Furies of Calderon
to the crows.” She took a breath and then raised her voice, honed it to a dagger’s edge. “And so can you, Fidelias.”

    She had a moment to take satisfaction in the flicker of surprise in Aldrick’s eyes, the simple gasp that came from Odiana. Then she turned her eyes to the door and narrowed them, keeping her face set in a cold, hard mask.

    Fidelias appeared in the doorway, his clothes still rumpled. He had washed the ‘bruise’ off the side of his face, and was holding a clean white cloth to his bleeding lip. “I told you she’d see through it,” he murmured.

    “Do I get graded on it, patriserus ?” Amara asked.

    “A plus.” Fidelias stared at her, and his mouth twisted into a grimace. “You will tell us what you know about the palace, Amara. It might get ugly before it’s over, but you will. This is checkmate. You don’t have to make it hard on yourself.”

    “Traitor,” Amara said, dropping the word lightly.

    Fidelias flinched. His grimace darkened to a scowl.

    Odiana looked back and forth at the sudden silence and then offered, in a helpful tone, “Shall I fetch the branding irons, then?”

    Fidelias turned to them and said, “I think we’ve been ham-handed enough, for the moment.” He focused his eyes on Aldrick and said, “Give me a few moments alone to talk to her. Maybe I can get her to see common sense.”

    Aldrick regarded Fidelias with a steady gaze and then shrugged. “Very well,” he said. “Love, would you?”

    Odiana stepped around Aldrick’s stool, eyes focused intently upon Fidelias. “Do you intend to assist her in any way or to attempt to prevent us from discovering what we wish to know?”

    Fidelias’s mouth quirked up at the corner, and he focused on the water witch. “Yes, I do. No, I don’t. The sky is green. I am seventeen years old. My real name is Gundred.” The woman’s eyes widened, and Fidelias tilted his head to one side. “You can’t tell if I’m lying, ‘love’? I’m not some child. I’ve been deceiving crafters stronger than you since before you were born.” His gaze flicked past Odiana to Aldrick. “It’s in my best interest to get her to talk. In for a sheep, in for a gargant.”

    The swordsman smiled, a sudden show of white teeth. “Not going to offer me your word of honor?”

    The Cursor’s lip curled. “Would it matter if I did?”

    “I’d have killed you had you tried,” Aldrick said. “A quarter hour. No more.” He rose, taking Odiana gently by one arm, and led her out of the tent. The water witch shot a glare at both Fidelias and Amara and then left.

    Fidelias waited until they were gone, then turned to Amara and simply looked at her, saying nothing.

    “Why?” she asked him. “ Patriserus . Why would you do this to him?”

    He stared at her, expression not changing. “I have served as a Cursor for forty years. I have no wife. No family. No home. I have given my life to protecting and defending the Crown. Carrying its messages. Discovering its enemies’ secrets.” He shook his head. “And I have watched it fall. For the past fifteen years, the house of Gaius has been dying. Everyone knows it. What I have done has only prolonged what is inevitable.”

    “He is a good First Lord. He is just. And as fair as anyone could want.”

    “This isn’t about what’s right , girl. It’s about reality. And the reality is that Gaius’s fairness and justice has made him a great many powerful enemies. The southern High Lords chafe at the taxes he lays upon them to maintain the Shieldwall and the Shield Legion.”

    “They always have,” Amara interjected. “It doesn’t change that the taxes are necessary. The Shieldwall protects them as well. Should the icemen come down from the north, they would perish with the rest of us.”

    “They do not see it that way,” Fidelias said. “And they are willing to do something about it. The House of Gaius is weakened. He has no heir. He has named no successor. So they
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