Page 148 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

LYDIA

In the company of every Mudamorian who could fight, Lydia and her friends had ridden to join Dareena’s camp in the north.

It was a grueling march with little rest, made worse by her anxiety over what was to come.

Anxiety that grew worse with the rising stink of the blight.

Lydia was forced to remove her spectacles to wipe her watering eyes as the camp finally came into sight.

Though she desired rest and a meal, Lydia drew in her horse as the cry of a bird of prey caught her attention, and she looked up to see Astara’s familiar form circling overhead. Killian drew his horse in next to her. “Pray for good news.”

But prepare for the worst , Lydia thought as the shifter landed before them and approached.

“The legion ships remain in Revat’s harbor or on patrol.” Astara accepted the cloak that Bercola passed her, as well as a skin of water, drinking deeply before she continued. “They showed no signs of making ready, but from experience, they can move on the spin of a copper.”

“Speed and organization are Marcus’s greatest weapons.

” Agrippa toyed with the hilt of his gladius, eyes fixed south.

“They don’t need to prepare because they are prepared.

Unless Teriana has succeeded, Marcus will be making ready to move.

He’ll send a large force to secure a landing ground and then use his fleet to transport the men he feels he needs to achieve his goals.

That will slow them down, but not by much.

We need to act on the assumption that our allies have failed and move with equal speed. ”

Lydia had more faith in Teriana than Agrippa did, but she nod ded.

“Astara, when you are rested, can you travel north to gain us fresh information about Rufina’s numbers and position?

Only travel during the day and stay high enough that you are out of range.

What we need most is an exact understanding of Rufina’s forces around the stem to Deadground. ”

The Gamdeshian woman returned the waterskin to Bercola. “I’ll go now.”

Lydia could see the exhaustion written across Astara’s face.

The toll this was taking on her, for she alone could spy on the enemy from the skies.

Gripping her shoulder, Lydia said, “Rest. We cannot afford to lose you, and errors are made in the throes of exhaustion. Our forces are only just joining with Dareena’s, so we have no plans to act just yet. ”

Astara’s jaw tightened, her brown eyes flashing with defiance, but then she sighed and nodded, heading in the direction of the tents.

“Let’s find Dareena.” Malahi pushed a short blond curl off her forehead, her amber eyes shadowed with the same exhaustion that plagued everyone after the long ride north to join the main army. “All our information of what has been happening beyond the lines is old, and she will have fresh news.”

Lydia handed off the reins of her horse to one of their soldiers, Mudamorians, Anuk, and giants alike all trudging to join the sea of tents and cook fires.

Cheers rose from the lips of those who had lived long weeks, even months, in this camp, for Lydia’s forces had brought what supplies of food they could without depriving those in Serlania.

As it was, Lydia suspected that many of the oxen that pulled the wagons were not long for this world, for Dareena’s army all bore the hollowed cheeks of those who knew hunger and knew it well.

“We’ll rest tonight,” Killian said softly as they walked. “If we attack when the sun is high in the sky, the deimos, at least, will be at the disadvantage and we might have a measure of surprise.”

Xadrian fell in on the far side of Killian, the prince of Anukastre having grown even closer to him since the battle against the Thirty-Seventh. “I’ll see to my warriors,” he said. “Don’t do anything without me.”

“I’m not doing anything but getting rest tonight,” Killian muttered, but Xadrian’s eyes only narrowed, and he jerked his chin at Finn, who trailed after them carrying their bags. “If he looks to be doing anything stupid, fetch me.”

Finn only rolled his eyes and asked, “Who will watch over you for the same?”

Xadrian grinned and winked, then broke into a trot to join the Anuk warriors.

The tent that served as Dareena’s center of command appeared ahead.

Falorn falcon banners flapped on the breeze next to the entrance, and the woman herself stood with thumbs hooked on her belt.

“About gods-damned time!” Dareena shouted at them.

“I hope you brought something good to drink. We’ve had nothing but stale barreled water for far too long, and if I’m going to meet the Six, I want to have a proper drink before I do it. ”

Letting go of Killian’s arm, Lydia broke into a trot and flung her arms around her aunt’s neck. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Dareena squeezed her tight. “I heard that you put three hundred of that Cel bastard’s men in the dirt. Though I assume you have a good reason for pissing off the commander with an army ten times the size of ours?”

Unease pooled in Lydia’s stomach, and she glanced over her shoulder before she said, “Don’t say much about that in front of Agrippa. He knew them.”

“Such is war.” Dareena led Lydia into the tent, calling over her shoulder, “Finn, I see that you’ve resumed your duties. Go find us a bottle of something good in those supplies and be quick about it.”

With Bercola, in the company of Lena and Gwen, standing outside to ensure that no one would listen in on the conversation, Lydia and her company settled around the table and updated Dareena on their plan.

Her aunt rested one muddy boot on her knee and sipped at a tin cup full of wine. “You held up your end by buying Teriana time, but have you received any word that she was successful? Because if not, you’ve made a dangerous enemy for nothing.”

“He was already a dangerous enemy.” Lydia leaned her shoulder against Killian’s, desperately wishing for rest. “But either way, our eyes turn north. What news do you have?”

