"I know," Tavi said quietly. "But…"
"That doesn't make it any easier," Araris supplied.
Tavi nodded.
"Do you understand why we did what we did?"
He nodded again. "That doesn't make it much easier, either."
Araris stared out at the waters. Then he pushed away from the railing and padded away. He returned and offered Tavi a flat, rectangular piece of what looked something like very dry bread.
"Ship's crackers," he supplied. "Good for a sour stomach."
Tavi nodded his thanks and gnawed at a corner of the bread. He'd broken stones softer than the stuff, but with enough work he managed to get a few gravelly bits to break off, and they softened in his mouth as he chewed. They tasted a little stale, but his stomach began to feel steadier after only a few mouthfuls.
Between bites, Tavi asked, "What was he like?"
Araris's head turned toward him in the darkness. Tavi could see nothing of his expression-only a glitter from his eyes. Araris stared at him for a time, then turned his face back to the sea. "Arrogant," he said, finally. "Impatient. Short-tempered." His teeth gleamed. "And compassionate. Intelligent. Generous. Fearless." Araris sighed. "Too much so."
Tavi said nothing, waiting.
"Septimus was never satisfied with things the way they were. Everywhere he went, in everything he did, he tried to leave a place better than when he found it. When he saw injustice, he worked to set it right. When he found victims, he offered them succor-then he avenged them. If he sank his teeth into an argument, he'd hold on until he'd won it or it died. I never saw him speak an unkind word to a child, strike a dog, or take spurs to his horse.
"When he fought, it was like a thunderstorm going to war, and I never saw his better with a blade. We would have taken a spear in the heart for him-we, his singulares. We all thought he would become a great First Lord. As great as the original Gaius Primus. He was one of the first Citizens to speak out publicly against slavery, you know."
Tavi shook his head. "I didn't."
"He had a habit of making allies of his enemies," Araris said. "You should have seen the brawls he had with Antillus Raucus at the Academy-but they ended as friends. He had… a kind of grace, about him. He could face a man down without taking his pride. If he'd lived, he would have…" Araris's voice closed off for a moment. He cleared his throat, and said, "Everything would be different."
"If," Tavi said. The word carried far more weight than it should have- bitterness, longing, sadness.
Araris squinted out at the ocean. "And he loved your mother more than air and light. He defied his father's direct command when he wed her. Gaius had other ideas about who would make him a suitable wife."
"Do…" Tavi cleared his throat. "Do you think he would have been… a good father?"
"He would have loved you," Araris said at once. He frowned. "But…"
"He would have been busy making things better?"
Araris was silent for a long time. "Perhaps," he said, the word coming out reluctantly. "Great furies know there was distance enough between him and his own father. But perhaps not. Children can change a man like few other things can."
Araris offered Tavi a flask, and Tavi accepted it. More tepid water, but at least he felt like it would stay down this time.
"Have you given any thought to what we're doing?" Araris asked.
Tavi frowned. "Of course."
Araris shook his head. "I know you've been planning it. You've thought about what we're doing, and how. You've thought about what was to be gained or lost. But I wonder if you've given much consideration to the why of it."
Tavi felt a flash of uncertainty, followed hard by anger. He swallowed both with the next mouthful of water, and said, "Because it's going to save lives."
"It might," Araris said, nodding. "But… I wonder if you have the right to make this choice."
"I'd approach Gaius," Tavi said, "but for whatever reason, he's out of reach. I already tried to contact him via my coin. Ehren, too."
"From what you told me, you already did ask him about seeking a diplomatic solution," Araris said. "And he flatly denied you."
"That was before he knew all the details."
"Which gives you the right to decide policy that's going to have a great many repercussions? Leaving aside the legality of what you're doing, what you're attempting is going to be viewed very badly from a great many directions, even if you're totally successful."
Tavi sighed. "You think I'm overstepping my authority as a Cursor."
"I know you're doing that," Araris replied. "I question whether or not you're overstepping your… new authority."
"What difference does it make?"
"Your claim to that authority is based upon authority derived from the law and from principles of justice," Araris said, his voice quiet and intent. "If you begin your new role by spitting on that law, those principles, you're undermining your own position. Eroding the ethical foundations from which your authority should derive."
Tavi heard himself chuckle quietly. "Believe it or not, I've thought of that."
Araris tilted his head slightly to one side, listening.
"What I learned from Nasaug, and the opportunity that it created, is clearly information of critical importance. It would probably influence Gaius's reasoning very strongly-certainly enough to force him to reconsider his earlier decision. Agreed?"
Araris nodded once.
Tavi turned to face him. "But he's gone. I don't know where he is, or what he's doing, but for the purposes of this crisis, he's been incapacitated. Normally, if that happened, we'd consult with whoever was next in the chain of command-and then that person would make the decision."
Araris made a small, skeptical sound. "That's… quite a shaky foundation."
Tavi half grinned. "I know," he said quietly. "But… if I'm to be what I was meant to be, it means that I have a responsibility to this Realm and its people. And if I don't act, it's going to be a real nightmare." He put a hand on Araris's shoulder. "You ask me how I can possibly justify doing this. But the real question is this: How can I possibly justify doing nothing?"
Araris stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and snorted.
They turned back to stare at the ocean again, and Tavi asked, "I need you. Be honest with me. Are you against this?"
"I was against you rushing in without being sure of your own motives," he replied. "Your father was a good man. But he had a tendency to trust his instincts too much. To act without thinking. He leaned on his power to get him out of any problems that arose."
"Not really an issue with me," Tavi murmured.
Araris laughed quietly. "No. You're stronger than he was." He mused for a moment. "And probably more dangerous."
Tavi hardly knew how to respond to that. He lapsed into silence for another several minutes. Then he asked, "Your opinion. Can we do it?"
Araris replied without hesitation. "I don't see how it's possible."
Tavi grunted and chewed on his lip.
Araris sighed and spoke with reluctance. "But that's never really stopped you before, has it?"
Tavi barked out a short laugh, and he saw Araris smile beside him.
"You should get some sleep," Araris said. "You'll need it. Practice tomorrow."
"Practice?" Tavi asked.
Araris Valerian nodded. "You've got your basics with a sword. You're ready for some serious training."
Tavi blinked. He had thought himself… well. Quite skilled with a blade. "Do you really think that's necessary?"
Araris laughed. "Your father used to ask me the same thing."