Page 31 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

MARCUS

A hand roughly shook his shoulder, and Marcus cracked one eye, finding Racker’s face mere inches from his. “You’re an idiot.” The surgeon’s dark brown eyes gleamed with anger “You deserve to be dead.”

“Noted,” Marcus rasped, his mouth dry as sand.

Shoving himself up on one elbow, he blinked to clear his vision, annoyed to discover that Racker, Felix, Amarin, and Servius had all entered his room without him waking. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

Cursing, Marcus tried to stand, but Racker shoved him back down on the cot, surprisingly strong given he was skinny as a rail.

“Sit. I’ve heard all about your genius choices, and according to every study done by the collegium, you should be a mindless body on the floor.

That you’re alive is one of the greatest strokes of luck I’ve ever seen.

That you are coherent is a bloody miracle that I can’t begin to explain. ”

Marcus didn’t disagree, but the last thing he wanted was anyone to question his capacity to lead. “It was much worse previously, but I’m fine now.”

“Headache? Dizziness?”

“No,” Marcus lied, because the room around him was swimming. “I’m fine.”

Racker held up one of his specially designed lamps with mirrors that shone light through a narrow hole, the beam stabbing Marcus in the left eye and making him wince. Racker scowled. “You’re normally a better liar, sir.”

“Careful, Racker. I’m in no mood.”

“When have I ever given a shit about your mood?” Racker handed his lamp to Amarin.

“You’re not fine. At best, you are looking at weeks of recovery.

At worst, you may never recover, and the headaches, dizziness, and sensitivity to light will forever plague you.

If I thought you’d listen, I’d tell you to spend the next week in here, in the dark. Except you never listen.”

“Then don’t waste your breath.” Marcus pushed him out of his way and rose. “I’ve work to do.”

“You also have well-trained minions and a legion sick with guilt that is desperate to please,” Racker snapped, using his superior height to loom. “Let them do what they do so that when you’re actually needed, you can do what you do.”

Except with only six months to achieve the impossible, that time was now. “I’m fine. Felix, report. Amarin, something to eat. Servius, I know you have more important things to do, so do them.”

Racker leveled a finger at him. “You’re not immortal. If you don’t show some level of care, you’ll be no good to anyone. You should be dead. That you are not must be by the grace of the powers of this land, so I would not tempt their ire with stupidity.” Then he strode from the room.

Unbidden, a blurred memory of Zaide… no, Ashok filled Marcus’s mind, his hair snow white and face ancient as he said, You’ll live.

Had the corrupted done something to bring Marcus back from the brink of death?

According to Teriana, each god granted a specific power, and individuals could only be marked by one god.

Hegeria’s gift was healing. The Corrupter’s was death.

You could ask her.

He shoved away his mind’s suggestion. Shoved away all thoughts of Teriana because he needed to focus.

Except his heart cared nothing for focus, plaguing his vision with images of Teriana’s face as he’d pushed her away, her eyes dark storms of hurt at his words.

“He’s right that we have everything sorted,” Servius said. “I don’t think anyone will question if you choose not to attend the funeral.”

“I’ll attend,” Marcus muttered. “Give me an hour.”

Felix waited until their friend had left, shutting the door behind him before he said, “Nic says that just before he left, he learned that one of the stems Titus sent hunters through terminates in Atlia, albeit at the bottom of a lake. Not viable for travel until the engineers can drain it, which is a good year’s worth of work, but we can send messages through it in the meantime.

I’d suggest that we inform the Senate you are back in command and request additional reinforcements by way of the Bardeen stem.

If we’re going to do this, then we need to do it right. ”

Marcus took a mouthful of water, disliking not being the best informed. “Let me think on it.”

Felix shifted his weight from heel to toe and back again, his unease obvious.

“It’s good to have you back in command, Marcus.

I know you like the politics, but for me, it’s the purest form of misery.

That said, Racker’s right. Better you rest now so that you can do the heavy lifting when you’re needed. ”

There was no one he trusted more than Felix, yet the lie still slipped from his lips. “I’m fine.” Partially to keep his friend from pressing and partially because he was desperate for answers, he asked, “Did the centurions’ search turn up any evidence as to whom Titus was paying to spy on me?”

“Not enough to make accusations,” Felix answered.

