Princeps' fury by Jim Butcher Page B

have grown a bit sparse, these past few years,” he agreed quietly.

    Bernard frowned quietly, and stepped up to study the map. “Sire,” he said, after a moment, “that’s a lot ground to cover. You could send a full cohort of scouts into that area and not find what we’re looking for.”

    “You won’t have to cover all of it,” Gaius said. “As the Legions arrive, we will be massing them at Ceres.”

    Bernard grunted. “Ceres is all open land. Bad place to fight a force that outnumbers you so badly.”

    “It’s an extremely bad place, in fact. We would have very little chance of holding it if the Vord outnumber us as thoroughly as I fear that they do. It’s a guaranteed victory for the enemy—who won’t be able to resist it. The Vord will concentrate their heaviest numbers there—including their crafters. It is my hope that there will be enough confusion to allow you to infiltrate their territory and slip away again when your mission is completed.”

    “When in fact,” Amara said, “you have no intention of holding the city.”

    Gaius finished off the rest of his wine and set the glass down with a weary gesture. “I will draw them and hold them in place for as long as I can. Perhaps three days. That should be time enough to impress upon the High Lords exactly how much danger the Vord represent. You may draw upon my personal treasury for any expenses or equipment you feel you may need. If you wish any additional mounts, et cetera—they are yours for the asking. Speak with Sir Ehren, and he will arrange them for you.”

    It was clearly a dismissal, but Amara paused at the doorway.

    “You’re keeping a lot of people in ignorance, Gaius. A lot of them are going to die because of it.”

    The First Lord moved his head in a gesture that might have been a nod of acquiescence, or just a weary sag of the muscles in his neck. “Amara, a lot of people are going to die. Regardless of what I do. Nothing can change that. All I can say for certain is that if we cannot find a way to prevent the Vord from using furycraft against us, we are already lost.”

 

    CHAPTER 8

    As Ehren led them to the First Lord’s study, Isana crossed the path of her brother in the hall outside.

    “Bernard!” she said.

    “’Sana,” he rumbled in his deep, gentle voice. They embraced, and she felt him actually lift her a few inches from the floor—utterly improper treatment, for a First Lady, but she hardly cared. After the first rush of happiness and affection, she began to sense his deep worry, and when she drew away from him, her own face was drawn with concern.

    “What are you doing here?” she asked him, as he exchanged grips with Araris. Then she looked past him, toward Gaius’s study. Amara, her own features strained, waited a few steps back from her husband. She gave Isana a deep nod but did not even attempt to smile.

    “Gaius,” Isana said, understanding. “Gaius has some insane errand for you.”

    “We got here late, and the sane ones were already taken,” Bernard said, forcing a smile to his mouth. It faded after a moment, and he said, “It must be done, ’Sana.”

    Isana closed her eyes for a moment, her stomach twisting with fear for her brother’s safety. “Oh, bloody crows.”

    Bernard burst out in a laugh. “Now we know how serious the situation is, if even you are driven to such coarse speech.”

    “It’s the company she’s been keeping,” Aria said smoothly, stepping forward and extending her hand. “Count Calderon.”

    Bernard took her hand and bowed politely over it. “High Lady Placida.” He glanced over his shoulder at Amara, then smiled at the High Lady. “I hear good things about you.”

    She smiled at him. “I can say as much about you. Which shows how much we know.” She inclined her head to Amara. “Countess. That’s a lovely dress.”

    Spots of color appeared on Amara’s cheeks, but she inclined her head a shade more deeply in respect. “Thank you, Your