“We could win free,” Magnus said stiffly.
“Perhaps. If we broke the truce and our word, betrayed the trust they’ve extended, and attacked them first.” Octavian’s voice hardened slightly. “That isn’t going to happen, Magnus. It could prove every bit as dangerous in the long term.”
“Your Highness-”
Octavian didn’t raise his voice with his anger. In fact, it grew quieter, if sharper and more clearly pronounced. “Enough.”
Marcus lifted his hand, knocked once on the door, and opened it without waiting for a response, as he usually did. His entrance surprised everyone within. They all turned to blink at him.
Marcus saluted. “Your Highness. I overheard your discussion as I approached. If it isn’t too forward of me, sir, may I offer a suggestion?”
Octavian’s eyebrows climbed nearly to his hairline. “Please.”
“Sir, when Varg was at the capital, didn’t he have a bunch of his own honor guards with him? Tokens of his station or some such?”
“Certainly.”
“Seems to me you could claim the same.”
Maximus scowled and shook his head. “The Canim told him that he had to travel alone.”
“An honor guard is appropriate to a man of his station,” Marcus replied. “What are they going to do? Back down because they’re afraid of a few men he takes with him?”
Octavian smiled faintly and pointed a finger at Marcus. “Point. If it was phrased that way, they’d have little choice but to accept it or look like cowards. A few men couldn’t be a threat to the Shuarans.”
Magnus shook his head. “That’s precisely the problem. I’d much rather the Princeps’ bodyguard could annihilate a thousand attackers at least.”
Octavian sat forward in his seat. “I don’t need to annihilate thousands, Magnus. But a few men could fly me out of trouble and back to the ships if they happened to be Knights Aeris. Or hide us and let us travel back hidden behind a veil if they were woodcrafters. I’d say I would need to take as much guile as power. Would you agree, Marcus?”
“In essence,” Marcus said. “Yes, sir. Even if the entire force was with you, sir, we couldn’t fight a country full of Canim and win-but we do have strength enough to take and hold this port for a time, if we must. What you need is a group small enough to avoid alarming the Canim-but with enough muscle to get out of a tight spot and enough finesse and skill to get back here through a hostile countryside if need be.”
Octavian nodded sharply. “That sounds quite reasonable.”
“By what madman’s standard? Reasonable relative to what?” asked Magnus. His voice was dry, but the bitter undertones had gone out of it.
“Suggestions?” Octavian asked, giving Magnus an amused and tolerant glance.
“Me,” Maximus said at once.
“Concur,” Marcus agreed. The big Antillan was an engine of destruction in a fight of any scale.
“Me,” Crassus said a second later.
“Yes,” Magnus said. “You said you’d need finesse as well.”
“I am going,” Kitai stated.
“Lady Ambassador,” Magnus began, “it might be better if-”
“I am going,” Kitai repeated, in exactly the same tone of voice, as she rose and walked over to the cabin’s door. “The Aleran will explain it to you.”
Marcus stepped aside as the Marat woman left the cabin and shut the door behind her.
Octavian shook his head and sighed. “That’s three. Who else, do you think? Radeus? A fast flier might be handy.”
“Durias, sir,” Marcus said, without hesitation.
Octavian arched an eyebrow at the suggestion.
Crassus frowned. “He’s… Isn’t he the First Spear of the Free Aleran Legion?”
Marcus nodded.
“Ridiculous,” Magnus said. “We know almost nothing about the man. He owes nothing to the Realm and has no interest in keeping the Princeps safe. In point of fact, he’s a traitor.”
“Let’s not wave that brush around too wildly, Magnus,” Octavian said. “You never know whom it will stain.”
Marcus found himself smiling faintly, and Octavian answered the expression with one of his own. The young man would think Marcus was smiling about the young Princeps’ actions of the year before, when he had infiltrated the Grey Tower in Alera Imperia and kidnapped Ambassador Varg out from under the noses of the Grey Guard. Let him. Octavian had enough on his mind without burdening him with another bit of unpleasant knowledge.
“Why Durias, First Spear?” Octavian asked.
“He knows the Canim, sir,” Marcus replied. “He worked closely with them, marched beside them, trained with one. He’ll know them better than any of us-even better than you, sir. Know their capabilities in comparison to ours, know their methods, know the way they think. He’ll be better able than almost anyone in the expedition to tell you what the Canim do and do not know about Aleran capabilities, and unless I miss my guess, he’s no slouch with his own earthcrafting or knowledge of fieldcraft.”
The old Cursor stared quietly at Marcus for a long moment before he finally spoke. “The question is,” Magnus said, “whether or not he’ll be willing to share that knowledge with you, my lord. Durias has no love for Alera or her Citizens.”
“Nor would I, had I lived as he did,” Octavian replied. “Alerans enslaved him. Varg’s people freed him from bondage and taught him to fight so that he could protect that freedom. I’d be more than half-willing to let Alera hang, if I’d grown up in the same circumstances.”
“Then I advise you to choose someone else,” Magnus said.
Octavian shook his head. “The First Spear is right, Magnus. Max and Crassus, between them, have all the furycraft anyone could need. Kitai is one of the better scouts and trackers in the Legion. I’d trust her to be able to find her way back to the ship if the Canim blindfolded her and tossed her in a sack for the journey to visit their Warmaster.” He thumped a finger against the side of his head. “What’s more valuable to us now than any number of swords or furies is knowledge-all we can get. Durias has it. We need it. So we need him.”
“And what makes you think he’ll cooperate?” Magnus said.
Octavian smiled. “I did him a good turn once.”
Maximus snorted. “Aye. His nose never did heal up straight from your good turn, either.”
“Leave Durias to me,” the Princeps said, his tone confident. “Magnus, would you see to it that he gets a message. Invite him to come see me at his earliest convenience, please.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Good. Gentlemen, if you would excuse me, I would speak with the First Spear for a moment.”
The others took their leave and departed the cabin, leaving Marcus alone with the Princeps.
“Sir?” Marcus said, once they were alone.
“Sit down, please,” Octavian said, gesturing at the other chair in the cabin.
Marcus pulled up the chair and did so, frowning. “You about to demote me or something, sir?”
Octavian’s mouth turned up into a quick grin. “Something like that. Magnus tells me that you did some excellent work gathering intelligence during the voyage. That you managed to get a look at several of their charts-and that you were the one the Hunters contacted when they wanted to pass information along to us.”
Marcus shrugged. “The Trueblood is their largest vessel, and their flagship. It’s got the most people coming and going, the most traffic, the most activity. I imagine anyone could have done what I did.”
“Nevertheless, you were the one who did it,” Octavian said. “You went beyond anything you could reasonably have been expected to do, Marcus.” He folded his hands and frowned. “And I’m about to ask you to go even further.”