Page 161 of Scorched Earth

Her people would be freed.

She’d done it. Done what Madoria had asked.

Yet as she reached the bedroom she’d taken from Gamdesh’s princess, Teriana felt a rising unease that the worst was yet to come.

59MARCUS

Marcus sat across the table, watching Grypus stuff his face with food being fed to him by one of the many young female servants he always kept around him. The young woman masked her revulsion well, but Marcus could see it in her eyes. In the way her jaw imperceptibly tightened every time the man touched her, leaving grease marks on the silk of her dress.

The same grasping hands Grypus had tried to touch Teriana with, and it took all of Marcus’s willpower not to draw his gladius and use the hilt to smash every one of the proconsul’s lecherous fingers to pulp.

“We can have another three legions here within the week,” the proconsul said, wine dribbling down his chin. The young woman wiped it away with a cloth, then refilled his glass. “We couldn’t have asked for a better staging point with Padria, it being a port. Food, weapons, men,women”—he leered at the servant woman—“all at our fingertips. Let the Gamdeshians scorch their earth. The only impact it will have is them starving themselves while we feast like the emperors of old.”

You sick piece of shit.Marcus’s jaw flexed, his control over his hatred for this man fracturing.

Running a finger over the map, Grypus added, “We could control Revat within the year. Governor of Gamdesh has a good ring to it.” He grinned, then took a mouthful of wine. “We will all be legends. And the gold…” He drained his glass. “You get your head on straight and some of that can go in your direction, Marcus. The Maarin girl has what she wants, which means she’ll be on her way. Might already be gone given the speed with which she sprinted out of the room.”

Marcus didn’t answer because he didn’t trust what he might say. Didn’t trust himself not to reach across the table and tear out Grypus’s tongue so that he might never speak Teriana’s name again.

Grypus belched loudly. “I was a fool when it came to girls when I was your age, boy, so don’t think I don’t understand it. The difference is that I was the heir to one of the greatest patrician families on the Hill, whereas you are property. I could do what I wanted, whereasyou, if you know what’s good for you, will do as you’re told.” His eyes flicked to Nic. “I’m sure you’ve seen the consequences of his weakness, so hopefully you’ll be wise and not make the same mistakes.”

“Yes, Proconsul,” Nic said, and Marcus’s irritation grew with the flicker of judgment in his eyes.

“Smart boy.” Grypus rested his elbow on the table, and said, “I’ve already begun putting things in order. My Ninth engineer brought enough black powder to make short work of the pagan nonsense looming over Emrant. He’s a man with talent—something of an expert when it comes to destroying unwanted xenthier paths, which he claims is all in the timing of the blast. He’ll have those towers down by now—I’m surprised we haven’t heard the explosions.”

Before Marcus could react, the ground trembled and a loudboomfilled the air.

Grypus cackled, but Marcus only closed his eyes for a heartbeat. This was only the beginning if Grypus remained in control.

He shouldn’t be in control.

The trembling ceased, and a cold breeze blew beneath the heavy door to fill the room.

“The Ninth is a legion that follows orders. Good men who understand the way of things.” When Marcus didn’t respond, Grypus made a face and slapped his servant on the thigh. “More wine, woman.”

As the woman poured, Marcus shifted his gaze to the map, feeling his control over the situation slipping between his fingers. With it was flowing the dream he’d had for such a precious short time. A dream where he wouldn’t be a blood-soaked conqueror but rather a peacemaker. A dream where Teriana didn’t get on theQuincensewhen it arrived in port but remained with him. A dream where it was her voice negotiating across the table from him on behalf of the West, and every night they’d fall asleep in each other’s arms.

He wanted that dream, wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything, and this gluttonous piece of shit was going to take it away. Grypus was the Senate’s hand reaching across the seas to move pieces and manipulate players to the Empire’s advantage, and Marcus hated him.

A rising tide of frustration and rage swelled in his chest. And the voice asked,Who is this man to tell you what to do? Who is he to ruin all that you’ve worked for?

“Austornic,” Marcus said softly, “would you please go ensure that the proconsul’s quarters are in order.”

Nic frowned. “Servius—”

“Is occupied. And I don’t want anything not to the proconsul’s standards.”

“I will have the royal chambers,” Grypus said around a mouthful of food. “No doubt they are base compared to what I’m used to, but I will make do.” He jerked his chin at the concubine. “Go with him. I want you waiting.”

Teriana’s rooms.

“Yes, Proconsul.” Nic was nearly at the door as Marcus added, “Please ensure those on guard know that we are not to be disturbed, under any circumstance.”

The boy gave him a curious frown but nodded and left the room, the solid oak door thudding behind him.

Grypus, Marcus noticed, was no longer chewing, but was instead watching him warily. “You have a matter you wish to discuss?”

“You might say that,” Marcus said. Then he was across the table, his hand closing around Grypus’s throat to silence the scream.