Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(87)

Kalarus let out a booming laugh. "Joined might?" he asked. "Ceres will fall within the day, and I will press on to Alera Imperia herself. There is not enough free might to prevent it." The image turned to Lord Placidus, and said, "Sandos, I had no idea that Aria had a birthmark on her left thigh." His gaze swiveled to the image of Lord Atticus. "Elios, may I compliment your daughter on a particularly lovely head of hair-a small section of which will be delivered to you by messenger, so that you may know that she is in my protective custody."

"Protective custody?" Amara asked sharply.

Kalarus nodded. "Quite. My lords Atticus and Placidus, my quarrels have never been with you or your cities, and I desire none now. I am holding those two as guarantors against your neutrality. I do not ask you to forsake any vow or to turn against the First Lord-only stand from my way. I give you my word that if you do so, when matters settle down, they will be returned to you, otherwise unharmed."

Cereus rose slowly to his feet and walked down to the edge of the pool. "This is why you have come here, Kalarus?" he asked quietly, not looking at the image. "To make promises to your neighbors that you will not attack them, even while you assault another before their very eyes?"

"I am delivering my terms to them," Kalarus said. "My terms for you are somewhat different."

"I am listening," Cereus said quietly.

"Yield your city to me now," Kalarus said. "And I will spare your life and that of your family. You will be free to depart and make what life you would elsewhere in the Realm."

Cereus's eyes narrowed. "You would seek to cast me from my family's home? To force me to abandon my people?"

"You should be grateful I'm giving you a choice," Kalarus replied. "Defy me, and it will go hard for you, and for your line. I promise to be thorough. I know all of their names, old man. Your three daughters. Your son. Your eleven grandchildren."

"You would threaten babes in arms, Kalarus? You're a madman."

Kalarus barked out a laugh. "A madman? Or a visionary. Only history will decide-and we all know who writes the histories." Kalarus's teeth showed again. "I'd prefer you to fight so that I might destroy you. But we both know that you aren't a fighter anymore, Macius. Walk away while you still can."

High Lord Cereus faced Kalarus's image for a silent minute before he lifted a hand, clenched it into a fist, and snarled, "Get out of my garden."

The waters of the pool rippled, and Kalarus's image, like Gaius's had, fell back into droplets of water that splashed back into the pool.

"Threaten my granddaughter. I'll wring your skinny throat, you cowardly slive." Cereus growled at the pool. Then he turned to face the assembly. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have a city to defend. I welcome any help you might give. But if you don't intend to fight, you should depart the city as quickly as possible." He turned a hard look at the pool where Kalarus had stood. "If you can't help, then stay the crows out of my way."

Then the old man, his anger wrapped around him like a cloak, spun on his heel and strode from the garden barking orders to his startled-looking men, his voice ringing from the walls.

The others in the garden just stared after Cereus, startled at the change in the man. Then they began to speak quietly, most moving to leave. Amara turned to the images of Lords Placidus and Atticus. "My lords, please. Before you go, a word on behalf of the First Lord?"

The water-forms nodded, and Amara waited until the garden had emptied again. "My lords, may I ask your intentions?"