Princeps' Fury (Codex Alera 5)

"Quite," the First Lord agreed. "Antillus and Phrygia represent the only two cities to maintain anything like true traditional Aleran Legions. Every legionare there has seen action. Every man of those cities has served his term in the Legions, seen real combat, so that even their militias are arguably better prepared for actual battle than the first-rank Legions of Attica, Forcia, Parcia, and Ceres-and, frankly Your Grace, your own Second and Third."

Isana lifted a hand. "Gaius, please. I am not a Tribune or a legionare. What does this have to do with me?"

"If I am to defend Alera, I need the Legions of the Shieldwall," Gaius said, gazing steadily at Isana. "Legions, militia, every Knight, every sword and spear of the north."

"Antillus Raucus will never leave his people to the Icemen," Lady Placida said. "Neither will Phrygius Guntus. And both of them have seen heavier fighting than ever, the past two years."

Isana met the First Lord's gaze and abruptly understood. "But if the war with the Icemen can be ended, those Legions will be freed to fight."

Lady Placida's coppery brows rose nearly to her hairline. "Ended? Peace talks with the Icemen have never been successful."

"Neither have they ever had a moderator," Gaius said. "A neutral third party with respect among the Icemen, willing to mediate a negotiation."

Isana drew in a sharp breath. "Doroga." She glanced at Aria, and said, "The foremost chieftain of the Marat. A friend."

Gaius inclined his head. "I've been in regular correspondence with him ever since his daughter took up residence here. The Marat learned to write in less than six months. He's surprisingly astute, really. He is already on the way to the site of the meeting."

"And you're sending me?" Isana said. "Why?"

"Because I need to be here," Gaius replied. "Because by sending you, the most highly positioned woman of the House of Gaius, I am making a statement of trust. Because Doroga trusts you, and he most definitely does not trust me."

"You did say he was astute," Isana said wryly.

Lady Placida's eyes widened slightly, and she glanced at Isana, but Gaius only lifted one corner of his mouth in a small smile and took a sip of his spicewine. "Aria," he said, "I want someone with her who can protect her and Doroga in the event that things go awry-but who doesn't appear to be overtly threatening."

"Sire," Lady Placida protested, "if the Vord take Ceres, Placida is next. My place is at home, protecting my people."

The First Lord nodded calmly. "It's up to you, of course, Aria, to decide if your people will be better protected by yourself or by Antillus Raucus, all of his Citizenry, and sixty thousand Antillan veterans." He took another sip of wine. "To say nothing of the Phrygians."

Lady Placida frowned and folded her hands in her lap, staring down at them.

"Isana," Gaius said quietly. "Alera needs those Legions. I am issuing you full authority to make a binding treaty with the Icemen."

Isana drew in a sharp breath. "Great furies."

Gaius waved a hand in a deprecating gesture. "You'll get used to it. It isn't as enormous as it seems."

Isana felt a small, hard smile stretch her lips. "And if Octavian's mother arrives unlooked for from the north with a critical force at her back, loyal to the Crown, in an hour of dire need, it just might steal quite a bit of the glory Lord Aquitaine is going to gain for himself in the field-winning support for Octavian by proxy, even if the Princeps himself can't be here."

"I confess," Gaius murmured, "that had occurred to me in passing."

Isana shook her head. "I can't stand these games."

"I know," Gaius said.

"But you ask me to save lives by helping to end a war that has gone on for centuries. I can't refuse, either."

"I know that, too."

Isana stared at Gaius for a moment. Then she said, "How can you live with yourself?"

The First Lord stared at her for a moment, his eyes cold. Then he spoke in a very quiet, precise, measured voice. "I look out my window each day. I look out my window at people who live and breathe. At people who have not been devoured by civil war. At people who have not been ravaged by disease. At people who have not starved to death, who have not been hacked apart by enemies of humanity, at people who are free to lie and steal and plot and complain and accuse and behave in all manner of repugnant ways because the Realm stands. Because law and order stands. Because something other than simple violence shapes the course of their lives. And I look, wife of my son, mother of my heir, at a very few decent people who have had the luxury of living their lives without being called upon to make hideous decisions I would not wish upon my worst enemies, and who consequently find such matters morally appalling when they consider them-because they have not had to be the ones who dealt with them." He took a short, hard swallow of wine. "Feh. Aquitaine thinks me his enemy. The fool. If I truly hated him, I'd give him the Crown."

A shocked silence followed the First Lord's words-because though Gaius's speech had been quiet and calm, the sheer rage and raw... passion... behind the words had shone through like a fire through glass. Isana realized that in his anger he had allowed her to see a portion of his true self-some part of him that was dedicated far beyond himself, very nearly beyond reason, to the preservation of the Realm, to its ongoing survival, and beyond that, to the welfare of its people, freeman and Citizen alike.

Behind the bitterness, the cynicism, the weary suspicion, she had felt that passion before-in Septimus. And in Tavi.

There had been something else, too. Isana glanced at Aria, but though Lady Placida seemed a little startled by the slip in Gaius's usual mask, there was nothing of the shock that she should have been feeling if she'd sensed what Isana had.

Lady Placida met her eyes and misinterpreted what she saw there. She nodded at Isana, then turned to Gaius. "I will go, sire."

"Thank you, Aria," Isana said quietly, and rose. "Everyone. If we could have a moment alone, please, I would appreciate it."

"Of course," Lady Placida said, rising. She curtseyed to the First Lord again and withdrew. Sir Ehren, silent the whole while, also retreated, as did Araris, after frowning at Isana in concern. He shut the door behind him.

Isana sat facing the First Lord, alone in the room.

Gaius arched an eyebrow and, for a fleeting second, she sensed uncertainty in him. "Yes?" he asked her.