Page 20 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

Servius had to shout the last because the noise outside was deafening. Thousands of legionnaires chanted Marcus’s name, but where once it had been to honor victory, now it was to demand his death.

Marcus remained sitting on the floor of the cell, listening to Felix and Servius argue about what to do, knowing how this would go.

Knowing that even if he had proof, it wouldn’t be enough to save him, because there was no hate more intense than one birthed from love.

If his friends tried to stop what was to come, they’d be painted by the same brush as he was and killed for their troubles.

Leaving the Thirty-Seventh entirely at Titus’s mercy.

Rising to his feet, Marcus swayed as dizziness hit him. He rested a hand against the wall of his cell until his vision cleared. Then he said, “Let’s get this over with.”

Felix broke off in his argument. “Pardon?”

“You think they won’t realize you tricked them?” Marcus asked. “You think they won’t kill you for it?”

His friends were silent, then Felix said, “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never once seen you give up.” His voice shook with anger. “If this is all it takes to get you to lie down and die, I fail to see why you bothered coming back at all.”

“To play my last card.” Shoving aside his exhaustion, Marcus squared his shoulders, knowing that he needed to make a choice.

Knowing that he couldn’t save everyone. “Above all things, a good legatus protects the lives of his men, and that’s what I’m doing now.

You are going to take me out there and give me to the Thirty-Seventh.

Then, with them at your back, you are going to take power from Titus and find those gods-damned xenthier stems so the Maarin can be freed. ”

Felix went pale. “But—”

“As a last favor to me: please free the Quincense ,” he said. “Tell them Teriana is with Senator Valerius in Celendrial. Also… tell Yedda to tell her that I’m sorry.”

For all that he’d done. And all that he would be leaving undone, for he knew they would cause her grief in equal measure.

“I’m not letting them kill you for a crime you didn’t commit!” Felix shouted. “I’ll tell them you’re innocent. That proof is coming!”

A loud bang echoed from the front of the building, and Servius grimaced. “They’re pulling out the door.”

Marcus’s heart hammered, sweat dripping down his back, and he gripped Felix’s shoulders. “They are past reasoning with, and you know it. If you stand with me, they’ll kill you.”

“So be it. I’m not condemning you.”

“Pull!” Gibzen’s voice filtered through the door. “Heave, you lazy sons of bitches!”

They had seconds before the decision was made for them.

Drawing in a ragged breath, Marcus pressed his forehead to Felix’s.

“I know I never said it. I know I never showed it. But I’ve always cared, and I’m sorry that you’ve spent all these years believing otherwise.

” Squeezing his eyes shut, he gripped his best friend hard.

“I won’t order you to do this, but for the sake of all that we have been through together, please promise to see this through. ”

A tremor ran through Felix, and Marcus heard him swallow hard before he said, “Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

The door on the building exploded outwards, light pouring in right as Felix twisted Marcus around, gripping his wrists. “Let’s do this, then.”

Gibzen rushed in, a dozen men on his heels, all with rocks in their hands. They slowed at the sight of them.

“Not only will you be fixing that door, you’ll be digging shit holes for the next year for this behavior,” Felix barked. “Outside. Now!”

Clearly having anticipated a different reaction, Gibzen blinked. “What are… Are you condemning him?”

“Obviously.” Felix’s voice dripped with irritation, and he shoved Marcus down the hall. “But this is legion justice, not satisfaction for your personal grudges. Now outside, or you’ll be digging those holes after I have you whipped for insubordination.”

Gibzen’s eyes narrowed, a low growl exiting his lips, but he slowly backed up out of the building. Whether it was vestiges of discipline or the promise of blood to come, Marcus didn’t know, only that the primus’s eyes were feral with rage.

And… grief ?

Marcus met Gibzen’s gaze for only a heartbeat before Felix dragged him past the other man, but the intensity in his expression was unnerving. Marcus had known they’d be angry, but this… this was infinitely worse than he’d imagined.

Forcing his eyes to the muddy ground, Marcus said under his breath, “Never tell them the truth. They can never know.” It was bad enough for them to believe he’d betrayed them. Worse still for them to discover he was innocent after the rocks and fists had flown.

Felix didn’t answer, only pushed him through the ranks of shouting legionnaires.

Men he’d known since they were children at Lescendor.

His brothers. The Thirty-Seventh was his family, but he hardly recognized them as they screamed deserter in his face, their hands already clutching rocks they intended to use to shatter his body.

His fear rose, for Marcus had seen deserters executed before. When the Thirty-Seventh were done, he’d be nothing more than bloody pulp mixing with the mud. You will do this, he ordered himself. You will show no weakness.

Because if he did, Felix might crack. If his friend broke, the rocks would turn on him as well.

Breathe. Just breathe.

They had reached an open space the legion used for training. Felix’s hands were like ice against his skin, his arms trembling, but he forced Marcus to his knees.

Stepping in front of Marcus, Felix held up his hand, and a lifetime of training caused the men to fall silent. “Legionnaire One Five One Nine, you have been found guilty of desertion. Do you have any final words?”

He met Felix’s gaze. “We do not fall back.”

The mass of men surrounding them snarled and seethed, their faces barely human. Their desire for blood barely checked.

Marcus allowed them to fade to a blur, keeping his eyes focused on Felix’s face. Seeing the tears pooling in his blue eyes, though his voice was steady as he said, “Then you are sentenced to death at the hands of those you betrayed.”

Bending down, Felix prised a fist-sized rock out of the mud, and relief tempered Marcus’s growing terror. Felix would make it quick, so that all else that was done to him would cause no pain.

The Thirty-Seventh was a mass of barely checked violence waiting for the command. Waiting for the order to enact the justice they believed they were owed. Marcus prayed to this world’s gods that they’d never learn otherwise.

I’m sorry, Felix mouthed to him, tears running down his cheeks. Marcus gave a tight nod, then closed his eyes.

And a familiar horn blew.