Sir Ehren’s reaction was a complete nonreaction. He simply stared at her for a moment. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “She’s been… bloody crows.” The voice that emerged from the young man was a great deal more strident—and frustrated—than she would have expected to accompany his face and bearing. “Abducted. Of course she has been. Because obviously there isn’t enough going wrong tonight.” He glared at her. He had a rather effective glare, Amara thought, despite the muddy hazel color of his eyes and the fact that he stood nearly half a foot shorter than she did and was thus compelled to glare up at her. She had to make a conscious effort not to take a step back. Veradis did step back from him. “And I suppose,” he said, “you want me to help.”
Amara faced the young man mildly. “You… do seem to be having that sort of evening, Sir Ehren.”
“Crows,” he said wearily. The word betrayed a wealth of exhaustion. He hid it well, but Amara could see the signs of strain on his young face. If he’d been any older, she suspected, the past weeks would have aged him ten years. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. The change in the young man was nearly magical. His expression became mild again, his posture diffident, nearly servile. “I’m not sure how you could trust anything I did to help you, Countess.”
“She couldn’t,” Veradis said quietly, and took a step closer to the young man, extending her hand. “But I could.”
Ehren eyed Veradis. A skilled watercrafter’s ability to sense the truth in another, when it was freely shared, was the bane of all manner of deceptive enterprise—and if trusted too casually, was a wellspring of fresh deceptions in its own right. As someone who had spent years becoming skilled in that particular expertise, he probably regarded it with almost as much distrust and wariness as Amara did.
“How could this possibly harm the Realm, Cursor?” Veradis asked, smiling slightly.
Ehren warily took her hand. “Very well.”
“One question,” Veradis said quietly. “Whom do you serve?”
“The Realm and people of Alera, and the House of Gaius,” Ehren replied promptly. “In that order.”
Veradis listened with her head tilted slightly to one side. As the young man spoke, she shivered slightly, withdrew her hand, and nodded to Amara.
“I note,” Amara said drily, “that your choice of loyalties, Cursor, is not quite the Academy standard.”
Ehren’s mild eyes flickered with something hard, and he began to say something but seemed to think better of it. Then he said, “One should bear in mind that at the moment, there are two scions of the House of Gaius in the Realm. I’m working with the one that’s actually here.”
Amara nodded. “Isana was taken from—”
“I know where she was staying,” Ehren said. “And I know the security precautions protecting her. I designed them.”
Amara arched an eyebrow. If that was the case, then it seemed likely that Ehren was serving as Aquitaine’s de facto minister of intelligence. That he was, in effect, the spymaster of what remained of the entire Realm.
He watched her reaction and grimaced. “Gaius sent me to Aquitaine with his last letters. In them, he commanded me to serve him to the best of my conscience, or to inform him that I could not do so and depart, and to do him no harm. And he recommended me to Aquitaine as the most trustworthy Cursor he could pass on, at the moment.”
Amara felt a small pang in her chest at that.
But then, Gaius hadn’t been able to trust her. She’d walked out on her oath. With good reason, perhaps, but the fact remained that she had turned away from his service.
“The same went for Sextus’s physician, by the way,” Ehren said. “Not as though Aquitaine needs one, but you never know. He’s around here somewhere…” The young man shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m wandering. Too many things going on.” He scrunched up his eyes, and said, “Right. The First Lady. The attack had to be aerial. Any other approach would have garnered too much of a reaction from the furies protecting the inn.”
“How could they have done it at all?” Veradis asked.
“We don’t have unlimited furypower at our disposal,” Ehren said, his voice carrying a slight edge. “The enemy has furycraft, too. We thus have a finite number of secure furies. Many of them had been diverted to protect the majority of the political and military resources of the Realm, which were at the Senate meeting.”
“What are the odds they could have brought the First Lady down anywhere inside the city or encampment without being seen?” Amara asked.
“Bad,” Ehren replied frankly. “She’s been everywhere since the capital. Helped a lot of people. She’s better known on sight among the populace than Sextus ever was.” He sighed and faced Amara squarely. “Aquitaine wasn’t behind it. He couldn’t have done it without me finding out.”
Amara grimaced. “You’re sure?”
“Very.”
“Then it was the enemy,” Amara said.
“It seems likely,” Ehren said. “We know that the vord Queen still controls a cadre of skilled Knights Aeris and Citizens.”
“If the vord have her… if they flew out, they could be miles from here by now,” Veradis breathed.
“Aquitaine is occupied,” Amara said. “And the temptation for him to remain occupied is going to be great.”
Ehren tilted his head to one side, a gesture of allowance, while spreading the fingers of one hand. He looked torn.
“Help us,” Amara said.
“There is a lot more at stake here than one woman’s life,” Ehren replied quietly.
“Cursor,” Amara said, “you learned from my example that it was wrong to blindly follow a First Lord. That you could find yourself used. So it is time to ask yourself whether you serve the Realm first—or the people who are the Realm. Gaius Isana was Steadholder Isana first. And freeman Isana before that.” She smiled tightly, and delivered the next sentence flat, without the coating of gentleness that would have made it slide home like a well-honed knife. “And she was your friend’s mother before that.”
Ehren gave her a sour look but leavened it with a nod of thanks, that she hadn’t driven that last home in the properly manipulative Academy fashion.
“Aquitaine has all that remains of the Realm to stand with him tonight,” Veradis said. “Who does the First Lady have?”
Ehren tapped a toe several times on the ground and nodded once, sharply. “Come with me.”
They followed him as he started through the encampment, moving at a quick walk. “Where are we going?” Amara asked.
“Every scrap of battlecraft we have is being focused right now,” Ehren said. “There’s a force of better than five hundred thousand vord closing on us. They’ll reach the defenses within the hour.”
“How did they get here so swiftly?”
“We’re not sure,” Ehren said. “But logic suggests that they repaired the severed causeways.”
“What?” Veradis demanded. “Could they possibly have done that in the time they’ve had? It would take our own engineers months, maybe years.”
“The work isn’t complicated,” Ehren said. “Just heavy and repetitive. If they had enough gifted earthcrafters focused on the task it could be done relatively quickly. The causeways weren’t built by Citizen-level skills. For healing over the cuts, a powerful Citizen with the proper knowledge could theoretically repair several miles a day.”