“I spent last night going through reports on the contraband they found on their men. More than a few had Cel coinage on them, but it was mostly silver and copper. A handful had dragons, but none with Cassius’s face on the back.

And before you ask, I personally inspected all the officers, and the results were the same.

” He cleared his throat. “Titus had a small chest of gold in his tent, which I confiscated without argument from the Forty-First. They… are taking my interim leadership better than I’d anticipated. ”

“I suspected they might. So whoever was on the take either spent the coins or had the wherewithal to hide them outside of camp.” Not entirely surprising. “I’ve set Gibzen the task of hunting down information. He always seems to know everyone’s dirt.”

Felix tensed. “You’re willing to trust him? In case you’ve forgotten, he was leading the charge to beat you to a pulp for desertion. I was anticipating that you’d request a demotion for his behavior. A demotion, for the record, that I’d support.”

Felix had never supported Gibzen’s promotion to primus in the first place, so this was no revelation.

“That’s one of the reasons I trust him for this.

He volunteered for punishment, but instead, I gave him an opportunity to make it up to me.

You know how his brain works—doesn’t like owing anything to anyone.

He’ll feel compelled to deliver. Doesn’t hurt that it was his men who were killed and injured as a result of the traitor’s actions. ”

“Agrippa’s men.”

Marcus blinked, then looked to Felix askance. “Pardon?”

“The men Gibzen had watching over Teriana the day she was kidnapped were the last of the men in Gibzen’s century who were chosen by Agrippa,” Felix said.

“Probably because they were the only ones you could reasonably trust around her. Now his hundred men are fully of his selection. The nastiest dogs in the Thirty-Seventh, and every one of them was behind Gibzen with stones in their hands, eager to cave in your skull. That’s your bodyguard. ”

That fact should have alarmed Marcus, but it didn’t.

Instead, the idea that his back was guarded by men who cared so much about loyalty to the Thirty-Seventh that they’d been willing to kill anyone who betrayed it made Marcus feel not only safer but validated in his choice to put Gibzen on the hunt. “Have they been out of line?”

“No.”

“Have they been doing their duties?”

Felix sighed. “Yes.”

“Then we have our answer,” Marcus said. “I’m not punishing them. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Marcus—”

He cast a sideways look at his friend, cutting him off.

“I know what Gibzen is, Felix. He might be a mad dog, but he’s my mad dog and has been since we were in Lescendor.

He knows better than to bite the hand that feeds him.

” Then, because he didn’t want to be at odds with Felix, he added, “If he steps out of line, we’ll revisit this conversation. But not today.”

“Fine.”

Amarin chose that moment to return, sparing Marcus any further arguments as he set to eating food he had no appetite for while listening to Felix’s update on less confidential matters, which was a mixture of good and decidedly bad.

Titus had carried on the negotiations Marcus had started with Katamarca, securing an alliance with the nation’s queen.

Except he’d also gotten greedy and broken Marcus’s carefully forged alliance with Ereni.

The Arinoquian imperatrix was now allied with the inlanders she’d once fought against. The combined force was what had cost so many legion lives when Titus had pressed inland.

There was more information, endless information, and his head began to pound as he mentally compiled a list of things that would require his attention.

But first Titus needed to be put to rest.

“I want everyone not on duty assembled for the funeral.” Marcus took his weapons belt from Amarin and buckled it on himself, using the opportunity to secret the vial of narcotics into his belt pouch so Amarin wouldn’t find it.

“Titus will be treated with every respect. He was an ass and none of us liked him, but he was no traitor.”

“Understood.” Felix stepped outside, his mutters of mandatory and will have their asses whipped filtering through the doors as he gave the orders. When he returned, he asked, “What are your plans for Teriana?”

Her face flashed into his mind, passionate and beautiful, making his heart feel like a weight in his chest.

“I gave her the choice of remaining in the camp as our guest or sailing to the island where her crew is staying to be with them. She chose to stay.”

“In a tent with Quintus?”

“That was the agreement.” Taking his helmet from Amarin, Marcus pushed it down on his head, the smell of steel filling his nose as he motioned for his servant to depart.

When he was alone again with Felix, he added, “Along with her commitment not to attempt to interject herself into our strategy. And to stay away from me.”