Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(169)

"That's it," she said.

The old soldier blinked and looked behind him. "It is? What is it?"

"Giraldi, bring me tea. Something strong. And find me his sword."

It was a long and weary march back to the horses, and an even wearier ride all the way back to the Legion fortifications at the Elinarch. Tavi arrived in the coldest, heaviest hours of the night. It still seemed odd to him that despite the blazing heat of late summer in the southwest of the Realm, the night managed to be just as uncomfortably cool as in the Calderon Valley.

They were challenged by mounted pickets in two lines as they approached, and as they crossed the final open ground to the town, Tavi took note of silent shapes in the tree lines-local archers and woodsmen, most likely, always moving west with steady caution. The First Spear must have sent them out to watch and harass the incoming Canim army, and to attempt to take the foe's scouts as they advanced. It was a measure Tavi should have thought of himself-but then, that's why he'd left Valiar Marcus in charge of the defenses.

Tavi and Kitai rode into the half of the town on the southern end of the Eli-narch, then across the great bridge, their footsteps ringing on the stone. The water-mud-fish scent of the great Tiber River rose up to them. They were better than a hundred feet off the water, at the top of the bridge's arch, and Tavi closed his weary eyes and enjoyed the cool breeze that flowed over him.

Word of his return went ahead of him, called from one sentry to the next. Magnus, as the captain's senior valet, was there to meet him and accompanied them to the command tent-a general-issue Legion tent now instead of Cyril's larger model. Several people entered and left as they approached, all moving at a brisk trot. They had to dance around each other as they did.

All in all, that tent looked grossly undersized and inadequate, in the center of the circle of lightning-blasted earth. That was appropriate, Tavi supposed. He was feeling somewhat undersized and inadequate himself.

"No, crows take it," snarled Valiar Marcus's voice from within the tent. "If our food supplies are on the south bank, and the dogs take it, we'll be eating our boots when we fall back to the north."

"But I just had my whole century toting supplies over there like pack mules," protested a second voice.

"Good," Marcus snapped. "They'll know the exact route to return them."

"Marcus, those storage houses are on the docks, not behind the city walls. We can't leave them unsecured, and our own storage buildings haven't been completed. "

"Then dump them somewhere. Or commandeer a house."

Tavi slid off his horse, stiffened muscles complaining. He beckoned Kitai, and she leaned down toward him. Tavi muttered a quiet request, and she nodded before turning her horse and kicking it into a run toward the followers' camp.

Magnus watched her go, frowning. The darkness and her hood would have hidden her features from the old Cursor, but she was still obviously a woman. "Who is that, sir?" he asked Tavi.

"Later," Tavi said. He flicked his eyes at the tent. Magnus frowned, but then nodded.

Tavi took a moment to order his thoughts, tried to project all the authority he could fabricate, and entered the tent. "Don't commandeer a house," he said, "ask for a volunteer. You won't have any trouble finding residents willing to sacrifice for the good of the only thing standing between them and a horde of Canim."

The tent bore two tables made of empty water barrels and planks. Paper, much of it half-consumed by flame, lay scattered in complete disarray over all of them. Two fish sat at each table, attempting to sort out the surviving papers in the light of a single furylamp.