Furies of Calderon - By Jim Butcher Page 0,168

"He's having his bath. But he's always at the disposal of a lady."

Amara drew the sword from the throat of the soldier before her and with a glance of disdain, turned her back on him to face the speaker.

He was a man, taller than most, his skin the dark golden brown of her own. His night-black hair, worn long against Legion regulations, spilled down in a damp tangle around his shoulders. He was lean with hard, flat muscle, and bore a slender, curved sword of metal blacker than mourning velvet in his hand. He faced Amara with an expression of bland, confident amusement on his face.

He was also dripping wet and as naked as a babe.

Amara felt her cheeks start to heat and firmly kept herself from giving away her embarrassment. 'You are Pirellus, Knight Commander of Garrison?"

"A Parcian girl," Pirellus said, a wide, white smile coming over his mouth. "It has been a very long time since I have sat down and entertained a Parcian girl." He inclined his head, though his sword did not change its casually ready position at his side. "I am Pirellus.''

Amara arched an eyebrow at him and looked him up and down. "I'd heard so much about you."

Pirellus smiled, confident.

"I thought you'd be," she coughed delicately, letting her gaze linger significantly. "Taller."

The smile vanished. With it, Amara would hope, some of that arrogance.

"Put on some clothes, Commander," Amara said. "Garrison is about to come under attack. You will arm and prepare your men and address the members of the Legions who are assembling outside even now."

"Attack?" Pirellus drawled. "By whom, may I ask?"

"The Marat. We believe they have the support of a company of Knights. Possibly more."

"I see," he said, his tone unconcerned. "Now, let me see. I've seen you somewhere before. I'm trying to remember where."

"The capital," Amara said. "I went to some of your matches two years ago and was in a class you lectured at the Academy."

"That's right," Pirellus said, smiling. "Though you were dressed up like a woman at that time. Now I remember-you're that little windcrafter girl who saved those children in the fires on the east side of the city. That was bravely done."

"Thank you," Amara said

"Stupid, but brave What are you doing here, schoolgirP"

"I'm a Cursor now, Pirellus I've come to warn you of an attack before you get buried in a Marat horde "

"How thoughtful of you And you are speaking to me instead of the garrison commander, because..."

"I am speaking to you because you are the ranking capable officer The Count is unconscious, Pluvus an idiotic politico, and the watch commander a centurion without the rank to order a general mobilization You will order it and send to Riva for reinforcements "

Pirellus's brows shot up "On whose authority?"

"On mine," Amara said "Countess Amara ex Cursori Patronus Gaius of Alera "

Pirellus's expression changed again, to a scowl "You got yourself a title for that little display, and you think you can go where you please and order around who you like?"

Amara abruptly reversed her grip on her sword and laid it, blade gleaming, on the table beside her Then she turned to face him and walked toward him, stopping less than an arm's length away "Pirellus,' she said, keeping her voice to a low murmur "I'd rather not be here And I'd rather not pull rank on you Don't force me to push this as far as I'm willing to "

His eyes met hers, hard, stubborn "Don't threaten me, girl You've got nothing to do it with "

In answer, Amara called upon Cirrus again and struck the man with her open hand across his cheek, a ringing blow that had landed and turned his head before he could avoid it Pirellus stepped back from her, blade coming up to rest pointing at her heart in pure reflex

"Don't bother," Amara told him "If you will not do what needs to be done, I challenge you to juns macto here and now, for negligence of duty treasonous to the Realm " She turned from him and reclaimed the blade, turning back to face him "Blades I can begin when you are ready "

The commander had stopped and was staring at her intently "You're kidding me," he said "You've got to be joking You could never beat me "

"No," Amara said, 'but I'm enough of a blade to make you kill me to win You'd be killing a Cursor in the execution of her duties, Commander Whether I'm a

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