The First Spear stared at him, and his eyes suddenly went very wide. “Bloody crows “ he whispered.

“There’s not much time, First Spear, and we can’t afford confusion or delays.” Tavi offered him his hand. “So I need to know, right now. Are you with me?”

Footsteps approached the tent.

The First Spear stared at Tavi’s outstretched hand. Then he nodded once, sharply, and lifted his fist to his heart. His voice came out hoarse, low. “All right, sir. I’m with you.”

Tavi nodded at the First Spear and returned the salute.

Magnus entered the tent with Crassus and Max in tow. They saluted Tavi, and Tavi nodded to them. “We don’t have much time,” he began without preamble.

He was interrupted when the tent flap opened again, and Mistress Cymnea entered, tall and calm, her hair and dress flawless, as though she hadn’t been dragged from her bed to rush to the fortifications.

“I’m sorry, Mistress,” Magnus said at once. “I’m afraid you can’t be here for security reasons.”

“It’s all right, Magnus,” Tavi said. “I asked her to be here.”

The old Maestro glanced at Tavi, frowning. “Why?”

Cymnea bowed politely to Tavi. “My thoughts precisely, Captain.”

“I need you to do something for me,” Tavi said. “I wouldn’t ask for your help if it wasn’t important.”

“Of course, Captain. I will do whatever service I may.”

“Thank you,” Tavi said. “Gentlemen, when we’re finished, you’ll need to coordinate with our new Tribune Logistica, here.”

Max’s jaw dropped open. “What ?”

Cymnea’s eyes grew very wide. “What ?”

Tavi arched a brow at Max. “Which word didn’t you understand?”

“Sir,” Magnus began, tone heavy with disapproval.

“We need a Tribune Logistica,” Tavi said.

“But she’s just-” Max began. He broke off, cheeks flushing, and muttered under his breath.

Cymnea turned a steady and unamused gaze upon Max. “Yes, Tribune. She’s just a… what? Which word did you have in mind? Whore, perhaps? Madam? Woman?”

Max met her eyes. “Civilian,” he said quietly.

Cymnea narrowed her eyes for a second, then nodded in accession, somehow conveying a mild apology with the gesture.

“Not anymore, she’s not,” Tavi said. “We need someone who knows what the Legion will require and who is familiar with our people. Someone with experience, leadership skills, organizational ability, and who knows how to exercise authority. If we appoint any centurion in the Legion to the post, it’s going to disrupt the century we draw him from, and we need every sword and every century.” He glanced around the room. “Does anyone have a better suggestion?”

Max sighed, but no one spoke.

“Then let’s get to work,” Tavi said. “This is what we’re going to do…”