose my duty would be to oppose you putting an end to this mission. Strictly speaking."
"You did that once before," Bernard replied, his eyes brightening with brief amusement. "You'll recall how it worked out." His expression grew more serious. "You couldn't stop me from compromising us, Amara. And without using furycraft, I doubt he could do it, either. Even if he could walk right now."
Amara nodded slowly, "Just as well, perhaps."
"Oh?"
"It gives us a lever to use on him." She glanced back at the First Lord. "He keeps secrets purely as a reflex action, these days. I can't serve or protect him if I'm kept blind and wandering in the dark. But…"
Bernard found her hand with his, and squeezed gently. "But what?"
She felt her lips tighten. "It just doesn't feel right. So many have turned against him. Fidelias…"
Tears filled her eyes in approximate tempo with a surge of heated anger, as she thought of her treacherous mentor, and it became impossible to speak.
"It isn't the same, love," he told her quietly. "You're trying to protect him and using your best judgment. It isn't the same thing at all."
"I hope you're right," she said quietly. She shook her head, blinking the tears away before they could fall. Then she nodded once, composed herself, and strode back over to Gaius, Bernard in step beside her.
The First Lord looked back and forth between their expressions, then said, "Ah."
Amara came to a stop before him, and knelt down to put her eyes more or less on level with his own. "Sire, Count Calderon…"
He lifted a hand with a little, impatient wave, and glanced at Bernard. "We're not walking another mile until you know what we're getting into? Something like that?"
Bernard snorted through his nose. "Not another step, actually, sire."
Gaius winced, shifting one of his legs. "Is it that bad?"
Bernard approached as well, kneeling down and brushing away a layer of forest detritus with one hand, revealing a number of small white-and-pink crystals. He dropped them into the pan and began swirling the water as he spoke. "Without proper watercrafting? It has the potential to be very bad, sire, yes."
Gaius made a disgusted noise. "I suppose I'd be a fool to bring along an expert woodsman only to ignore his advice."
Bernard's mouth quirked up at one corner. "I'd never say that, sire."
Gaius's teeth flashed white for a moment. "Not in so many words, anyway, eh?" He studied his own raw and bloodied feet. "Your recommendation involves my crafting the injuries away, I take it."
"Or flying to someone who can," Bernard said.
"What are my chances if I don't?"
"If we're in time to prevent any infection, I can probably take care of it on my own. If we're too late…" He shrugged. "You'll sicken, take a fever, and eventually die. Our best hope is that you will retain the ability to rectify the problem on your own before the fever takes you too far to sustain such a crafting."
"Which would compromise our mission," Gaius said quietly. "Rendering it an unacceptable option."
"Sire," Amara said. "Your untimely death would be no more acceptable."
The First Lord glanced at her. "Untimely? Yes. But that seems rather unavoidable at this point." He wiggled the toes of one foot and winced. "No infection has set in as yet. I believe our best option is to maintain a positive frame of mind and proceed."
"It's a very real risk, sire," Bernard said, and there was nothing subservient in his voice. "What could possibly be so important that it warrants such a risk to yourself and to the Realm?"
Gaius frowned at Bernard. Then he tilted his head, brow furrowed. "Well, this is an interesting iteration of the ludus board. A Steadholder with more power than a paired Cursor and First Lord. I can't stop you from acting without revealing myself, and I am not at all certain that Amara could do it, either."
Bernard nodded. "I've got you by the balls, sire."
Gaius, now leaning up on his elbows, let his head fall back with a brief, tense laugh. "So it would seem. Very well. We will speak of my purpose-after which, we will proceed at our best pace."
Bernard frowned. "I can't promise that."
"We will," Gaius said, and there was a cold flicker at the back of his eyes. "This is necessary, Count. It will be done." His voice went quiet. "And as formidable as you are in your current position-yet do I advise you not to test me."
Bernard's hands froze for a moment, as he crumbled some kind of herb into the salted water in the pot. It was the only sign of his discomfort. "I can only promise that I will act on my conscience."
"Well enough," Gaius replied. With Bernard's help, he returned to his seat upon the camp stool and slipped his battered feet into the pot. He let out a hiss of pain and shuddered a few times, but then his breathing steadied. A moment later, he opened his eyes, and Amara pressed a cup of bitter willow tea into his hands. He nodded his thanks to her. "This touches upon your last visit to Kalare, actually."
Amara lifted an eyebrow. "In what way? Not for familiarity, I am sure. We only covered the last few miles on the ground."
"Similar motivation," the First Lord said. "You remember the necessity for bringing Lady Placida back whole and unharmed?"
Amara nodded. "There are several dangerous furies back in her lands that are held in check by her will. Had she died, they would have been loosed on her people."
"Precisely," Gaius said. "And Kalarus, whom I will never fault for lack of ambition, has done something almost as brilliant as it is insane-he's intentionally stirred up furies of terrible power of his own and bound them to his will in the same way."
Amara took in a deep breath. "He hopes to preserve his life?"
"Not at all," Gaius said in a sober tone. "He's too proud to suffer through imprisonment, and he knows that we could assume control of those furies once he was taken away and we had time to work. His goal is much simpler, Countess. He hopes to drag as many lives as possible into the underworld with him- preferably including my own."
Bernard scratched at his beard, frowning. "Sire… what kind of furies are you talking about here?"
Gaius took a slow breath, and said, "One of the Great Furies, Count."
Amara frowned. "Great furies… what… I mean, there are actually…?"
Gaius's mouth gained an edge of grim amusement. "You think we swear by them simply for show? No. They exist, the Great Furies. A dozen or so that I'm aware of. Creatures so old and vast that our entire existence upon this world, a thousand years of growth and strife, is less than the span of an eyeblink to them."
Bernard's frown deepened as he took a clean cloth and began washing the First Lord's feet as gently as he could. "And Kalarus can control this thing?"
"Not even remotely," Gaius said. "But he can annoy it, arousing its wrath- and he can delay its response for a time. When he ceases to do so, Kalus will spend his wrath upon anyone it meets."