Amara arched a brow at him, then gave a diffident shrug and went back to eating.
"Once Atticus's daughter was freed," Bernard continued, "and he was certain that Kalarus wasn't going to bushwhack him the minute he revealed himself, Atticus froze the bloody floodplain into one enormous sheet of ice. Then he marched his Legions right over it to cut off the easternmost of Kalare's Legions and trap them in the fortress they'd taken. He's got them under siege now, and Gaius is sending Second Imperian to aid them."
"What about the clouds?" she asked.
"Apparently they started breaking up over the cities farthest inland the day before we reached Kalare. After two or three days they fell apart completely."
Amara sipped tea thoughtfully. "Do we know how the Canim did it?"
"Not yet."
She nodded. "How did Placida's Legions arrive at Ceres so quickly? They got there before we did, and we were windborne. I thought he'd have to march them all the way from his home city."
"I suspect everyone was supposed to think that," Bernard replied. "But instead he marched all three of them down to the very edge of his territory the day after Kalarus took his wife. The second Gaius told him Aria was safe, he force-marched all the way to Ceres. Got there in less than a day by highway."
Amara arched an eyebrow. "All three of his Legions?"
Bernard nodded. "Said he figured either Aria would be freed, in which case he'd be able to aid Ceres at the earliest opportunity, or else she'd be killed, in which case he was taking every soldier he had and going after the crowspawn who had done it." Bernard shook his head. "He doesn't strike me as the kind of man to live and let live with someone who touches his wife."
"No," Amara said quietly. "He isn't. But there will always be fools who believe that if a man dislikes violence and goes to great lengths to avoid it, it is a sign of weakness and vulnerability."
Bernard shook his head. "There's an unlimited supply of fools in general. Take, for instance, Lord Kalarus. You remember you told me you thought he must have been in cahoots with the Canim?"
"I'm fairly sure he never used the word cahoots to describe it," murmured Amara.
"Hush and eat," Bernard scolded. "Gaius asked me to make sure you knew that there has, apparently, been a significant Canim incursion, which began at approximately the same time as Kalarus's rebellion."
Amara sucked in a breath. "Indeed? What has happened?"
"Details are still sketchy," Bernard said. "The Cursors in the area were under attack from Kalarus's Bloodcrows. Several are dead, many more missing and presumed underground. But apparently Gaius has some way of seeing things that are happening out there once the clouds were out of his way. The Canim came ashore near..." He frowned, brow furrowing. "It's a big bridge over the Tiber. I can't remember the name, I hadn't heard of it before."
"The Elinarch," Amara said. "It's the only place a sizeable force can cross the river securely."
"That's it," he agreed. "He sent the First Aleran Legion to hold the bridge."
"First Aleran? That... dog and pony Legion? There's a pool on in the Cursors as to how many years it will be before that circus actually sees combat."
"Mmm?" Bernard said. "I hope you bet low."
Amara's eyebrows lifted.
"Apparently, they managed to stand off about sixty thousand Canim."
She nearly choked on the bite of chicken. "What?"
Bernard nodded. "They landed near the bridge, but they've moved south, and they're securing several fortified towns in the area and along the coast."
"The Canim have never done anything like that before," Amara said. "Or come in numbers like this." She fretted her lower lip. "Sixty thousand..."
"The next best thing to ten Legions of their own, yes," Bernard said.
There was a knock at the door. Bernard rose and went to it. His deep voice rumbled quietly as Amara finished her meal, and he returned with Plaeidus Aria in tow.
Lady Placida was once again regal, calm, and immaculately dressed in green silk. Her deep auburn hair was worn loose and flowing, and she smiled warmly at Amara as she approached and bowed her head. "Count, Countess."
Amara started to set her tea aside and rise, but Lady Placida lifted a hand. "No, Amara, please. I know you've been injured. Please, rest."
Bernard gave Lady Placida an approving glance and offered her his chair.
"No thank you, Count," she said. "I shan't keep you long. I only wanted to see you both, so that I could thank you for taking me out of that awful place. I consider myself to be deeply indebted to you both."
"Your Grace," Amara said, shaking her head. "There is no need to-"
"Thank you," Lady Placida cut in, "because you were only doing your duty and my thanks should rightfully go to the First Lord, yes, yes. Save yourself the trouble of making the speech, Amara. What you did was more than simply a job. Especially given the murky group dynamic of your associates. Which was, by the way, very well handled." Her eyes flashed, wickedly merry. "Especially the bit where you took their clothes."
Amara shook her head, and said, "It probably would have been better not to do that."
"Never fear, dear," Lady Placida said. "You're too decent to court her favor, too smart to believe everything she tells you, and too loyal to the Realm to involve yourself in her little games. You could never have been anything but In-vidia's enemy." She smiled. "You just... started it a bit early. With style."
Amara felt a little laugh escape her.
Lady Placida's expression sobered. "You went beyond the call of duty." She turned her head to Bernard and bowed again. "Both of you did. I and my lord husband are in your debt. If you are ever in need, you have only to ask."
Amara frowned at her, and then glanced at Bernard. "Is Rook...?"
"I spoke to Gaius on her behalf," Bernard said quietly. "Pardoned and free to go."
Amara smiled, somewhat surprised at the sense of satisfaction his words brought her. "Then, Lady Placida, there is something I wish to ask of you."
"Only," she said sternly, "if you stop Ladying me. I have a name, dear."
Amara's smiled widened. "Aria," she said.
"Name it."
"Rook and her daughter have nowhere to go, and don't even own the clothes on their backs. She doesn't want to remain involved in the game-not with her daughter to care for. If it isn't too much to ask, perhaps you know a steadholt where she might fit in. Somewhere quiet. Safe."