Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(246)

"Right up until it went a little sour at the end," Bernard growled.

Amara put her hands on either side of his face. "Let her have her world. It's cold there, and empty. For us, it isn't enough to win, my lord. It isn't enough to simply survive. I will not live in a realm where calculations of power supersede justice and law-regardless of how inconvenient that may be to the Crown."

Bernard's teeth showed in another white, fierce smile. He kissed her gently. "You, ' he said, "are more than that old man deserves."

She smiled at him, warmly. "Be careful, my lord husband. If you say too much, I may have to report your seditious remarks to the First Lord."

"Do that. How long do you think it will take them to get out of there?"

They sat beside one another in the coach. Rook, reunited with her daughter, had fallen asleep while holding her, her cheek resting on Masha's curls. The little girl's cheeks were pink with the warmth of a young child's deep sleep. Lady Placida and Elania were likewise drowsing.

"Ten minutes, perhaps," Amara said. "Once Lady Aquitaine's had a little rest, she'll snap those ropes and free the others. But without transportation for her retainers, she'd have to pursue us on her own. She wouldn't do that, even if Lady Placida wasn't in a position to destroy her public image and her support in the Dianic League with damning testimony about conspiracy to commit murder."

Bernard nodded. "I see," he said. "And what's stopping the bearers from just dumping us out on the ground and going back for her?"

"They're mercenaries, my love. We offered them money. Lots and lots of money. "

"Right," Bernard said. "We're good for it. Though I feel I must ask... why did we leave them naked? To slow them down?"

"No," Amara sniffed. "Because the poisonous bitch deserved it."

Bernard's eyes wrinkled at the corners, and he turned to place a slow, gentle kiss upon her mouth, and one upon each eyelid. Amara found that once closed, her eyes simply refused to open, and she leaned into Bernard's delicious warmth and was asleep before she'd finished letting out a contented sigh.

Tavi shivered in the rain, struggling to hide it from the men around him, and wanted nothing in the world so much as to be warm and asleep.

The Alerans had made ready to meet the next assault in less than an hour. Torches and furylamps beat back the darkness far more effectively than they had under the first withering assault, and the legionares themselves were more organized, more determined.

At least Tavi hoped they were.

Tavi stood atop the last adobe wall with Valiar Marcus. The First Spear moved with a noticeable limp thanks to the Canim javelin. His leg was tied off with a bloodstained bandage, the wound closed with needle and thread, evidence that Foss's healers were badly overworked. Under most circumstances, a wound like Marcus's would have been closed, treated, and the First Spear returned to action virtually whole. The healers had been treating so many light injuries-and closing off far worse ones in order to keep more badly wounded men alive until they could be seen to later-that the First Spear had, by all reports, asked a wounded veteran to withdraw the javelin, then cleaned and stitched the wound himself, covered it with a bandage, and stumped back to his post.

Rain continued to fall, cold and steady. The occasional flashes of scarlet lightning showed little more than sheeting rain. Tavi had been able to make out occasional movement in the darkness, but the Aleran-built defensive wall across the bridge prevented him from making out any details.

However, the simple fact that Tavi could stand on the wall and observe told him one thing: the Canim bolt throwers had ceased their deadly thrumming.