Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(273)

If he'd known that they were going to build an apartment, complete with private bath, into the command building, he'd have told them not to do it. But they'd simply walked him there at the end of the tour. He had a small sitting room, a bathing room, and a bedroom that would have been of distinctly modest size in any setting other than a Legion camp. As it was, he could have fit a standard tent into it without trouble, and his bed was wide enough to sprawl carelessly on, a distinct difference from the standard Legion-issue folding cot and bedroll.

Guards stood outside the command building, and saluted as Tavi came walking up with Kitai beside him. He nodded to the men, both of them Battle-crows. "Milias, Jonus. Carry on."

The young cohort had taken the duty for guarding the captain's quarters upon themselves with quiet determination, and the men on duty were always careful that their uniforms were immaculate, and that the crow sigil the cohort had taken as their own was obvious upon their breastplates and, in more stylized detail, upon their helmets and shields. The burned standard had been duplicated many times, always with the black crow and not the Crown's eagle, and one such standard hung on the door to the command building.

He passed inside and headed for the rear area on the first floor-his apartment. It was plainly, sensibly furnished with sturdy, functional furniture. He had dropped off several things there earlier in the day, but this would be the first time he had stayed the night. "So what is this idea?"

"To me," Kitai said, "it seems that you have a problem. Your scouts are not swift enough to evade the foe if discovered. Nor can they see in the dark, while your foe can."

"I just said that."

"Then you need swift scouts who can see in the dark."

Tavi shrugged out of his cloak and tossed it onto a chair. "That would be nice, yes."

"It happens," Kitai said, "that my mother's sister is just such a person. In fact, I believe she knows some few others who share those qualities."

Tavi's eyebrows shot up. Kitai's aunt was Hashat, leader of the Horse Clan of Marat, and likely the second most influential of the Marat clan-heads.

"Bring a Marat force here?" he asked.

"Evidence suggests it may be possible for them to survive," she said, her tone dry.

Tavi snorted. "I thought Doroga needed Hashat to keep things in order at home."

"Perhaps," Kitai said. "But you would not require the whole of the clan. A herd or two of riders would be adequate for your needs. That much strength could be spared, if needed to ensure the stability of your mad Realm, Aleran. The order of Alera means as much to the Marat as our stability means to you."

"True enough."

"And cooperation between your folk and mine, even on a small scale, could be an important step in solidifying our friendship."

"It could," he agreed. "Let me think about it. And I'll have to speak to the First Lord."

"And it will save lives you would otherwise be forced to sacrifice."

It would do that, Tavi thought. But then a notion struck him, and he arched a brow and tilted his head at Kitai, grinning. "You're just doing this so you get to ride around on horses more often."

Kitai gave him a haughty glance. "I wanted a horse. But I got you, Aleran. I must make the best of it."

Tavi went to her, pushed her against a wall with a certain amount of careless strength, then pinned her there with his body and kissed her. The Marat girl's breath sped up, and she melted into the kiss, hands lifting to touch, body moving in slow, sinuous tension against his.