Tavi sighed. "You think I'm overstepping my authority as a Cursor."

"I know you're doing that," Araris replied. "I question whether or not you're overstepping your… new authority."

"What difference does it make?"

"Your claim to that authority is based upon authority derived from the law and from principles of justice," Araris said, his voice quiet and intent. "If you begin your new role by spitting on that law, those principles, you're undermining your own position. Eroding the ethical foundations from which your authority should derive."

Tavi heard himself chuckle quietly. "Believe it or not, I've thought of that."

Araris tilted his head slightly to one side, listening.

"What I learned from Nasaug, and the opportunity that it created, is clearly information of critical importance. It would probably influence Gaius's reasoning very strongly-certainly enough to force him to reconsider his earlier decision. Agreed?"

Araris nodded once.

Tavi turned to face him. "But he's gone. I don't know where he is, or what he's doing, but for the purposes of this crisis, he's been incapacitated. Normally, if that happened, we'd consult with whoever was next in the chain of command-and then that person would make the decision."

Araris made a small, skeptical sound. "That's… quite a shaky foundation."

Tavi half grinned. "I know," he said quietly. "But… if I'm to be what I was meant to be, it means that I have a responsibility to this Realm and its people. And if I don't act, it's going to be a real nightmare." He put a hand on Araris's shoulder. "You ask me how I can possibly justify doing this. But the real question is this: How can I possibly justify doing nothing?"

Araris stared at him for a moment, then shook his head and snorted.

They turned back to stare at the ocean again, and Tavi asked, "I need you. Be honest with me. Are you against this?"

"I was against you rushing in without being sure of your own motives," he replied. "Your father was a good man. But he had a tendency to trust his instincts too much. To act without thinking. He leaned on his power to get him out of any problems that arose."

"Not really an issue with me," Tavi murmured.

Araris laughed quietly. "No. You're stronger than he was." He mused for a moment. "And probably more dangerous."

Tavi hardly knew how to respond to that. He lapsed into silence for another several minutes. Then he asked, "Your opinion. Can we do it?"

Araris replied without hesitation. "I don't see how it's possible."

Tavi grunted and chewed on his lip.

Araris sighed and spoke with reluctance. "But that's never really stopped you before, has it?"

Tavi barked out a short laugh, and he saw Araris smile beside him.

"You should get some sleep," Araris said. "You'll need it. Practice tomorrow."

"Practice?" Tavi asked.

Araris Valerian nodded. "You've got your basics with a sword. You're ready for some serious training."

Tavi blinked. He had thought himself… well. Quite skilled with a blade. "Do you really think that's necessary?"

Araris laughed. "Your father used to ask me the same thing."

"What did you tell him?"

"As you wish, milord," Araris responded. His smile faded. "And someone killed him. So you're practicing tomorrow, and every day after. And you'll keep it up until I'm satisfied."

"When will that be?"

"When you can beat me," Araris said. He bowed his head to Tavi and nodded toward the cabin. "Get some rest, milord."

Chapter 24

Isana watched as Tavi's bare back slammed into the bulkhead of the Slives cabin for the ninth time in thirty minutes. The young man bounced back wheezing, but his sword kept moving, catching and turning two slashes and sliding aside a long thrust from his opponent. He wasn't quite fast enough, though, and a string of scarlet beads appeared along one of his ribs.

Isana winced, more at the flash of frustration and chagrin that came from Tavi than from sympathy for his pain. The wound was a minor one, and Isana could close it without trouble, after practice. It wouldn't even scar. Araris would never inflict anything more serious upon any student, much less upon this one.

Tavi'd had the wind knocked out of him, and it showed when he let out a weak yell and pressed a furious attack against Araris. The singulare blocked every single attack, seemingly by the barest of margins, then made a peculiar, circular motion of his wrist. Tavi's sword rolled abruptly from his grasp and fell to the deck.

Tavi didn't wait a second, pressing in close and getting a grip on Araris's sword arm. He slammed his forehead against Araris's cheekbone, and drove a hard blow into his ribs with another yell. Isana tensed suddenly, half-rising, as she sensed the wave of pure anger now rolling from her son.

Araris absorbed the blows like an anvil-they simply impacted him, to no apparent effect. He seized the wrist of Tavi's gripping arm with his own free hand, then turned, weight shifting in a little up-and-down bobbing motion.

Tavi, suddenly drawn off-balance, flipped entirely over, and Araris guided his back down onto the wooden deck. He hit hard enough to make Isana wince again-but not, she was certain, as hard he could have.

Tavi lay there on the deck, blinking up at the sails and the sky, stunned. The sailors, most of whom had been watching the practice, let out a chorus of cheers, jeers, and advice, accompanied by more than a little laughter.

"Temper," Araris said, his voice steady. He wasn't so much as breathing hard. "You're a naturally aggressive fighter, but anger is not your ally in a match like this. You've got to keep yourself centered and thinking. Use the anger. Don't let it use you."

He sheathed his sword and offered Tavi a hand up. The younger man glowered at the older for a moment, then shook his head and took his hand. "What was that wristlock?" he wheezed. "I've never seen that one before."

"It's fairly simple," Araris replied. "You've had enough for one day, though. I'll show you tomorrow, if you like."

"I'm all right," Tavi said. "Show me now."

Araris tilted his head, his lips pursed in thought, then suddenly grinned. "As you wish. Get some water, and we'll go another round. If you can keep your head, I'll show you the lock and the counter."

Tavi recovered his sword from the deck, saluted Araris, and sheathed it. Then he walked over to the water barrel beside where Isana sat on a small folding stool. He smiled at her, dunked a wooden cup into the water, and drank it all down, followed by a second. In the two days since he'd begun recovering from his seasickness, his color had returned, and he'd been shoveling down enough food for two at mealtimes-despite the rather questionable provender to be had from the Slive's cook.

Tavi and Araris were sparring shirtless, apparently to keep Tavi from having all of his shirts cut to ribbons and stained with blood. Isana had been studiously avoiding staring at Araris. She would not have thought that a man his age would look so athletic, without the use of watercraft-but he was very nearly as lean as Tavi, his body hard with flat, ropy muscle. Of course, he'd spent all those years in the forge back at the steadholt, and she'd once seen him practicing there by the light of dying embers, late one night, using an iron bar in place of an actual weapon.

Araris had grown confident and strong again, no longer the broken man he'd become after Septimus's death, and seeing him like that was both immensely gratifying to Isana and more than a little distracting. Her fingertips almost itched with the raw desire to trace those muscles. Instead, she turned back to her sewing, mending one of Kitai's pairs of trousers, where both her eyes and her fingers would have less trouble behaving in an appropriate manner.