Dareena took another sip. “Rufina has not recouped her numbers in any meaningful way, but her camp remains fixed around the xenthier you claim leads to Deadground. Thousands of blighters, as well as her corrupted and deimos. The blight itself hasn’t pressed much farther—namely because we’ve become damned good at finding incursions and damming them—but the land beyond our barriers is a wasteland.

Burned trees and lakes of blight as far as the eye can see, which serve well to defend her position, because it’s hard to get close without risking soldiers being infected.

Impossible, in truth, unless one is marked, because you’ll have to wade through that sludge to get to the xenthier. ”

Lydia’s hands turned cold, and she looked up at Killian. His jaw was tight, and across the table, Agrippa muttered, “Well shit,” even as Malahi rested her head in her hands.

“I take it attacking in force was the plan?” Dareena asked, her eyes skipping around the group.

Sudden certainty that she’d erred in guiding them down this path struck Lydia in the stomach like a battering ram and bile burned up her throat, making it impossible to speak. It had been her idea to hold off on this attack in order to buy Teriana time, and now they’d lost their chance.

Killian cleared his throat. “Yes. We’d hoped for a direct strike with the aim of getting Lydia and Malahi to the stem. They know how to destroy the blight, but we need to get them to the source. Failing the xenthier, we need to go north to Deadground on foot.”

“That’s four, if not five, weeks of journey,” Dareena said softly.

And we could have been well into it if I hadn’t steered us down a different path. Lydia’s eyes stung, and under the table, Killian caught hold of her hand and squeezed. “Can we draw the blighters out?” he asked. “Move enough of them away that a targeted force might be able to reach the stem?”

Dareena gave a slow shake of her head. “Rufina knows that Deadground is your goal, Killian. She’ll defend it at all costs, because all she needs to do is hold her position and wait for starvation to take its toll. Her army is dead. She has all the time in the world.”

“We can’t win this.” Malahi lifted her head from her hands, scarred cheeks slick with tears.

“No matter what we do, the enemy seems a step ahead of us, and they grow more powerful by the day while we grow weaker. Why have the Six abandoned us like this? Why do they allow the Corrupter’s power to grow like this?

He gives his minions every advantage while we struggle on without. ”

Killian’s fingers flexed in Lydia’s hand, and she knew he was thinking the same thing as her. That they were supposed to be the advantage, but had thus far failed.

Agrippa rested his elbows on the table, eyes on the map of Mudamora before them. “It’s a roll of the dice, friends. Risk an attack with force to gain the xenthier knowing that many will fall to blight poisoning or ride north on the hope that we reach Deadground before Dareena’s lines are overrun.”

All eyes turned to Lydia, and she tensed. Though the crown was in her saddlebags, Lydia didn’t feel as though she were queen. In truth, she never had, and while someone needed to lead, in this moment, she didn’t want it to be her. “I…”

Bercola chose that moment to duck inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but there is some concern about our rear forces. Namely, that they are missing.”

Killian rose to his feet, and Lydia sensed the tension rising in him. “Have we sent riders looking for them? They’re only half a day behind.”

“Yes.” Bercola cleared her throat. “They’ve not returned either.”

Xadrian pushed past Bercola into the tent. “Something is wrong. I can feel it.”

The whole tent fell silent, but as Lydia’s eyes skipped from Xadrian to Killian to Dareena, every one of them with a hand on their weapon, a sudden certainty took hold in her chest. “Wake Astara,” she called to Gwen, who stood behind Bercola. “Tell her to scout south. Hurry.”

Gwen took off at a run, but Killian and Xadrian were on her heels. Lydia hurried after them, hearing her friends follow. In a silent group, they wove through to the southern end of the camp. Astara called out as she took flight and soared overhead.

The midday sun cast no shadows as they stood staring at the road leading south. The heat formed beads of sweat on Lydia’s back as she searched for any sign of motion. Any sign of their rear forces.

Then a wagon appeared.

There was no driver, the oxen pulling it in a meandering fashion up the road toward the camp. Then another wagon appeared over the hill, following the first. Then another, the loads of supplies they carried all covered with waxed canvas. But sign of the rest of Mudamora’s soldiers, there was none.

The sunlight shifted, and as the shadows moved, Lydia saw that the canvas was stained with crimson. “Oh gods,” she whispered, even as Killian and Xadrian broke into a run toward the wagons, weapons in hand.

She tore after them, a scream breaking loose from her lips as Killian drew back the canvas to reveal the bodies of their rear forces.

Bloodied and glassy eyed, all dead from violence.

From blades. And stabbed through the chest of one of the dead soldiers was a Cel gladius marked with a 37, a single piece of paper speared by the blade.

Killian pulled it loose, frowned, and then handed it to her. “What does it mean?”

Two words, in familiar handwriting. Lex talionis.

Agrippa took it from her shaking hands, cursing as he read the words. “It means eye for an eye. ”

Teriana failed. Oh gods, Teriana failed.

A hawk shrieked from above, and Astara landed, already shifting to her human form. “They’re here!” she gasped. “The Cel are here!”

“How many?” Lydia demanded, though in her heart, she already knew.

Astara’s brown eyes were filled with terror as they met hers. “All of them.”