"Assuming there are only two, milord."
Gaius's eyes wrinkled further, at the corners. "Yes. Assuming all of them aren't in it together, eh?" The brief smile faded. "And that they wished details of my inner chambers from you seems to indicate that they believe they could accomplish an assassination, and so take power directly."
"Surely not, milord. They could not kill you."
Gaius shrugged. "Not if I saw it coming. But the power to shake mountains does little good if the knife is already buried in one's throat." He grimaced. "One of the younger High Lords. It must be. Anyone of any age would simply use Time as his assassin. I am an old man."
"No, Your Majesty. You are-"
"An old man. An old man married to a willful and politically convenient child. An old man who rarely sleeps at night and who needs to be on time to dinner." He eyed Amara up and down and said, "Night is falling. Are you in condition to travel?"
"I believe so, milord."
Gaius nodded. "Events are stirring all over Alera. I can feel it in my bones, girl. The march of feet, the restless migration of beasts. Already the behemoths sing in the darkness off the western coast, and the wild furies of the north country are preparing a cold winter this year. A cold winter…" The First Lord drew in a breath and closed his eyes. "And voices speak loudly. Tension gathers in one place. The furies of earth and air and wood whisper everywhere that something dangerous is abroad and that the peace our land has enjoyed these past fifteen years nears its end. Metal furies hone the edges of swords and startle smiths at the forge. The rivers and the rains wait for when they shall run red with blood. And fire itself burns green of a night, or blue, rather than in scarlet and gold. Change is coming."
Amara swallowed. "Perhaps they are only coincidences, milord. They may not be-"
Gaius smiled again, but the expression was skeletal, wasted. "I'm not that old, Amara. Not yet. And I have work for you. Attend."
Amara nodded and focused on the image.
"Are you familiar with the significance of the Calderon Valley?"
Amara nodded once. "It lies just over the isthmus between Alera and the plains beyond. There is only one pass through the mountains, and it runs through the valley. If anyone wants to come into our lands afoot, they must come through Calderon Valley."
"Anyone meaning the Marat, of course," Gaius said. "What else do you know of the place?"
"What they taught at the Academy, milord. Very fertile land. Profitable. And it was where the Marat killed your son, milord."
'Yes. The Marat hordemaster. He killed the Princeps and set a chain of
events into motion that will clutter the lecture halls and plague the students for a century to come. The House of Gaius has led Alera for nearly a thousand years, but when I am gone, that will be done. All that is left to me is to see to it that the power falls into responsible hands. And it would seem that someone seeks to make that choice in my stead."
"Do you know who, milord?"
"Suspicions," Gaius said. "But I dare not voice more than that, lest I accuse an innocent man and lose the support of the High Lords altogether, loyal and insurgent alike. You will go to the Calderon Valley, Amara. The Marat are on the move. I know it. I feel it."
"What do you wish me to do there, milord?"
"You will observe the movements of any Marat in the area," Gaius said. "And speak to the Steadholders there, to learn what passes."
Amara tilted her head to one side. "You suspect that the Marat and the recent insurgent activity are related, milord?"
"The Marat are easily made into tools, Amara. And I suspect that someone has forged a dagger of them to thrust at my heart." His eyes flashed, and the river rippled around the feet of the water image, in reaction to the emotion. "I may pass on my power to someone of worth, but while I live and breathe they will not take it from me."
"Yes, milord."
Gaius gave her a grim smile. "If you should stumble over some connection between the two, Amara, bring it to me. If I had a scrap of proof to lay before the High Lords, I could settle this without needless bloodshed."
"As you wish, milord. I will go there as swiftly as I am able."
"Tonight," Gaius said.
Amara shook her head. "I'm not sure I can do that, Majesty. I'm exhausted."
Gaius nodded. "I will speak to the south wind. It will help you get there more quickly."
Amara swallowed. "What am I to look for, milord? Do you have any suspicions? If I know what to be on watch for…"
Gaius said, "No. I need your eyes open and unprejudiced. Get to the Valley. It is where events are centering. I want you representing my interests in them."
"Am I likely to face near-certain death again, milord?" Amara let just a hint of barb slide into the words.
Gaius tilted his head. "Almost certainly, Cursor. Do you wish me to send another in your place?"
Amara shook her head. "I wish for you to answer a question."
Gaius lifted his eyebrows. "What is your question?"
Amara looked steadily at Gaius's image. "How did you know, milord? How did you know I would remain true to the Crown?"
Gaius frowned, more lines appearing on his face. He remained silent for a long moment, before he said, "There are some people who will never understand what loyalty means. They could tell you what it was, of course, but they will never know. They will never see it from the inside. They couldn't imagine a world where something like that was real."
"Like Fidelias."
"Like Fidelias," Gaius agreed. "You're a rare person, though, Amara. You're just the opposite."
She frowned. "You mean, I know what loyalty is?"
"More than that. You live within it. You couldn't imagine a world in which you didn't. You could no more betray what you held dear than you could will your heart to stop beating. I am old, Amara. And people reveal themselves to me." He was quiet for a moment more, and said, "I never doubted your loyalty. Only your ability to survive the mission. And it appears that I may owe you an apology, on that count, Cursor Amara. Consider your graduation exercise a success."
Amara felt pride stir in her, an absurd feeling of pleasure that Gaius would praise her so. She felt her back straighten and her chin lift a little higher. "I am your eyes and ears to command, milord."
Gaius nodded, once, and behind Amara the wind began to rise, rustling over the trees like surf over sand, making them whisper and sigh in a vast, quiet chorus. "Go with the furies then, Cursor. For Alera."
"I will find what you need, Your Majesty. For Alera."
Chapter 7
Fidelias hated flying.
He sat on the litter, facing ahead, so that the wind sliced into his eyes and blew his hair straight back from his high forehead. On the seat facing him sat Aldrick the Sword, huge and relaxed as a newly fed lion. Odiana had curled up on Aldrick's lap to doze off hours before, and the water witch's dark hair danced and played in the wind, veiling the beauty of her features. Neither one evinced any signs of discomfort at the flight, physical or otherwise.
"I hate flying," Fidelias muttered. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the wind, and leaned over the edge of the litter. A brilliant moon, looming large among a sea of stars, painted the landscape below in silver and black. Wooded hills rolled slowly beneath them, a solid darkness, broken here and there by silver-kissed clearings and winding, half-luminescent rivers.
Four of the Knights Aeris from the camp bore them through the air, one at each pole of the litter. They wore harnesses that fitted them to the litter, supporting the weight of the three people inside, while the Knights' weight, in turn, was borne by the powerful furies at their command. Another half-dozen Knights Aeris flew in a loose ring around the litter, and moonlight glittered on the steel of their arms and armor.