Tavi had to force himself not to retort that his "untested" theories had helped them survive for more than two years, and that his own forces had taken but seven casualties today, none of them fatal, while the Guard's Legions had lost nearly seven percent of their total numbers. "Yes, sir," he said.
"In addition, this violation of your orders is a serious matter. The chain of command must be preserved at all costs. If officers begin to lose their discipline, begin picking and choosing which orders they will obey, it is only a matter of time until such behavior spreads to the ranks-and then we have no Legion. Only a mob of brigands. Do you understand?"
"I understand, sir," Tavi said.
"That said..." Arnos shook his head and sighed. "Your display of initiative saved men's lives today, Captain. So I'm going to overlook your disobedience." His eyes hardened. "Once."
Tavi nodded. "Yes, sir."
Arnos picked up another piece of paper from the desk, folded it in thirds, and held it out. Tavi took it.
"Your orders," the Senator said.
"Yes, sir."
"Dismissed."
Tavi saluted and turned on a heel to march out. Just as he reached the door, Arnos said, "Captain."
Tavi turned. "Sir."
Arnos said, "Captain Nalus asked me to thank you for sending your Tribune Medica and the First Aleran's healers up to assist with the wounded. They saved a good many lives that might otherwise have been lost."
"No thanks are necessary, sir." He paused for a beat and added, "After all, we're all on the same side here."
Arnos flipped over the next page on his stack with rather more force than necessary. "That will be all, Captain."
"Yes, sir," Tavi said, and left the office. Araris fell into step behind him as Tavi stalked from the home and back out toward the horses.
"What's that?" Araris asked quietly, as they mounted.
"Our orders," Tavi said. He fought down the sick feeling in his stomach as he unfolded the piece of paper and scanned over it. His horse danced restlessly in place as he did. "Oh," he said. "Oh. Great furies."
Araris frowned and tilted his head slightly.
"He's putting us in charge of the civilians," Tavi said quietly. "The First Aleran is to march them to a field just east of here. And..."
His voice broke, and he couldn't recover it. He shook his head and passed the paper over to the singulare. He didn't watch Araris read it. He couldn't take his eyes from the families huddling together on the stones of the square, pale, silent, and terrified.
Araris's voice emerged soft with shock and disbelief as he read the last few words of the orders aloud. "There," he said, "to be executed."
Chapter 13
"Are you quite sure they must come off?" asked the First Lord. "It really seems that it would be more comfortable to leave them on."
They had stopped beside an old and seldom-used trail to take a drink from a convenient spring-and Amara had noted that Gaius had been concealing a limp while the small party's steps had quickened over the last few yards. Now, the First Lord sat on a camp stool Bernard had assembled, and the big woodsman knelt before the most powerful man in Alera, unlacing the man's boots.
"I'm certain, sire," Bernard rumbled. "Sore feet are nothing to take lightly- especially not with so much ground still to cover."
"This is somewhat embarrassing, I confess," Gaius said. "I have even increased the amount of walking I have done over the past several months, to prepare for this."
"Walking up stairs and over paving stones is a far cry from a cross-country march, sire," Bernard rumbled. His nostrils flared, and he shook his head. "I'm going to slide the boot off now. I can smell some blood, so the stocking might stick. Point your toe, sire, and I'll have it off as quick as I can."
The First Lord grimaced and nodded. "Aye, let's have it done."
Without being asked, Amara moved to stand behind Gaius and brace her hands on his shoulders, steadying him. It was a somewhat startling feeling. Though the First Lord was as hale a man for his years as could be found in Alera, and though he looked like a man in his forties gone to early silver, the flesh of his shoulders felt thin and somehow frail. Amara felt her touch grow cautious. The last thing the Realm needed was for her to accidentally dislocate Gaius's shoulders while Bernard attempted to put his feet right.
The boot stuck, and it was only after a few moments of effort, some careful twisting, and a hiss of pain from Gaius that Bernard was able to get the boot off his foot. As he had predicted, the pale stocking beneath was dark with blood.
Bernard took a deep breath and frowned thoughtfully. Then he looked up at Amara, and said, "Get the cooking pot and fill it with water, if you would, Countess."
There was something tense about the way he held his head, Amara could tell. She paused for a moment and frowned at him, her own expression questioning.
"The water, Countess," Bernard repeated, his voice steady. "I'll need to wet the stockings before I can take them off and see how bad it is."
She gave him a frown, but fetched the pot and headed for the stream as he had bid her. It took him another quarter of an hour to have both of Gaius's feet bare and wiped clean with a cloth, and to inspect the damage. He sat back a moment later, frowning.
"How bad?" Gaius asked.
Bernard looked steadily at him for a moment, before he said, "I've seen worse. But they're blistered badly. How long have they been paining you, sire?"
"At my age, you hardly notice one pain amidst all the rest," Gaius replied. "The first day wasn't too bad. They weren't comfortable last night, but they didn't get bad until this morning."
Bernard nodded. "The real concern is infection. If we're early enough to stop that, we should be able to handle the rest easily enough."
"Quite embarrassing," Gaius muttered, staring down at his swollen ankles. "Sore feet. This is hardly dignified."
"Travel sores are no respecters of persons, sire," Bernard said. "First thing, let's get you on the ground with your feet up. It will help reduce the swelling and some of the discomfort."
"That would be most appreciated, Count Bernard." Gaius sighed. With the woodsman's help, the First Lord settled himself on the ground, his feet propped up on the stool, where he frowned at them in disapproval while gnawing an apple.
Bernard dumped out the water and went to the spring to refill it, and Amara went with him.