Max shook his head gravely. “Old Vanorius is not going to like this.”

“He doesn’t need to like it,” Tavi said bluntly. “He just needs to do it.” He paused and softened his tone. “Besides, I can’t imagine he’ll be too upset about gaining several thousand Canim militia to help him defend the walls.”

Varg let out an interrogative growl, his head tilting slightly.

Tavi regarded him steadily. “Did you think I’d expect you to leave your civilians here alone and unguarded?”

“And if you get us to do some of the fighting for you,” Varg said, “so much the better for your folk.”

“You aren’t the vord,” Tavi said, simply. “We can work out our problems later.”

Varg stared at him for a moment, then tilted his head slightly to one side. “Tavar,” he rumbled, rising. “I will see to the preparations as you suggest.”

Tavi returned the Canim-style bow, careful to use exactly the same degree and duration as Varg. “It is appreciated, Warmaster. Good day. And to you, Nasaug.”

“Tavar,” the younger Cane growled. The pair of them left the cabin, almost seeming to fold in on themselves to fit through the door. The others took that as their cue to be about their own duties and also filed out.

“Magnus,” Tavi said quietly. “A moment.”

The old Cursor paused and looked back at Tavi.

“The door,” Tavi said.

Magnus shut the door and turned to face him. “Your Highness?”

“I’m sorry I cut you off earlier. I hope I didn’t entirely sever both legs.”

“Your Highness.” Magnus sighed. “This is no time for levity.”

“I know,” Tavi said quietly. “And I do need your help. My intelligence is... incomplete. I’ll need you to speak to whoever Lord Vanorius has bringing in information and sort out exactly where Aquitaine is and how we might contact him.”

“Your Highness—”

“I can’t tell you, Magnus,” Tavi said in a calm, quiet voice. “I’m quite certain my grandfather never revealed all of his sources to you.”

Magnus regarded Tavi thoughtfully for a few moments. Then he bowed his head, and said, “Very well, Your Highness.”

“Thank you,” Tavi said. “Now. You’ve been giving Marcus odd looks for weeks. I want to know why.”

Magnus shook his head. After a moment, he said, “I’m not sure I trust him.”

Tavi frowned. “Crows, man. Valiar Marcus? Why not?”

“He...” Magnus sighed. “It’s nothing I can quantify. And I’ve been trying for weeks. There’s just... something off.”

Tavi grunted. “Are you sure?”

“Of course not,” Magnus replied, automatically. “Nothing’s sure.”

Tavi nodded. “But you haven’t let go of it, either.”