Princeps' fury by Jim Butcher Page B

the Rivan Legions, my lord?”

    Bernard stopped pacing and looked at her helplessly.

    Amara couldn’t stop herself. She burst out laughing.

    Bernard’s face twitched through half a dozen separate emotions. Then a smile broke the surface of his features, and he shook his head wryly. “Breaking up storms before they have time to properly gather themselves again, are we?”

    “It is my duty as Countess Calderon,” Amara said. She crossed the room to him, stood on her toes, and kissed him lovingly on the mouth. He slipped an arm around the small of her back and drew her close against him, drawing the kiss out over a slow, delicious minute. Amara let out a pleased little sound as their mouths parted, and smiled up at him. “Long day?”

    “Better now,” he said. “You must be hungry.”

    “Starving. Shall we?”

    They had just stepped outside when the sentry sounded a ram’s horn—a challenge to incoming Knights Aeris. A moment later, the distant sound of another horn came to them in answer, and a few seconds later, a flight of Knights Aeris swept down from overhead at maximum speed, twenty strong, bearing a wind coach amongst them.

    “Odd,” Bernard said. “Twenty for a single coach? The harness only needs six.”

    “An escort, perhaps,” Amara said.

    “Nearly a Legion’s allotment of Knights Aeris as escorts? Who would be that important who would need them?”

    The Knights waited until the last possible moment to slow down, and landed in the courtyard in front of Garrison’s command building amidst a hurricane roar of furycrafted wind.

    “Extra hands,” Amara said, understanding, as the roar died down. “They’re flying at top speed, taking turns as bearers.”

    Bernard grunted. “What’s the rush?”

    One of the Knights Aeris came running over to Bernard and slammed a fist to his breastplate in a Legion salute. Bernard returned the gesture automatically.

    “Your Excellency,” the Knight said. He offered a sealed envelope. “I must ask you and the Countess to come with me at once.”

    Amara lifted her eyebrows and traded a glance with her husband. “Are we under arrest?” she asked, carefully keeping her tone neutral.

    “The details are in the letter,” the Knight replied.

    Bernard had already opened the letter, and was reading it. “It’s from the First Lord,” he said quietly. “We are commanded to come to Alera Imperia at once.”

    Amara felt a hot flash of anger. “I don’t work for Gaius anymore,” she stated, her tone precise.

    “Are you refusing to comply, Countess?” asked the Knight, politely.

    “Amara—” Bernard began.

    Amara should have remained silent, but the fires of her anger sparked memories of other fires, far more horrible, and her pain got the better of her. “Give me one reason why I should.”

    “Because if you do not,” said the Knight politely, “then I have been ordered to arrest you and bring you to the council in chains, if necessary.”

    Amara felt her knuckles pop in protest as her hand clenched into a fist.

    Bernard put a large, strong hand on her shoulder, and rumbled, “We’ll come, Captain.”

    “Thank you,” the Knight said, his expression serious. “This way, please.”

    “Let me fetch a few things for the trip, please.”

    “Two minutes,” the Knight said. “I can delay no more than that, Your Excellency.”

    Amara blinked at him. “Why not?” she asked him quietly. “What is happening?”

    “War,” he said shortly. For a moment, his eyes looked haunted. “We’re losing.”

 

    CHAPTER 4

    Gaius Isana, First Lady of Alera, was woken in the middle of the night by a stir in the courtyard below her chambers. The seat of the High House of Placida was shockingly staid, by the standards of the High Lords of Alera. While it was an exquisite home of white marble, it was a manor house of a mere four stories, formed in an open square around a central courtyard and garden like a common country estate. Isana