Page 21 of Scorched Earth

Pullo frowned at her, then muttered something to his men, who pressed onward, ignoring the bodies in favor of establishing a perimeter. They were nervous, a hint of fear on their faces, but none of them hesitated.

Nic caught hold of her arm. “We’ve another twenty minutes before the rest of the legion will begin coming through,” he murmured. “Twenty minutes on our own.”

What if she’d brought them into a death trap?

Teriana’s hands turned to ice as she surveyed the jungle around them, which was too quiet, like the animals and insects were all holding their breath. “What do we do?”

Bending down, Nic picked up one of the fallen Forty-First’s shields, handing it to her. “We hold our position until we are reinforced. Pullo knows his business, so we keep our mouths shut.”

The grip was covered in dried blood, but Teriana closed her hand around it and held up the shield to cover her torso as Nic tugged her back toward the xenthier’s scaffolding.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I brought you here.”

“By virtue of being born second, this was always in our cards.” His brown eyes skipped over the fallen men. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’re just children.” Children who had now seen the reality of the future they faced in mangled corpses being consumed by rot and flies. “This is no place for children.”

“Tell that to the Senate next time you meet with them,” he answered. “But for now, keep quiet.”

Teriana obeyed, staying crouched behind the shield, the only sound the drone of flies and the thunder of her heart. Her eyes jumped from corpse to corpse, part of her still terrified that Marcus was among them, but it was impossible to tell. It seemed like an eternity before Pullo backed toward them, face blanched but hands steady as he crouched next to his legatus. “The attack didn’t come from the xenthier,” he said. “Looks like their camp was hit first. The guards are all dead at their posts and there are signs of where they tried to form up before being overrun. Eighteen dead, all Forty-First, and if they took down any of the enemy, the bodies were removed. No signs of life, ours or otherwise. Should I scout farther afield?”

“No,” Nic responded. “Hold.”

Pullo lifted his hand and made a series of gestures that Teriana knew were orders, then he said, “No arrows, all blade work and fists, looks like. But some of the bodies… They’re wearing Forty-First gear but they’re old men. You know anything about the Forty-First recruiting, Teriana?”

All the blood drained from her face, terror rising in her heart as she realized what had happened here. “It was one of the corrupted who did this, Nic.”

She’d told the boy about the corrupted during their journey from Celendor to Bardeen, and though he’d heard her out, Teriana had known he hadn’t believed her. If his beliefs had changed upon seeing this carnage, the young legatus didn’t show it. “Hold positions. All that matters is keeping this ground secure for reinforcements.”

Every second felt like a lifetime as they waited, Teriana’s skin crawling whenever a fly landed upon her, because she knew what the wretched things had been feasting upon. Then footsteps thudded on the scaffolding, and Pullo was on the move. Running up the ramp, he barked orders at the arrivals, and though their hearts must have filled with fear, the Fifty-First obeyed with no hesitation.

Hundreds, then thousands of legionnaires exited the path, the area around the terminus swiftly deemed secure enough that she and Nic were able to move about. Teriana forced herself to look at each of the bodies to make sure they weren’t Marcus as Pullo led her and Nic to the Forty-First’s camp, which was torn apart and splashed with blood and gore.

For all the Fifty-First had been trained for this, more than a fewof the boys vomited at the sight, the stink and horror and adrenaline more than they could bear.

“Here’s one.” Pullo pulled the cloak covering the face of the corpse down to reveal a wrinkled face splattered with blood, the eyebrows above his unseeing eyes as white as snow.

Even so, Teriana recognized him because of the tattoo of a bird on one of his biceps. “His name is Florius. Absolute shit at cards. He’s… eighteen.”

“Eighty seems more accurate.” Pullo covered the corpse again. “Are you suggesting one man did this, Teriana? Took downeighteentrained legionnaires without injury?”

“Injury means little to the corrupted. They just steal life,” she said. “They use it to heal themselves.”

“Fuck me,” the young primus muttered, and she had to curb the urge to tell him to watch his language.

“They’ve been dead for some time, judging from the decay.” Nic surveyed their surroundings. “Any sign of Marcus?”

“No, sir. But the timing of this couldn’t be coincidence.”

“Logbook?”

“Still looking, sir.”

Numb, Teriana moved about the camp, seeing that they’d been in the midst of cooking dinner when they’d been attacked, the pot of food overturned and rotting into the mud.Where are you?she silently asked.Are you safe?

A foolish question, because how could he be?

“Sir! We found it!” One of the boys ran up, handing Nic a leather-bound book smeared with blood. As he opened it, a letter fell free to land on the ground. Bending to pick it up, Teriana read the contents. “It’s signed by the Commandant,” she whispered. “Marcus was here.”