Page 299 of Scorched Earth

“How will I know when the time is right?”

“You’ll know.”

“Yes, sir.” Qian hesitated, then said, “There are two legions in the city, though, sir. I might need a handful more men.”

“Don’t worry,” Marcus replied. “You’ll be the least of their concerns, and I trust you’ll be creative in discouraging escape. Remember, we are here to liberate Celendrial from its tyrant, not to spill more civilian blood.”

“We’ll see it done, sir.” Qian saluted, then he and his men disappeared on silent feet into the night.

The men began pouring through the stem, first by the hundreds and then by the thousands. They all quietly saluted Marcus as he and Felix deployed the legions in a perimeter around Celendrial, every man under orders to maintain utter silence until the moment was right.

“I can’t believe no one has noticed yet,” Felix muttered after the second hour. “Aren’t they scouting around the city?”

“I doubt it,” Marcus answered. “Celendrial hasn’t been attacked in over twelve hundred years, and its hubris has caused it to grow complacent. For who would dare to attack Mother Empire at her heart?”

“Teriana.”

Marcus smiled. “She taught a painful lesson, but it seems they have not yet learned.”

More hours passed. The first glow of dawn appeared in the east, reflecting off the branch of the River Savio that flowed before them, but men were still passing through the stem from Mudaire. Finally, the familiar voices of the Thirty-Seventh reached his ears, and Amarin came up between Marcus and Felix.

“You didn’t eat before you left,” his servant said with reproach. “You will not have a clear head if your stomach is empty.”

He held out an apple to Marcus, but instead of taking the fruit, Marcus leaned closer. “Thank you,” he said to the older man. “For everything.”

Amarin inclined his head. “Don’t thank me yet, sir. I’ve yet to discover whether my efforts were worth it.”

The corner of Marcus’s mouth turned up, and he said, “Accidents happen during these sorts of moments, my friend. Hearts give out. I anticipate being informed of your untimely demise in a few hours.” Reaching into his belt pouch, he extracted what coin was in there and handed it to Amarin. “I hear that the weather in Sibal is lovely this time of year.”

The older man pocketed the coins. “If you don’t mind, sir, my heart would like to see this through before it gives out.”

“Understandable.”

Amarin shoved the apple into Marcus’s hand, and then disappeared back through the ranks.

“We’re running out of time,” Felix murmured. “Hubris or no, there are men guarding those walls, and they aren’t blind. We’ve got minutes until they see that the whole bloody city is surrounded and raise the alarm.”

“Let them raise the alarm,” Marcus replied. “They’re not going anywhere.”

Leaving Felix to manage the influx of Thirty-Seventh, Marcus walked a hundred paces closer to the city, listening to his men form up behind him even as the light grew.

And the legionnaires guarding the city walls finally spotted the threat.

Marcus tilted his head, watching as first they stared, dumbfounded, then burst into action. Alarm bells rang, the noise spilling across the city as the sun crested the horizon. At last, Servius joined Marcus at his other elbow.

“Everyone is here?”

“To the man,” Servius answered. “Thanks for waiting. I didn’t want to miss the party.”

“We’re just getting started.” Marcus took a breath, the first flutter of fear for what was to come filling his stomach.

Vaguely, he heard, “It’s the commandant,” muttered through the lines behind him, followed by curses, because, apparently, Wex wasn’t alone.

The commandant of Lescendor rode through the Thirty-Seventh leading a white horse. The ground behind Marcus’s lines was no longer empty but filled with the thousands of boys being trained at Lescendor.

“Have you forgotten to watch your rear, boy?” Commandant Wex said, drawing his mount to a halt.

“I didn’t think anyone had noticed we were here.”