Princeps' fury by Jim Butcher Page A

living Aleran had caused to manifest. It is a subtle but important distinction. At that time the Vord could only make any use of furycraft if Alerans engaged in its use first.” Gaius sighed. “It seems that this is no longer the case.”

    Bernard drew in a short, sharp breath. “The Vord are manifesting furies independently?”

    Gaius nodded, swirling his cup in a slow circle. “Multiple reports confirm it. Sir Ehren saw it with his own eyes.”

    “Why?” Amara demanded, surprising herself with how harsh and rough her voice sounded. “Why aren’t you telling them?”

    Gaius’s eyes narrowed. He was silent for several long seconds before answering. “Because news of such a thing would frighten the Citizens of Alera into a unity of purpose they could otherwise never achieve.”

    Bernard cleared his throat. “I know I’m not a politician or a Tribune or a captain, sire. But . . . I don’t quite see how that’s a bad thing.”

    “Two reasons,” Gaius replied. “First is that when the High Lords are well and truly frightened, their initial instincts will be to protect their homes. It would almost certainly cause them to reduce the quality and quantity of troops they would be willing to commit to the campaign—which could prove fatally disastrous for the entire Realm. If the Vord are not stopped in the next few weeks, they could become so widespread and numerous that we might never overcome them.

    “Second,” he continued, “because of this, Count. The Vord can’t be sure that we know about their newfound abilities—and if I do not disseminate such an obviously critical fact, it is my hope that they will assume that we remain ignorant as to what they can do.”

    Amara nodded, following the line of thought. “They’ll want to save their secret weapon for use at a critical moment, when shock and surprise will decide the course of a battle. They’ll have the crafting at hand, but they won’t dare use it, at least at first, for fear that they’ll be squandering their element of surprise.”

    Gaius nodded. “Precisely.”

    “But what does that accomplish, sire?” Bernard asked.

    “It buys time.”

    Bernard nodded. “To do what?”

    “Find the answer to an important question.”

    “What question?”

    “The one I should have been asking from the start,” Amara said quietly. “Why? Why are the Vord now able to utilize furycraft when they could not before?”

    Gaius nodded again. “Your Excellencies, your skill in the field and your dedication to the Realm are beyond question. But I cannot make an order of this. Instead, I make this request.” He paused for another sip of spicewine. “I wish you to pass into Vord-occupied Alera, discover the source of their furycraft, and, if possible, determine a way to end it.”

    Amara stared incredulously at the First Lord for a heartbeat. Then she shook her head, and said, “Unbelievable.”

    Bernard slashed his hand in a horizontal motion, and said, “Absolutely not. I will not take my wife with me into something that dangerous.”

    Amara jerked her head around to stare at her husband.

    He folded his arms, set his jaw, and met her glare with his own.

    Gaius never looked up from the contents of his cup, but a small smile graced his mouth. “Bernard. Amara. The fact of the matter is that I am asking you to take on a mission which will in all probability result in your deaths—if you are fortunate. Just as I have asked several other small teams to attempt the same. But it is my belief that if anyone is to succeed, it will be the two of you.” He looked up at Amara. “Regardless of what may have passed between us before today, the fact of the matter is this: Our Realm stands on the brink of ruin, and most of the people in it do not even realize that this is so. Alera needs you.”

    Amara bowed her head for a moment and sighed. “Crows take you, Gaius Sextus. Even when you make a request, you leave me no choices.”

    “They do seem to