Princeps’ Fury

“Or,” he continued, “you can accept them. And never carry slaves again.”

Demos just shook his head slowly for a moment. “What have you done?”

“I’ve just made it more profitable for you to stop slaving than to continue it,” Tavi said.

Demos smiled faintly down. “You give me chains fashioned to my own size, Your Highness. And ask me to wear them freely.”

“I’ll need skilled captains, Demos. I’ll need men whose word I can trust.” Tavi gri

Demos dropped the chains back into the bag and slung it over one shoulder, then inclined his head more deeply than Tavi had seen him make the gesture before. “Welcome aboard the Slive, my lord.”

Demos immediately turned and began bawling orders to the crew, and Max and Kitai came up the ramp to stand next to Tavi.

“That was well done, Aleran,” Kitai murmured.

Max shook his head. “There’s something broken inside your skull, Calderon. You do all your thinking sideways.”

“It was Ehren’s idea, actually,” Tavi said.

“Wish he was coming with us,” Max rumbled.

“That’s the glamorous life of a Cursor,” Tavi replied. “But with any luck, we won’t be gone long. We sail Varg and his people back home, make some polite noises to keep diplomatic cha

Max grunted. “Gives Gaius time to gather support in the Senate, declare you his heir all legal and official.”

“And puts me somewhere that is both beyond the reach of potential assassins and of unquestionable importance to the Realm,” Tavi said. “I am particularly fond of the former.”

The sailors began casting off mooring lines, and Kitai took Tavi’s hand firmly. “Come,” she said. “Before you splatter your breakfast all over your armor.”

As the ship pushed away from the dock and began to rock with the motion of the sea, Tavi felt his stomach slowly begin to roil, and he hurried to his cabin to relieve himself of his armor and make sure that he had plenty of water and an empty bucket or two available. He was a terrible sailor, and life on a ship was pure torment.

Tavi felt another twinge in his belly and thought longingly of nice, solid ground, be it ever so littered with assassins.

Two months at sea.

He could scarcely imagine a greater nightmare.

“This stinks,” complained To

Kestus glanced down at the field hatchet strapped to his horse’s saddlebag. It would be hard to get much strength behind a throw while riding a horse, but To

True, Kestus had the entire deserted run of the wilderness southwest of the Waste to hide the body in, but there was the issue of the new man to complicate things. He glanced back at the third member of the patrol, the slender, wiry pip-squeak who called himself Ivarus and had enough sense to keep his mouth shut most of the time.

Kestus was a strong believer in avoiding complications. So he did what he usually did when To

“Do you know what it’s like closer to the Waste?” To

Kestus thought wistfully of murder.

“I talked to this one guy from the northern march,” To

The man cursed the horse savagely, kicking harder than necessary with his heels and jerking hard on the reins to bring it back under control.

Kestus idly added theoretical torture to the theoretical murder, because done right, it might be fu

“And here we are,” To

Ivarus, his face mostly hidden beneath the hood of his cloak, broke a branch about as thick as a man’s thumb from a tree beside the trail. Then he nudged his horse up into a trot and drew up alongside To

“We could have them lining up to spread their legs for us for the price of a piece of bread,” To

Ivarus quite calmly lifted the branch and broke it over To

“Bloody crows!” To

Kestus didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. “He thinks you’re a bloody idiot. So do I.”

“What?” To

“Because you want to take advantage of people who are desperate and dying,” Kestus said. “And because you haven’t thought things through. People are starving. Disease is rampant. And soldiers get paid. How many legionares do you think have been murdered in their sleep for the clothes on their back, the coins in their purse? How many do you think have fallen sick and died, just like all those holders? And in case it slipped your notice, To

To

“Look,” Kestus said. “Julius got us all the way through Kalare’s rebellion in one piece. None of our company died. And out here, we’re out of the worst of it. It might not pay as well, or have the… opportunities, as the patrols nearer the Waste. But we aren’t dying of plague or getting our throats cut while we sleep, either.”

To

“Yep,” Kestus agreed. “So’s Julius. Which is why we’re all in one piece.” So far.

The loudmouth shook his head and turned to glare at Ivarus. “You touch me again, and I’m going to gut you like a fish.”

“Good,” Ivarus said. “Once we hide the body, Kestus and I can switch out our mounts with yours and pick up the pace.” The hooded man glanced up at Kestus. “How much longer until we get back to camp?”

“Couple of hours,” Kestus replied laconically. He gave To

To

Kestus liked the new man.

As twilight settled over the land, they rode into the glade that Julius had chosen as their camp. It was a good site. A steep hillside had provided them a place to earthcraft something that almost resembled shelter from the weather. A small stream trickled nearby, and the horses whickered, their steps quickening as they recognized the place where they would receive some grain and rest.

But just before he rode out of the shelter of the belt of heavy evergreens that surrounded the glade, Kestus stopped his horse.

Something was wrong.

His heartbeat sped up a little, as a tension with no obvious explanation seized him. He remained still for a moment, trying to trace the source of his unease.