Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(4)

"How did you know?" Gaius murmured.

Tavi frowned. "The eyes, sire," he said, finally.

"I changed them," Gaius countered.

"Not their shape or color," Tavi explained. "Just... your eyes. They were yours. I'm not sure how I knew."

"Instincts, I suppose," Gaius mused. "Though I wish it weren't. If you had some kind of innate talent we could define, perhaps we could teach your technique to the rest of the Cursors. It could prove extremely valuable."

"I'll work on it, sire," Tavi said.

"Very well," Gaius said. "I wanted to speak to you. I read your analysis of the reports you've been tracking."

Tavi blinked. "Sire? I thought those were for Captain Miles. I'm surprised they reached you."

"In general, they wouldn't. If I tried to read every paper in the Citadel, I'd be smothered within a day," Gaius said. "But Miles thought enough of your argument that he passed it on to me."

Tavi took a deep breath. "Oh."

"You make a convincing case that now is the time for action against the more ambitious High Lords."

"Sire," Tavi protested. "That wasn't necessarily my position. Miles wanted me to write in opposition to his preferred strategies. I was just advocating it to help him find weaknesses in his own planning."

"I'm aware," Gaius said. "But that makes your conclusions no less credible." He frowned, eyes on one of the plain bookcases. "I think you're right. It's time to make the High Lords dance to my tune for a change."

Tavi frowned again. "But... sire, it could escalate into a real disaster."

Gaius shook his head. "The escalation is coming regardless of what we do. Sooner or later, Kalare or Aquitaine will move on me in force. Best to move now, on my own schedule, rather than waiting for them to prepare."

"Optionally, sire," Tavi pointed out. "It could fall flat, too."

Gaius shook his head, smiling. "It won't."

"How do you know?"

The First Lord bobbed an eyebrow. "Instinct."

Tavi chuckled despite himself. "Aye, sire." He straightened. "What are my orders?"

"We still need to see to your military training," the First Lord mused, "but none of the Legions I prefer are due to begin a training cycle until next year." Gaius drew a leather letter case from within his tunic and tossed it to Tavi. "You'll need something to fill your time. So you're going on a trip."

Tavi frowned down at the case. "Where?"

"The Vale," Gaius replied. "To the ruins of Appia, to be precise, to study with Maestro Magnus."

Tavi blinked and stared. "What?"

"You've finished your second term as an academ, and great furies only know what you might find to amuse yourself if left to your own devices here. I read your paper on the Romanic Arts. So did Magnus. He needs a research assistant," Gaius said. "I suggested you, and he jumped at the chance to have you for six months."

Tavi gaped. "But... sire, my duties..."

Gaius shook his head and said, "Believe me, I'm not handing you a gift, Tavi. I may need you in position there, depending on how matters fall out. Unless, of course, you do not wish to go."

Tavi felt his mouth curve into a slow, disbelieving smile. "No, sire! I mean, uh, yes, sire! I'd be honored."

"Excellent," Gaius said. "Then pack to leave before dawn. And ask Gaele to deliver those letters for you."