Page 178 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)
By the time Marcus made it through the packed streets, nearly every senator in the city was in the Curia. Some under their own free will, others clearly under duress, his men watching them weep and complain with unmoved expressions as they were ushered to their seats.
“This is embarrassing,” Servius muttered. “Some of them had to be dragged out from under the beds. Some of them tried to hide behind their young children. And these are the men who rule us all?”
“Golden pedestals,” Marcus answered. “Is everyone doing their duty?”
“So far. We’ve got the Fifteenth and Twenty-Ninth outside the city and under heavy guard. I don’t think the Fifteenth will be a problem, but Hostus left a stain on his men that I don’t think will ever come clean.”
“A problem for a later hour. Sign of Felix?”
“Not yet. Apparently his rat dug a deep hole, though he’s in pursuit. Forty-First is holding the perimeter around the Forum because the populace is frothing at the mouth. They’re angry, and if we let them, they’ll tear these men apart.”
“Tempting.”
“Isn’t it though? There’s something to be said for a clean slate.”
Except it wouldn’t be. Even if Marcus allowed every man in this building to be murdered, the wealth of the Empire remained in their families’ hands.
Sons and nephews and cousins would inherit, then rise to power, and they were likely the same caliber of men who sat on these benches.
“They are supposed to speak for the people, and those who actually do so will be elevated by Celendor’s citizens.
” His eyes flicked through the open doors.
Past Appius Valerius, who’d arrived without argument, to Tiberius Egnatius, who sat quietly in the front row, expression contemplative.
Now that he knew the truth, Marcus could see the similarities in his face to Agrippa’s, as well as the slightly darker hue of his skin courtesy of his Bardenese mother.
“The people see now that the Senate’s power is not absolute.
That they are beholden to the citizens, and I think that, more than any action we take, will hold them to task. ”
A commotion broke out, and a dozen Thirty-Seventh appeared, Felix at their head. A struggling man with a sack over his head was being dragged between them.
“Found him in a cellar near the harbor market. His servant was trying to bribe fishermen with boats to row him out to a ship. The fishermen turned him in.”
Pulling off the sack, Marcus looked into Cassius’s piggish eyes.
“You are going to pay for this, boy,” the Dictator hissed between broken teeth.
Felix had obviously taken Marcus’s orders that he be brought alive as not precluding injury.
“If you don’t back away from this now, I’ll see everyone you care about dead.
Your father and brother hanged. Your mother stripped of clothes and forced to walk the streets naked, your sisters along with her, and I’ll set the dogs on them.
You, I’ll kill last, and it will be a short rope.
Make the smart choice while you still can. ”
Felix lifted his arm to backhand Cassius, but Marcus shook his head. “Gag him and bring him in.”
The sack Cassius had worn was shredded, and his shouts cut off as a wadded-up ball of fabric was shoved in his mouth, another strip binding it in place.
Walking into the Curia, Marcus was struck by how much smaller it seemed than the last time he’d been here.
Nothing more than a small room set up like a theater with its tiered benches, the men filling them seeming smaller still.
A rostra sat upon the elaborately tiled floor, and atop it sat a golden throne.
The last Emperor’s throne.
Marcus stared at it for a long time as Cassius was dragged in behind him, the Dictator the only one making noise, for all the senators were silent.
Yet at the sight of Cassius, Lydia’s father leaned forward, his expression shifting from simmering anger to keen interest at the realization that Cassius was the target of all of this.
Tiberius rose to his feet, seeming to understand instinctively the role he needed to play here.
“I would have you explain your intentions, Legatus. You have committed treason by abandoning your post in the West, by attacking Celendrial, and by doing violence upon members of this Senate. Why are you here?”
Marcus inclined his head to Tiberius, then lifted his voice.
“Because the people are displeased. They are weary of being oppressed, of being trod upon, and of being taxed to fund a war they do not want. The Senate is supposed to be the voice of the people, yet its words are only to the benefit of the men in this room.”
“I asked for an explanation for why you are here, Legatus, not an explanation of the sentiment of the people.”
Marcus pulled off his helmet and let it fall to the tiled floor with a loud clang.
“Am I not a person, Senator?” Unbuckling his belt, he cast aside his weapons, then the pieces of his armor, until he stood in only a tunic and sandals.
“Am I not a citizen of the Empire? Cannot the reasons of the people be my reasons?”
“Curtail your theatrics, Legatus. You are no ordinary citizen, and removing the accoutrements of your rank does not change that fact. I would have justification for your actions.”
“You are correct, I am no ordinary citizen, for unlike every other citizen, I am indentured. Am, for all intents and purposes, a slave to the Senate’s will until I have earned back my price or until death liberates me, whichever comes first. I am less than an ordinary citizen, for I am not free, nor is any man in service to the Empire’s legions. ”
“Less?” Tiberius made a face. “You hold the power. You’ve made that clear to us with this performance. You control Celendrial and we are all at your mercy. Except unless you intend to rule by martial force, to name yourself Dictator, to name yourself Emperor, then you must still answer to the law.”
“And therein lies the reason I have returned to Celendrial, Senator. In answer to the call of the law.”
The senators were all leaning forward now, fear replaced with interest.
“Speak clearly.”
Marcus lifted one shoulder. “Is it not my sworn duty to uphold the laws of the Empire as determined by this senate?”
“It is. Yet you break them instead by disobeying the commands of the Dictator who represents us in this time of war.”
“I break no law, for I have no obligation to follow the directives of a man who holds power unlawfully.”
Ignoring the legionnaires training weapons upon them, the senators loyal to Cassius exploded to their feet, shouting in outrage.
