Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(153)

"He happened to be outside the tent at the time."

"Quite fortunate," Magnus said. "Don't you think?"

Tavi glanced at his torn knuckles. He hadn't had time to clean them or bandage them properly. "So was I."

Magnus shook his head. "Luck isn't usually so common. Valiar Marcus was meant to die at that meeting. But he survived."

"So did I," Tavi said quietly. And after a moment, he added, in a neutral voice, "And so did you."

Magnus blinked at him. "I was still talking to the town's militia tribune."

"Quite fortunate," Tavi said. "Don't you think?"

Magnus stared for a second, then gave Tavi an approving smile. "That's a smart way to think, sir. It's what you need in this business."

Tavi grunted. "I'm still not sure I'm ready."

"You're as ready as any Third Subtribune Logistica would be," Magnus said. "And better able than most, believe me. The Legion has enough veterans to know its business. You just need to look calm, confident, and intelligent and try not to lead anyone into any ambushes."

Tavi glanced around him, at the ruins of the tent. His mouth twisted bitterly. It was just then that the crows flooded by overhead, a raucously cawing mass of the carrion birds, thousands of them, sweeping over the Tiber and the Elinarch toward the southwest. They flew by for a solid two minutes, at least, and when a ripple of scarlet lightning went through the clouds overhead, Tavi could see them, wings and beaks and tail feathers of solid black against the red, moving together in a nearly solid mass that almost seemed to be a creature in its own right.

Then they were gone, and neither one of the Cursors on the storm-wracked ground spoke. The crows always knew when a battle was brewing. They knew how to find and feast upon those who would fall.

Magnus sighed after a few seconds more. "You need to shave, sir."

"I'm busy," Tavi said.

"Did you ever see Captain Miles unshaven?" Magnus asked quietly. "Or Cyril? It's what legionares will expect. It's reassuring. You need to give them that. Take care of your hands, too."

Tavi stared at him for a second, then let out a slow breath. "All right."

"For the record, I strongly disagree with your decision regarding Antillus Crassus. He should be imprisoned with the other suspects."

"You weren't there," Tavi said. "You didn't see his eyes."

"Everyone can be lied to. Even you."

"Yes," Tavi said. "But he wasn't lying to me tonight." Tavi shook his head. "Had he been into some kind of plot with his mother, he'd have left with her. He stayed. Confronted me directly. I'm not sure how intelligent he is, but he isn't a traitor, Magnus."

"All the same, until we know what further damage his mother might wreak-"

"We don't know for certain she was involved," Tavi said quietly. "Until we do, we should be careful with our words." Magnus didn't look happy about it, but he nodded. "Besides. Crassus is likely the most powerful furycrafter we have left in the Legion, apart from Maximus, and he's the one who has been training with the Knights Pisces. He's the only choice to lead them."

"He'll be in a position to ruin anything this Legion attempts to accomplish if you're wrong, sir."

"I'm not."

Magnus pressed his lips together, then shook his head and sighed. He drew a small case out from behind a mound of lightning-tortured earth, and opened it, revealing a small shaving kit and a covered bowl. He opened it to reveal steaming water. "Maximus should be back shortly. You clean up," he said. "I'll find you a proper cavalry weapon."