Page 297 of Scorched Earth

“The return route is by way of the baths?”

Marcus nodded. “Cassius will have excavated it, but you’ll need to be clever to get back through it. The Dictator can’t know we’re coming.”

“Yes, sir.” Quintus drew in a deep breath, then reached out and took hold of the xenthier stem, instantly disappearing.

Enjoy your wine while you can, Cassius,Marcus thought as he started back up the tunnel.For the blade of the Empire is descending on your neck.

While he waited for Quintus to return, Marcus explored Mudaire, Felix and a handful of men trailing behind him but giving him enough space that he felt alone. As good a compromise as he was going to get, so Marcus didn’t argue.

He walked through the homes of the Great Houses of Mudamora, all sacked of anything valuable, though most of the artwork remained. He examined the faces, struck, as he often was, how people across Reath were so different and yet similar at the same time. He found the Calorian home, recognizable by both the familiar face in many of the portraits but also the quantity of horse statues. House Falorn also had a property, the smallest of the twelve, but it was there he lingered the longest, examining the oil paintings of Lydia’s parents. He wondered if she knew they were here. If she’d ever reclaim this place and the images of the mother who’d sacrificed her life to save her daughter.

“Still no sign of Quintus,” Felix murmured as Marcus exited the building. “Do you want to send someone else?”

“No.”

He started in the direction of the god towers at the center of the city, hearing Felix jog to keep up.

“Marcus, listen. I support this decision you’ve made, nearly everyone does, but that doesn’t mean we throw caution to the wind. We’ve got the largest army to walk Reath camped outside this city, and if this path isn’t good, we’re going to have problems. We quite simply don’t have the supplies, especially thewaterwe need to march back south. Even with the blight gone from the land, it’s still a dead zone. We need to make a plan.”

“It’s only been a few hours, Felix. Patience. Quintus will get the job done, as he always has.”

“He might be dead.”

“Patience.”

They walked in silence for a time, then Felix said, “May I ask you something?”

Marcus knew what the question would be, and at any other moment, he’d have run as hard and fast from it as he could. Instead, he nodded.

“You’ve never explained why you tried to murder Lydia Valerius. I assumed it was part of the same blackmail Cassius used to get us to vote him in as Consul—threats to the Thirty-Seventh—but recent weeks have made me question whether it was something more.”

His armor pressed the sharp edges of the miniature ship into his chest, but the pain was a comfort. The pain meant he was himself. “Cassius knew my name.”

Felix frowned in confusion. “Your family’s name?”

“No,” Marcus answered quietly. “Myname. And in knowing that, he had the power to make me do anything he wanted.”

The words were stilted at first, like turning the key on a secret so old that the lock had rusted. But once unleashed, they poured from his lips. The choices his father had made because of Marcus’s illness. The endless lies that had been required to keep the deception alive. The threat that Cassius had held over his head all this time.

Held over him still.

When Marcus was through, Felix rubbed a hand over his short hair. “I wish you’d told me. Wish you’d trusted me with that truth, but I understand why you didn’t. It was easier to live the lie when everyone, including your friends, believed it.” His best friend sighed. “So… Do you want us to call you Gaius?”

Marcus huffed out a disgusted breath. “Not if you want me to respond.”

Felix laughed. “Fair enough, fair enough.” Then his amusement fell away. “Marcus, if we go back, we need to silence Cassius before he says anything about this. Breaking the child tithe law is not something that will be forgiven—not by the Senate, not by the people, not even by the legions themselves. If it gets out, they’ll execute you.”

Unease seethed from his friend, and Marcus slung an arm around his shoulder to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Felix. Cassius’s crimes are great and his days are numbered.”

Felix left to check on the camp, but Marcus continued on. Hereached the circle of towers, which were large by most standards, if those standards didn’t include those that had once stood over Revat. Yet where Revat’s towers had had presence, these felt like lifeless stone. Marcus wondered whether it was because the focus of the gods was elsewhere, or whether something had been lost here. Whether it could be brought back, or whether the damage was as permanent as that he’d wrought upon Revat.

Hegeria’s tower was the largest in width of the seven, but as Marcus opened the doors of the entrance, a wave of rot passed over him and he quickly took a step back. A massacre had occurred here, and he closed the doors again, for this place, at least, truly was a tomb.

Servius approached. “I’ve bad news.”

Marcus’s stomach tightened.

“Someone stole your horse.”