Tavi lost no time shedding his uniform and donning the unremarkable civilian's clothing. "Any problems?"
"Not yet," Ehren said. He shook a rather large, rather heavy-looking purse at his side. It jingled. "I wouldn't have thought Cyril had this kind of money."
"Merchant family. They have a lot of connections in the Senate." Tavi finished dressing, paused for a moment to consider, and then laid his uniform clothes out on the bunk, positioned as they would be if he had been sleeping in them. "There."
Ehren snorted. "That ought to make for an interesting rumor or two."
Tavi grinned. "Can't hurt. What about the guard?"
Ehren tapped the purse again. "Two of the girls who used to work for Mistress
Cymnea have him pretty thoroughly distracted. We could smash our way through the wall with mining picks, and he wouldn't notice."
Tavi let out a small sigh of relief. "Good. I didn't want anyone to get hurt over this."
"The night is young," Ehren said.
Once Tavi was dressed, Ehren tossed him a long, dark cloak with a deep hood, similar to his own. They pulled the hoods up and left the cell. Ehren locked it behind them. They left the command building by the back door and hurried away through the darkened streets.
"How long before the wind coach arrives?" Tavi asked.
Ehren grimaced. "There's a problem."
Tavi arched an eyebrow.
"Windcrafters were expensive and hard to find even before the war," Ehren said. "Legions all over Alera have been offering incentives to recruit more of them. All the fliers who haven't gone into the Legions are overworked already, even with their prices raised through the roof."
"I don't care what it costs. We need a coach."
"We aren't getting one," Ehren said. "We're in the middle of nowhere. None of the coaches are willing to fly all the way out to a war zone with empty seats."
"Crows," Tavi spat. "Where are we headed?"
"The docks," Ehren replied. "The others are waiting there."
Tavi stopped and blinked at Ehren. "A ship? We'll have to sail halfway around the coast to get to the Gaul."
Ehren shrugged. "Beggars and choosers. It will take even longer to walk it."
Tavi sighed. They walked down one of the many wooden staircases that led down the riverbank to the extensive docks that lined both sides of the river. Taverns and warehouses lined the waterside, and if the Legions had departed, the traders and rivermen hadn't. The docks were as busy as any other night, and Tavi and Ehren had no trouble blending in.
Ehren led them to one of the larger docks, and out along it to its lone occupant, a lean and ill-favored ship conspicuous for its lack of furylamps-and passersby. No one but themselves seemed willing to pace down its wooden length, and Tavi was just as glad. In the darkness, Tavi could just barely make out the letters on the ship's prow proclaiming it the Slive.
Several cloaked figures waited at the bottom of the gangplank, and one of them broke away from the others to walk toward Tavi.
"Chala," Kitai said quietly, and embraced him. "I missed you. You are well?"
Tavi kissed her hair. "I'm fine."
His mother was close behind Kitai. She gave him a smile and an uncertain nod. Tavi released the Marat woman and went to Isana, hugging her.
Tavi felt a sudden sense of relief surge through her. She hugged him back, hard.
"Well have some time. We'll talk," he said quietly.
She nodded, not speaking, and they broke the embrace.
Araris stepped forward from the shadows and nodded to Tavi. He offered Tavi his sword belt, and Tavi accepted it gratefully, glad to feel the familiar weight of the weapon once more at his side. Araris, his eyes in constant motion, moved silently to stand behind Tavi, watching the length of the dock between them and the shore.
"Captain," Ehren called quietly. "We're ready."
A man appeared at the head of the gangplank and walked quietly down it. He was a little taller than average and lean, and wore a long blade at his hip. He stepped onto the dock and stopped when he was standing just out of reach of Tavi's gladius-but within the range of his own weapon. He had a flat, cool mask of a face and the guarded, calculating eyes of a professional swordsman.
"This is Captain Demos," Ehren said. "He was the man who got me back to Alera in time to warn you of the Canim fleet."
Demos nodded to Tavi. "Who are you?"
"Rufus Scipio," Tavi replied.
Demos blinked once and shrugged. "All right. Ehren here tells me you have a job."
"I need passage to the capital and back. I need to move some goods discreetly. Can you do it?"
Demos shrugged. "Probably. If the price is right."
"Let's talk price, then," Tavi said.
"I don't haggle," Demos replied. "You pay it. Or you find someone else."
Tavi studied the man quietly for a moment. Then he shrugged. "How much?"
"Five hundred eagles," Demos replied. "That's just the transport fee. The bribes are an extra expense. So is the food. You pay me half up front, half on completion."
Tavi glanced aside at Ehren, who nodded once.
"Done," Tavi said.
Demos looked between the two of them, then at the others. "Get this straight. You might be hiring me, but I'm the captain on my ship. I don't take orders. I give them. If I give you an order, I expect you to obey it, or you'll swim the rest of the way."
"I understand," Tavi said.
"Still want to do business?"
Tavi held out his hand to Ehren. The Cursor slapped the heavy purse into it. Tavi tossed the purse to Demos, who plucked it out of the air with a lazy movement of his arm.
Demos bounced the purse on his palm once and nodded. His face twitched with an expression that, if it had not been murdered in its birth, might have grown into a smile. "Very well, sir. Welcome aboard the Slive. We'll cast off in half an hour." He turned and went back up onto his ship and started calling out commands. Men began moving around the deck, readying ropes and sails.
Tavi grimaced at the ship. "Ehren."
The young Cursor nodded and raised his hand, while a frown of concentration came over his face. The air pressed suddenly against Tavi's ears, more uncomfortable than painful.
"All right," Ehren said. "That's as much as I can do."
Tavi nodded. "How long will it take us to get there by ship?"
"Three weeks, give or take," Ehren said quietly.
"Too long," Tavi said.
"I don't think you thought this through very well," Ehren said. "Let's say we had a coach right now. What did you plan on doing? Telling them to fly up to the Grey Tower, wait until you got back with a nine-foot-tall furry prisoner, then to come back here? Every Knight Aeris who can get off the ground will come after the coach to get him back."
"What?" Kitai demanded.
"What?" Isana said, alarmed.
Araris made a choking noise, but he didn't turn around.
Tavi grimaced. "We couldn't outrun them on horseback, either."
"Right," Ehren said. "If only we knew some way to sneak a high-profile Cane out of the capital without being caught."
Tavi gave him a sidelong glance. Ehren's face was creased into a grin. Tavi frowned for a moment, then struck his own forehead lightly with the heel of his hand. "It's already been done. Someone managed to slip Sari out of the capital and all the way back to the Canim homelands."