Page 83 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

TERIANA

The legions hummed with a different energy, a tense readiness that made Teriana feel as though static danced across her body.

She wanted to brush it off, to shirk the sensation, but it only grew worse as horns blew and the legionnaires tightened ranks, feet stepping in a rhythm pounded by dozens of drummers.

The noise was terrible, not only in volume but in what it promised.

“It’s an intimidation strategy,” Quintus said. “Kaira won’t lose her nerve but the people of Emrant might, if they are afraid enough.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then their army will either ride out to fight or will man the walls while we lay siege.”

Teriana glanced back at the trebuchet the oxen pulled, only one of the many war machines the legion carried with them. All things designed to pull down walls or go over them.

Endless scouts brought information to Marcus where he rode not far ahead of her in the company of Nic and Servius.

Close enough that she overheard some of their reports, and with Quintus interpreting some of the signals, she gathered that Kaira had heavily armed the walls of Emrant and arrayed the rest of her army before the main gates.

Seven thousand soldiers was the number she kept hearing.

An enormous host by most standards, yet smaller than the one Teriana rode with.

And a spec of sand in the numbers at the Empire’s beck and call.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The merciless rhythm of thousands of marching men took control of her heart, forcing it to beat to the same relentless pace, and nausea rose in Teriana’s stomach.

“Tell me how this will go,” she whispered to Quintus, trepidation overwhelming her.

“Tell me what he’s planning. Tell me what will happen. ”

“I don’t know.” Quintus’s whole body was tense. “I don’t think anyone does except for him.”

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It sounded like death was on the march, and Teriana could only imagine how those in the city felt, the very ground trembling as the legions moved ever closer.

Families hiding in cellars, clutching each other tight while those who could fight raised what arms they could to join the trained soldiers on the wall.

Gods… just imagining civilians trying to fight the legionnaires surrounding her made Teriana want to vomit.

It was not right.

It was not fair.

“Why didn’t Kaira evacuate?” Tears dripped down Teriana’s cheeks as she watched the vanguard disappear over the rise of a hill, war machines pulled by oxen trundling between the lines of men. “So many people are going to die, Quintus.”

“Evacuating a city this size is next to impossible,” Quintus said.

“Especially one that has never known a threat. People aren’t afraid enough to abandon everything they own, everything they’ve worked for, and by the time they realize that they’re going to lose it all anyway, it’s too late.

Either that, or Kaira has reason to believe she can win the fight. ”

A scout approached on horseback, falling in alongside Marcus. Teriana leaned around Quintus to watch them, heads bent together. Marcus nodded slowly at whatever information the legionnaire conveyed before the man sped north again.

“As anticipated, Kaira emptied the military fortress of Imresh, which is about three miles from here.” Marcus spoke loud enough for the officers around him to hear over the noise.

Loud enough for Teriana to hear, though she was not certain whether that was his intent.

“An extra thousand soldiers, whom we should see”—his horse reached the summit of the hill—“now.”

The officers stopped their horses on the ridge, Gibzen’s men forming neat ranks around them while the rest of the army kept marching onward. Teriana held her breath as Quintus guided his horse to stand at Nic’s left. Sliding off the side of the animal, she stared at the scene before her.

It was all she could do not to fall to her knees.

Emrant sat on the edge of the azure sea, the towers of the seven gods rising from the center of the city.

The tops of the city’s high walls were elbow to elbow with men and women.

Before the walls stretched ranks and ranks of Gamdeshian soldiers, their armor glistening in the sunlight, banners flapping on the breeze.

Teriana’s eyes went unerringly to the armored figure mounted on a black horse at the center, the Gamdeshian royal crest embossed in gold on her breastplate.

Kaira wore no helmet, and as Teriana lifted her spyglass, it revealed the princess’s dark hair fluttering in the wind, lovely face grim and unyielding in the face of the thousands of Empire legionnaires marching toward her.

On the water, the ten Katamarcan vessels with decks filled of legionnaires blocked the harbor.

But where were the Cel ships? Where was the Forty-First?

The question vanished from her head as Marcus said, “A bit of noise, if you would.”

Gibzen chuckled and said, “Put the fear of the Empire in their hearts.”

If Marcus answered, Teriana didn’t hear, because a second after a horn blew a series of notes, the marching men began to beat their weapons against their shields in the same rhythm, the voices rising in unified shouts.

It was wordless and terrifying, fifteen thousand voices promising death.

Row after row of them, and though she knew the legionnaires were flesh and blood, they looked to her inhuman. Like some many-headed beast that had come across the seas not in search of power and gold, but of blood.

And Kaira’s army seemed child-sized standing before it. Insignificant and pitiful.

Teriana’s heartbeat was a riot in her chest, a scream rising in her throat because she’d fought for this moment. This was the battle that would see her people freed but would be her damnation. She could not watch Marcus slaughter this city and then go on breathing. Go on living.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The horns blasted, the sound echoing like a god screaming his wrath.

The legions stopped marching as one.

And they fell silent.

The only sound was the whistle of the wind and the rustle of banners, the whole world seeming to hold its breath.

Then Marcus’s horse started down the slope, the Thirty-Seventh’s standard braced in his stirrup.

The legions parted ranks to allow him to pass, the golden mare walking sedately downward, Marcus’s crimson and gold cloak billowing out behind him.

“Shit,” Quintus muttered. “I haven’t seen him do this since Hydrilla.” From Servius’s muttered curses, Gibzen’s open-mouthed gape, and Nic’s expression of horror, none of them had expected this, either.

“What is he doing?” she demanded.

“Offering her the chance to surrender without a fight, is my guess,” Quintus said under his breath. “But he’s not supposed to do it himself. He’s supposed to send someone we can afford to lose. He’s… he’s also supposed to do that under a white flag.”

Teriana’s head snapped sideways at her friend’s tone, and she saw Quintus’s face was drained of color under his helmet. His blue eyes met hers. “If she tries to kill him, no one is close enough to stop her.”