Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(198)

Tavi's heart all but stopped in his chest.

Nasaug had figured out the trap. He might not yet know the details, but he knew it was there. Tavi kept all expression from his face and stared impassively at the Battlemaster.

Nasaug let out another rumbling chuckle and nodded at the board. "Where did you learn that strategy?"

Tavi regarded the Cane, then shrugged. "Varg."

Nasaug froze.

His ears came to quivering attention, pricked forward at Tavi.

"Varg," he growled, very low. "Varg lives?"

"Yes," Tavi replied. "Prisoner in Alera Imperia."

Nasaug narrowed his eyes, his ears twitching. Then he lifted a hand and beckoned.

The grizzled Cane returned, bearing a cloth bundle held upon his upraised palms. At a nod from Nasaug, the Cane set the bundle down on the ludus board and unfolded it. Tavi's gladius, the one he had cast aside that morning, lay within.

"You are dangerous, Aleran," Nasaug said.

Instinct told Tavi that the words were a high compliment. He kept his eyes steady, and said, "I thank you."

"Respect changes nothing. I will destroy you."

"Duty," Tavi said.

"Duty." The Battlemaster gestured at the sword. "This is yours."

"It is," Tavi replied. "You have my thanks."

"Die well, Aleran."

"Die well, Cane."

Nasaug and Tavi fractionally bared their throats to each other once more. Then Nasaug backed away several paces before turning and striding back toward his army. Tavi folded up the ludus board back into its case, recovered both of his blades, and made his own way back to the city. He slipped in through the gates just as deep drums began to rumble and Canim war horns began to blare.

Tavi spotted Valiar Marcus and called to him. "First Spear, get the men into position! This is it!"

"Very well," Lady Aquitaine said. She nodded to Odiana, and said, "Time we got into costume."

Odiana promptly opened a backpack and handed Amara her disguise.

Amara stared down at the scarlet silk in her hands, and said, "Where is the rest of it?"

Aldrick stood at the hostel's window, watching the street outside. The big swordsman glanced back at Amara, made a choking sound in his throat, and turned away.

Odiana exercised no such restraint. The lovely water witch threw back her head and let out a peal of laughter, a sound too loud for the room they had rented from a surly Kalaran innkeeper. "Oh, oh, my lord. She's blushing. Isn't she fetching?"

To her horror, Amara realized that Odiana was right. Her cheeks felt as though she could have heated water on them, and she had absolutely no idea what to do about it. It was not the sort of situation she had been trained to handle. She turned away from Lady Aquitaine and her retainers and held up her disguise.

It consisted of a simple sheath of red silk, held up by a pair of tiny silk straps. Neckline, such as it was, was alarmingly low-and in back, the garment would leave her naked almost to the waist. The little shift's hem would fall to the tops of her thighs if she was lucky.

"Now, now," Lady Aquitaine chided Odiana. "Show her the rest of it."

"Yes, Your Grace," Odiana said with a little curtsey. Then she drew out a pair of light sandals with straps that would wrap the leg to the knee, a pair of slender silver armbands wrought in the shapes of ivy vines, a beaded headdress that faintly resembled a chain coif and a plain, smooth metal band.

A discipline collar.

It was a slaver's device, furywrought to give control of whoever wore it to the slaver. It could incapacitate its wearer with pain-and, more insidiously, it could, at the slaver's option, provide the inverse of that sensation, and just as intensely. Discipline collars were sometimes used to restrain particularly dangerous furycrafters being held for trial in the legal system, though such cases were historically rare.