Tiberius lifted his hands. “Silence! We will have order!”
The men returned to their seats, a few only under the prodding of Thirty-Seventh spear tips.
“Lucius Cassius was made Dictator by vote of the Senate, Legatus,” Tiberius said. “During times of war, it is the Senate’s right to suspend elections and elevate the power of the standing consul so that he might overcome the threat facing the Empire.”
“I do not question the Senate’s right to grant the consul a dictator’s powers,” Marcus replied. “However that consul must be lawfully elected by the citizens of Celendor.”
“Which he was. You yourself voted for him in the same performative manner as you are using now. It is not illegal for one to incite votes with the promise to take certain actions should one win office, which one can only assume was how Cassius secured your support.”
Marcus’s throat tightened, his gaze going to his father, who sat quietly in the front row. Their eyes locked, and his father gave the smallest nod of understanding.
“Cassius did not gain my vote, nor the votes of the Thirty-Seventh legion, with incentives,” Marcus said. “He gained it through blackmail.”
The Senate was silent for a shocked heartbeat, then they were again on their feet, shouting for explanations. Shouting that Cassius be allowed to speak.
Marcus watched Cassius squirm on the ground beneath Felix’s foot, the Dictator’s eyes murderous with rage.
And the voice, which had been quiet for so many long days, reared its head, for it was not entirely defeated.
Marcus doubted it ever would be. Silence him!
it screamed. You earned your power! Why should you concede it to these soft and perfumed men who’ve never fought for anything in their lives? Why shouldn’t you rule?
He pressed a hand to the tiny replica of the Quincense that rested against his chest, then nodded at Felix. “Ungag him.”
Felix obeyed, and Cassius scrambled to his feet, seething with anger. “Fool of a boy! Retract these false accusations and I might see fit to show mercy to you!”
Marcus tilted his head, staring into the eyes of the man who had done harm to so many.
Who’d used war to achieve ultimate power, happy to step on the backs of a hundred thousand corpses in his quest to gain the golden chair behind him.
For so long, he’d both hated and feared Cassius, but now as Marcus looked at him, all he felt was contempt.
“What was the nature of this blackmail, Legatus?” Tiberius asked. “Manipulating an election is a serious offense, and your accusation must be backed with details if we are to act upon it.”
Marcus only vaguely heard Tiberius’s question, because rising behind Cassius’s anger and bluster was fear.
Fear that seemed to shrink the man, making it hard for Marcus to understand why he’d ever seen him as a threat.
If Cassius revealed the truth that Marcus had kept secret for so long, it would condemn them both, and Cassius feared the consequences far more than Marcus did.
“Do it,” Marcus said softly. “Tell them.”
Cassius licked his lips, casting a sideways glance at the watching Senate. Yet he remained silent, still banking on his certainty that Marcus would do everything and anything to protect this secret.
“As you like.” Marcus cleared his throat.
“I am the son of your peer, Senator Domitius. Not his second son, but his eldest son, born under the name Gaius Domitius. My health was poor as a child, my longevity uncertain, so my father made the decision to switch my identity with my younger brother’s so as to retain his stronger son as heir.
Cassius learned of the deception, which is easily proven by any physician, and he threatened to reveal the truth if I didn’t arrange for my legion to vote for him and secure him the consulship.
Given the severity of the punishment for breaking the child tithe laws, I saw no path forward but to agree to his demands. ”
All eyes swiveled to his father, who rose to his feet. “All that my son says is the truth. My crime was the stepping stone that allowed Cassius to commit treason, and I will accept punishment.”
Marcus waited to feel something, anything , for his father finally taking responsibility for his actions. Yet all he felt was relief that his father had not attempted to fight him on this.
“Winning the election was not the end of what Cassius used this information to compel me to do,” Marcus continued.
“On Cassius’s orders, I drowned Lydia Valerius, daughter of Senator Appius Valerius, whom Cassius had promised to marry in order to gain Valerius’s support in the elections.
” He looked to Valerius, who met his gaze with an unblinking stare.
“Lydia survived, finding passage through the xenthier stem Cassius most recently used to send the Fifty-First to their deaths.”
Tiberius exhaled a slow breath, audible in the silence of the room. “What say you to these accusations, Cassius? For they are damning indeed.”
Cassius’s jaw worked back and forth, then he crossed his arms and glared in silence.
Valerius spoke. “Through other lips, I have heard this same story. That the legatus put my daughter down the drains of Cassius’s baths , only luck allowing her to survive and bravery to see her through to the far side of Reath, where she yet lives.
I would have pursued justice myself, but I did not think any of you would believe a Maarin girl over our beloved Dictator. ”
Cassius’s gaze was as cold as a snake’s, but he remained silent.
“I think all truths will come out in the trial, along with others I anticipate will be equally criminal in nature,” Tiberius said, then he looked to Marcus.
“We are all in your debt for revealing the traitor in our midst, Legatus, but it cannot be denied that you have implicated yourself as well. Not only in your role in manipulating an election, but perhaps more critically, in your breach of the tithe laws and your attempted murder of Lydia Valerius. You have right to trial, of course, but—”
“No need,” Marcus interrupted. “I plead guilty to all three crimes.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Felix stiffen, as did all of his men in the room, their shock twisting his stomach with guilt.
“All three crimes are punishable by death,” Tiberius said. “Given the extenuating circumstances, a trial might see—”
“I am guilty.” Marcus kept his hand pressed to the tiny ship, needing the courage it gave him for what was to come as he said to Felix, “The Thirty-Seventh is yours.”