Princeps’ Fury

“I don’t care if it’s never been done before,” Bernard told the older of the two engineers. “Once you do it, no one will be able to say that again, now will they?”

The engineer ground his teeth. “Your Excellency, you must understand-” Bernard’s eyes narrowed. “I understand that if you speak one more word to me in that condescending tone of voice, I’m going to roll up these plans and shove them so far up your-”

“Assuming that you aren’t too busy,” Amara interjected smoothly, “I wonder if I might have a quiet moment with you, my lord husband.”

Bernard glared at the engineer, then took a deep breath, composed himself, and faced Amara. “Of course. Gentlemen, shall we continue this after lunch?”

The three men murmured agreement. The senior engineer seized his stack of plans from the table without ever taking his eyes off Bernard, quickly put both hands behind him, and began rolling the papers up in an almost-frantic hurry as he backed from the room. Amara was put in mind of a chipmunk stumbling upon a sleeping grass lion and fleeing for its life.

She found herself smiling as she shut the door behind the chipmunk.

“Rivan Legions,” Bernard spat, pacing the functional, plainly appointed office. “They haven’t stood to battle in so long they might as well be called Rivan construction crews. Always finding reasons why something can’t be done. Most often, because it isn’t done that way.”

“The useless parasites,” Amara said, nodding in compassion. “Aren’t your own men members of the Rivan Legions, my lord?”

“They don’t count,” Bernard growled.

“I see,” Amara said gravely. “Did not you, yourself, serve in 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