Page 171 of Scorched Earth

Then a small Gamdeshian man entered, flanked by Gibzen and one of his men. His primus gave him a small nod.

“Legatus.” The Gamdeshian inclined his head. “I’ve been sent on behalf of His Most Revered Majesty, Sultan Kalin of Gamdesh, to negotiate your exodus from our territory.”

Marcus picked up his cup, taking a long mouthful while he regarded the man. “Is that what we are negotiating?”

“The Sultan has no desire for war, but to allow a foreign power to control a city full of Gamdeshian civilians is not something he’s willing to accept, especially after the wanton destruction of the towers of the Six. If you do not withdraw, either to your homeland or to Arinoquia, the full force of Gamdesh’s military might will be brought to bear on your soldiers, and no quarter will be given.”

“That doesn’t sound like negotiation.” Marcus set down his cup. “That sounds like a threat.”

The man stiffened, then gave a tight smile. “Whether you retain control of Emrant is not up for negotiation, Legatus. The Sultan is willing to entertain the formation of a trade agreement between Gamdesh and Celendor, and he will allow a small force of your men and administrators to form an embassy within the city to facilitate mutually profitable trade for both nations.”

“Allow?”

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of the man’s face. “We have reason to believe that you’ve no more interest in war than we do. That you are a man who does not risk the lives of his men when words will achieve the same ends.”

“True.”

The Gamdeshian’s throat moved as he swallowed, and if Marcus had space for pity in his heart, he would have pitied this man who’d been sent to make threats by a ruler without the strength to back them up.

“The Katamarcans have suggested that your… Senate”—he hesitated on the foreign word—“is more interested in trade than control.”

“I’m afraid that was propaganda.” Marcus took another sip from his cup, feeling Austornic’s scrutiny. “Lies, if we are being honest. The Senate desires profit above all else, but experience has taught them that the greatest profit comes through control. My purpose is to secure that control by whatever means necessary, whether it be words or war. So tell me, will the Sultan choose to surrender or will he choose to fight?”

“Surrender?”

“The Senate will offer Sultan Kalin and his family the opportunity to live in exile in a location of the Senate’s choosing, and of course he’ll be kept in the style to which he is accustomed. Should he choose to fight, he will be captured and brought back to Celendrial for execution.”

“Let’s not be hasty, Legatus.” Sweat now poured down the man’s face. “It need not come to threats.”

“Yet it already has.”

“You’re being rash.” The emissary lifted his chin. “Allowing pride and hubris to guide your tongue rather than good sense. You cannot hope to win a war against the full might of Gamdesh with the numbers you have.”

“How fortunate, then, that I can double my ranks in”—Marcus snapped his fingers—“nearly the blink of an eye. And let’s not waste time with you accusing me of posturing or bluffing. The Maarin will have made clear to you that the men you see in this fortress are a mere pittance compared to the might that the Senate can bring to bear, should it feel inclined. The Sultan will surrender Revat to my control, else I will raze my way north and take it by force.”

He didn’t miss Austornic’s intake of breath nor how Servius’s hand moved to rest on the boy’s shoulder, cautioning him to silence. Zimo’s eyebrows rose, but the older legatus said nothing.

“The Six will not allow this incursion to stand,” the emissary hissed, his hands curling into fists.

“I don’t answer to the Six.”

You don’t answer to anyone,the voice in Marcus’s head whispered.

“You will soon enough,” the emissary retorted. “For when you lose and Kaira puts a blade through your heart, it will be the Six who stand in judgment.”

“Surrender.” Marcus rose to his feet. “Sultan Kalin must surrender Gamdesh to the Senate or I will take it by force. Ride quickly. And choose wisely.” He motioned to Gibzen, and the emissary was escorted from the room by one of his men. His primus remained.

“We’re going to need more legions,” Zimo said the moment the door shut. “You can do it with an additional three, but I’d ask for four.” He hesitated, then said, “I served under Grypus in Chersome over the past year. He was a right prick, and we all had a good laugh when we heard it was the olives that did him in.”

Marcus didn’t answer. Zimo was no more fooled than Felix, and he waited for Zimo to name the price of his silence.

“Grypus had a girl with him. An…acquaintanceof mine, who has voiced a desire to remain in the West rather than returning with the rest of his servants. That going to be an issue?”

“She’s a free woman.” A lie, given Grypus’s women were always indentured, but Lucretia wouldn’t miss her and Marcus needed Zimo’sloyalty. Taking a sip of wine, he added, “I’d hurry, though. The Ninth will want to leave before rot sets in.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll make the arrangements now.” Zimo gave a sharp salute, then left the room, leaving Marcus alone with Austornic and Servius.

“Why are you threatening the Gamdeshians?” Austornic demanded. “We marched the men to exhaustion and leapt through a dozen hoops to avoid a fight in taking Emrant, and you’re just going to throw it all away? What happened to trying to secure peace between the nations? To holding our position in Emrant and proving trade with the Empire was worthwhile? We’ve barely unpacked and already you’re looking for the next fight?”