Page 11 of Scorched Earth

Teriana lifted a calming hand. “It will be fine. I’ll be fine.”

Valerius grimaced but only clasped his arms behind his back as the door swung shut behind her, the dull thud echoing through the cavernous space.

Much like the exterior grounds, Cassius’s home was barren of life and color, though there was no doubt that he’d spent a small fortune on the construction. Carved busts graced every alcove, the sconces held oil lamps made of the highest quality glass, and the tiles underfoot were an elaborate mosaic of greys depicting the Cel dragon. Her footfalls echoed no matter how softly she trod, and Teriana found herself rubbing her arms against the growing chill. “Did he build his house out of solid ice?” she muttered. “It’s bloody freezing in here.”

The servant glanced at her as though she were mad, then said, “Quality construction keeps out the heat. The consul employs only the finest.”

In truth, the temperature seemed not to touch the man, nary a goose bump on his bare arms while Teriana was shocked that she couldn’t see her breath.

They pressed deeper into the villa, each step causing dread to pool deeper in her stomach.You can do this,Teriana reminded herself.You know what he wants. Know how he thinks. And you have a plan.

None of which prevented her heart from stuttering as the thin servant stopped before a heavy door. He knocked once, and at a muffled acknowledgment from within, swung it open.

Teriana took a deep breath and stepped inside. Her fear rose to a dizzying frenzy, but she drew in a deep breath and focused on the man before her.

Cassius lounged on a divan before a table of lacquer and gold, a delicate glass of wine held in one hand. The consul of Celendor was of perhaps fifty years of age, his short brown hair combed forward, and his blue eyes small and closely set. He wore the clothes of his office, a tunic and toga, with leather sandals strapped to feet that were strangely smooth. As though some poor servant had spent hours scrubbing and polishing his soles until they were as devoid of calluses as a newborn babe’s. Teriana found herself staring at them, not realizing that Cassius had risen until his feet started moving.

“Teriana, you are a vision.” He circled the furniture, and she held her breath as he gripped her shoulders with overly warm hands, then kissed both her cheeks. His lips were moist, and she fought the urge to scrub her sleeve over her face as he pulled back, eyes raking over her. “It is easy to see why Marcus has thrown caution to the wind. You are a rare beauty indeed, although not to my particular taste.”

“Too young?” She lifted one eyebrow even as every instinct told her torun.

“Too defiant.” He chucked her gently under the chin, leaving a smear of what she fervently hoped was masseur’s oil. “But in an ally, I admire your sort of spirit.”

“Oh, we’re allies now, are we?”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Teriana rubbed her hands up and down her arms, knowing she was out of her league. Knowing that he was probably ten steps ahead of her. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t get what she wanted from him. “I’m here to make a deal with you.”

“We already have a deal.”

“I have a deal with Marcus and with the Senate.” She lifted her chin and met his eyes. “I want to make a deal withyou.”

“I’m intrigued.” Circling back around to his divan, Cassius perched on the edge. He picked up a bottle of wine and filled two glasses. “Sit. Drink.”

Teriana sat on the chair on the opposite side of the table but didn’t pick up the glass.

Cassius chuckled. “Don’t worry, my dear. I learned many years ago not to, pardon my crassness, shit where I eat.” Picking up her glass, he took a sip and then smiled. “See? Perfectly safe.”

The last thing she wanted to do was drink anything he served, but Teriana also understood this game. She had watched her mother negotiate difficult deals all her life, and one always needed to be gracious right up to the point one was not. Picking up the glass, she took a sip from the side that didn’t have his mouth print, then set it back down. “You have good taste in wine.”

Cassius drank from his own cup, then pressed a finger to the side of his nose. “Would you like to know a secret?” Without waiting for her to answer, he said, “I have no palate for wine. Whether the bottle is swill or the costliest vintage, it makes little difference to my tongue. One of my failings, I’m afraid.”

Picking up the glass again, Teriana swirled a mouthful across her tongue. “The Lastura vineyards in Atlia. You could feed ten families for a year on the cost of one bottle that you don’t appreciate.”

Cassius smiled. “Shameful, isn’t it?”

The expensive wine turned sour on Teriana’s tongue, but she refused to be baited. She was here for a reason, so it was time she got to the point. “We both hold the power to give one another what we each most want. I propose a trade.”

“I’m listening.”

“I want my people freed. You want secure routes to and from the West so that you can send more legions in pursuit of conquest. Routes better than Bardeen and Sibern.”

Cassius sprawled back on his divan, letting out a sigh. “It’s not much of an offer, I’m afraid. Another path from Arinoquia to Atlia has been found.”

Her heart lurched, and it was with a shaking hand that she picked up a report that he gestured to. Her eyes skimmed over the words, which detailed finding the bodies of dead men floating in the middle of a lake by fisherman. They’d borne the fresh tattoos of path-hunters and each had a sealed letter from Titus. Teriana’s hand stopped shaking. “What good is a path that leads to the bottom of a lake? That’s evenlessviable than a path to the middle of Sibern.”

“Lakes can be drained.”