Within a minute, the legionare returned from the command tent, nodding to Amara. “Countess, the Princeps sends his compliments and extends his gratitude to the clan-head for coming to us in our hour of need. He is by all means welcome to attend.”

She glanced at her husband and rolled her eyes. “Thank you, legionare. Doroga, if you please?”

Doroga joined Bernard in looking down at the unconscious man and scratched his jaw thoughtfully. “Maybe even if I didn’t.”

* * *

They proceeded inside and found Gaius Attis waiting for them. He was seated at a chair on a small platform overlooking a sand table configured to represent the Calderon Valley. A heavy blanket covered his legs, and he looked pale. Sir Ehren stood in attendance at his side and a bit behind him, and Placida Aria stood in a similar position opposite Ehren.

Gathered in the tent were most of the highest-ranking Citizens of the Realm, a group of tired, bloodied, travel-stained men and women with proud bearing and grim expressions. Every surviving High Lord was present, along with most of the High Ladies. The captains of the Legions were also there, along with representatives from the Senate—who, Amara felt sure, were there mostly in a ceremonial function. All things considered, the tent was quite crowded.

Amara spotted Lady Veradis standing beside her father, the silver-haired Lord Cereus.

“Amara,” Veradis said, and hurried over, her expression concerned. “What happened?”

“Oh, I bumped my hand into something obstinate,” Amara replied.

Veradis took her by the left arm and lifted Amara’s hand in tandem with her own eyebrow. “This is broken.”

“In a good cause. I’ll have someone see to it when we’re finished.”

Veradis made a clucking sound with her mouth, and said, “Oh, you’re impossible. Just give it to me.”

“There’s no need to—”

Veradis lifted her left hand and quite calmly snapped her stiffened fingers and thumb together, as if in the motion of a closing mouth, then cradled Amara’s wrist gently and murmured something to herself. The pain eased over the next several seconds, and Amara let out a breath of relief.

“That’s him, huh?” Doroga asked Bernard.

“Yes.”

Doroga shook his head, studying Gaius Attis. Then he said, “Be right back.”

The broad-shouldered barbarian calmly approached the Princeps. As he got close, both Ehren and Lady Placida seemed to grow tenser. Lady Placida slid half a step forward, to place herself between Doroga and Attis.

“Take it easy, woman,” Doroga drawled. “Just want to talk to the man.”

“Your weapon, sir,” Aria said stiffly.

Doroga blinked, then seemed to remember his cudgel. He offered it to Lady Placida by its handle, and released it as soon as she had it. The cudgel fell with a heavy thump, and Lady Placida grunted. She had to make a visible effort of furycraft to lift the weapon again and set it calmly aside.