She met his eyes, and her mouth suddenly felt dry.

He reached down and took her hand gently in his. He squeezed tightly once. "You can do this."

She bit her lip and nodded. "What if-"

He laid two fingers lightly over her lips and gave her a quiet smile. "Don't borrow trouble. Just talk to him. He loves you. It will be all right."

She closed her eyes tight for a second and brushed the faintest ghost of a kiss against his fingers. Then Isana took a steadying breath, nodded, and said, "Very well."

Araris turned and opened the door for her. "Captain," he announced quietly. "Steadholder Isana to see you."

A resonant, deep-chested voice answered in‹ a tone of distracted confidence. "Thank you, Araris. Send her in, please."

Araris gave Isana another small smile, then stood aside, and Isana walked into Tavi's office. Araris shut the door behind her.

The office was supremely utilitarian, even stark. There was an old wooden desk, scarred from use, several chairs, and several shelves filled with books and papers and writing materials. The cold stone floor was covered by a few simple rugs, and a box beside the lit fireplace was filled with a neat stack of cordwood. A door led off into another room, and a plain, medium-sized mirror hung upon the same wall.

He sat at the desk, a quill in hand, scrawling something hurriedly across the bottom of a page. There were several stacks of them spread across the desk, evidence of what appeared to be several hours' work. He finished writing, set the quill aside, and rose with a broad smile.

Isana stopped in her tracks. The man who stood up was enormous, even taller than her brother Bernard, though he had a more wiry build and the slen-derness of youth. His dark hair was cropped short, and he wore a suit of battered Legion armor and a sword on one hip. His features were angular, strong, attractive, though a fine white line across one cheek spoke of a wound too severe to heal without leaving a scar.

Tavi's eyes, though, had not changed. They were green and bright, lit from within by the intelligence of the mind behind them.

How like his father he looks, Isana thought.

"Aunt Isana," Tavi said, and wrapped his arms around her.

She was about to caution him to be careful, but he was gentle, making sure not to crush any armored steel ridges against her. She made up for it by hugging him back as hard as she could. He was real, and safe. She hadn't seen him face-to-face in years, but there was no mistaking that he was her son, no hiding the genuine burst of warmth and love and delight that radiated from him as she hugged him.

They stood like that for a time, before Isana broke the embrace. She lifted her hands to cup his face, her eyes swimming with tears, her cheeks already aching from smiling. "Hello, Tavi."

He kissed her on top of the head. "Hello, Auntie. It's been a long time."

She leaned back to arm's length, looking him up and down. "Longer for some than others," she teased. "Goodness, you've grown even more. What do they put in the water here?"

He grinned. "Yeah. It sort of snuck up on me. But I think I've stopped growing, finally. These trousers have fit me for almost a year."

"Thank goodness. If you got much taller, they'd have to raise all the ceilings in here."

Tavi shook his head gravely. "Nonsense. This is the Legion. The ceiling is at regulation height. It is the responsibility of every legionare to be sure that he is regulation height as well."

Isana laughed. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor."

"Never that," Tavi said. "My mind has been gone for a while now, but that's no reason not to laugh at things. How's Uncle His Excellency?"

"Bernard is well, as are the folk at home. Which reminds me." She untied the pouch from her belt and opened it, rustling through several papers, before she drew out a folded, sealed letter. "Frederic asked me to give this to you."

Tavi smiled and took the letter. He cracked the seal and his eyes flicked rapidly over it. "That girl he rescued, eh? Beritte must be miffed. How's that working out for them?"

"About the way most marriages do. They have a lot to learn about how to treat one another."

"I'm glad for him," Tavi said. "If I get time, I'll write something to send with you when you go back. But in case I don't, would you give him my congratulations?"

"Of course."

Tavi smiled at her and gestured to the fireplace, where a kettle hung from a hook close enough to the flames to keep the liquid inside warm. "Tea?"

"Please."

Tavi drew out a couple of the room's chairs, putting them close together, and held one of them for her. Then he took a pair of tin cups down from a shelf and poured steaming tea from the kettle into each. He added a spoonful of honey to Isana's, the way she liked it, then splashed three of them into his own, before returning to her.

They shared a cup of tea, chatting quietly about people and places back home in the Calderon Valley. They talked for a time of Tavi's duties at the Eli-narch, and of Isana's journey in assembling the relief column, until Tavi rose to get them both fresh cups of tea.

When he settled down again, Isana said, "Tavi, I hope you know how proud we are of you. Your uncle and I. You've grown into a remarkable young man."

He blinked at her a couple of times, then carefully studied the surface of his tea. Isana's sense of his emotions revealed pleasure in the compliment, and pride, along with large helpings of embarrassment. His cheeks colored slightly. "Well," he said. "I couldn't have done any of it without you and uncle. Teaching me. Preparing me."

Isana felt a little stab of guilt. Preparing him was probably the single greatest thing she hadn't done.

She sipped a little more tea, and then frowned down at its surface. "Tavi," she said. "Is it safe to talk here?"

He cocked his head slightly to one side, and she felt the spike of curiosity that flashed through his thoughts. "Yes," he said, with total confidence. "No one can overhear us in here. Why, Aunt Isana?"

Isana took a deep breath. "There's something we need to talk about," she said.

Tavi's face turned red again. "Look, a lot of that is just rumor. I mean, the men get to talking over drinks and every little story grows in the retelling."

Isana blinked at him.

"I mean, it's not like I'm hosting revels or anything. Everyone likes a good story like that, though, and the truth of it isn't as much fun."

"Tavi," Isana said in a firm tone. "What in the wide world are you talking about?"

Tavi froze with his mouth open for a second. Acute chagrin flooded out from him in a wave Isana could practically see. Then he swallowed, and said, "Urn. Nothing?"

Isana arched an eyebrow at him.

Tavi sighed, blushing again. "I was talking about Kitai. She and I…"

"Ah," Isana said. "You're together."

"Urn. Yes."

"In more than one sense of the word, I take it?"

"Well. Yes," he said miserably. "But it isn't like we're… I mean, some of the Marat are, um, sort of indiscriminate when it comes to that kind of thing, and a lot of their riders are around me every time I move around, so it's inevitable that some idiots are going to start spouting rumors about it, but it isn't really like that." Tavi paused to take a breath. "Kitai and I are just… together."

Isana sighed. "Stop. Neither one of us wants you to elaborate, Tavi." She turned her teacup idly in her hands. "Well. This could become… very complicated. I should have had this talk with you sooner."

"Um," Tavi said. He might have become a fully grown man now, but Isana was familiar with his uncomfortable squirming. He'd always done that when he'd been caught red-handed as a child. "You don't have to have that talk. I had that much figured out by the time I was about ten. I mean, caring for the sheep and all…"