They all sat down. Cyril settled in to listen to Tavi, one elbow on the desk, his fist supporting his chin. "This should be interesting."
Tavi leaned back in his chair and somehow managed to look lazily confident even while in a relaxed slouch, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Then he started talking.
It didn't take Isana long to realize that Tavi was saying more than he probably should have about the motivations and twisted loyalties behind the events of the past several days-which is to say that he was being completely open and honest.
"Let me get this straight," Cyril said, when Tavi paused for breath. "After Amos lost many of his own Knights Aeris, precisely as we warned him he would, you then bailed his men out of the trouble he'd bought them."
"You should have heard what was going around the Guard camps before I left," Tavi said, with another grin. Isana had never seen the expression on Tavi's face, but it had been common enough on his father's. Septimus had grinned at frustration and pain, too. "According to the Guard, I waited overly long to help, so that I could play the hero and rub their noses in their inexperience."
Cyril snorted. "Arnos has always known how to play a crowd. After you did that, he ordered you to execute the prisoners. You refused the order, and he had you arrested."
"Not exactly," Tavi said. "I was still stalling carrying the order out. I, ah, had the opportunity for a rendezvous with a representative from the Canim. Arnos caught me after and leveled the treason charges. He refused to rescind the execution order, by the way."
"Executing civilians? Families?" Isana heard herself say. "What kind of madness is that?"
"An increasingly common one, unfortunately," Cyril said soberly. "All this ambition being brewed with self-interest under increasing amounts of pressure." He shook his head and turned back to Tavi. "I assume he was holding them against your good behavior."
Tavi's smile turned sharper. "Yes. Though I found a way to make sure he'd leave them alone."
Cyril tilted his head. "How?"
"I left Crassus in command of the Legion," Tavi said, smirking.
Cyril arched both eyebrows, then leaned his head back to laugh, a short, genuine sound. "That would do it."
"Excuse me," Isana said quietly. "Do what?"
"Crassus's father is High Lord Antillus Raucus," Tavi said, still grinning. "His mother is High Lord Kalarus's youngest sister. Once the fighting is done, Crassus may well be declared Kalarus's heir. He already is Antillus's heir. If Arnos ordered him to execute the prisoners, and he refused-"
"Which he would," Cyril said.
Tavi nodded. "-Arnos would have little choice but to press charges against Crassus, if he wanted to maintain the integrity of his charges against me."
"Ah," Isana said, nodding. "And given Crassus's family connections and what will probably be a very influential future, it would be stupid for Arnos to make an enemy of him now."
"Oh, he's stupid enough to do it," Tavi said, "but there's also the fact that if Arnos played that game on the son and heir of Antillus Raucus, the patronage of the Aquitaines wouldn't stop Lord Antillus for a second. He would call Arnos out to the juris macto and scatter the leftover pieces all over Alera."
"Only if the old man beat Maximus to it," Cyril noted.
Tavi grinned. "Crows, yes. Max would love an excuse to call Arnos out. Defending the honor of his family and father would be undeniable."
"I'm surprised Arnos let you talk to your officers," Cyril said. "It's not the kind of mistake I'd expect of him."
"He didn't," Tavi said. "Max and about seven hundred veterans were in a position to dispute the legitimacy of my arrest."
"What?" Cyril just stared at Tavi for a second, his face going white. Isana sensed the horror boiling up out of him like some kind of greasy black vapor. Then he shook his head slowly. "Seven hundred…" He blew out a slow breath. "That was exactly the kind of situation the Crown wished us to avoid."
Tavi grimaced. "I know. I talked Arnos into letting Nalus handle my arrest in exchange for ordering them to stand down."
Cyril mopped a hand over his face. "Nalus," he said, distantly. "No wonder his letter was so awkward. Decent man. Not terribly intelligent, but I've always thought well of him."
"He asked me to give him my word that I wasn't going to order my men to get me out or refuse to support the campaign. I gave it, and he let me meet with them."
Cyril frowned hard at Tavi, and Isana could feel the anger in it, mixed with a certain admiration. "And your orders to them?"
Tavi blinked, lifting his eyebrows in faint surprise. "To support the campaign, of course. To do everything they could to preserve the lives of Alerans and secure the Realm against the invaders."
Cyril let out a slow breath, sagging a little at the table, and his relief flooded through the room. "Thank the great furies. There's that much, at least."
Tavi grimaced. "Arnos is planning a campaign of numbers. He's tallied every life to be sacrificed."
Cyril grimaced. "Yes. I suspected as much. Can he win?"
Tavi shrugged. "I think Nasaug does his math a bit differently. Othos was a bloody mess, and at a bargain for the Canim." Tavi's voice lowered, and his smile vanished. "I've got to stop him, Cyril."
Cyril looked from Tavi to Isana, frowning. The room was quiet for several seconds.
"Someone needs to," Cyril agreed. "But there are two problems. First, you aren't going to stop him from doing much of anything from inside the stockade. Second, I don't see any feasible way of doing so, even if you weren't."
Tavi took a deep breath. "I think I might know a way," he said.
Cyril nodded. "This meeting you had with a representative, I expect. What does Nasaug want?"
"Can't tell you," Tavi said. "Safer for both of us."
Cyril leaned back in his chair and put both hands flat on his desk. "You want me to release you."
"Yes."
"I can't do that."
"Yes, you can," Tavi said. "Cyril, if this works, it has the potential to end the fighting entirely. I think those three Legions would do a lot more good flanking Kalarus than running around in circles in the Vale."
"It's a treason charge," Cyril said quietly. "If I release you before you've faced a tribunal, it's a death sentence for me as welclass="underline" to say nothing of the fact that any irregularity would practically guarantee your conviction."
Tavi made a clicking sound with his teeth. "There's always-"
Cyril cut him off with a wave of his hand and exhaled through his nose. "All right," he said quietly. "This has gone badly, but it could have been worse. The next thing to focus on is making sure the Legions' supply lines are kept secure. Then we'll turn some attention to your trial defense."
Tavi shook his head. "We don't have time. There's too much at stake."
"Yes," Cyril responded, rather sharply. "But you've been outmaneuvered. You're of no use to the Crown, now."
"I could be," Tavi said quietly. "Let me arrange something. None of the blame will come to you."
Cyril began shaking his head. "Scipio-I am a soldier, and a servant of the Crown. I always have been. And at this moment, the Crown's law says that you are to remain in custody until a tribunal can be assembled. We've worked well together, the past two years. We know one another. We've each earned a certain amount of the other's trust." He gave Isana a quite pointed glance and looked back at Tavi. "But by now you ought to know where I draw the line."