Page 90 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

MARCUS

He slept for two days straight, his last moments of consciousness filled with the distant cheers of the legions shouting his name—they, at least, saw this as a victory.

Marcus wasn’t quite ready to cheer just yet.

“Look straight at me,” Racker ordered, and Marcus dutifully looked the surgeon in the eye. Racker grunted, then said, “Amarin, you searched everything?”

“Yes.” His servant gave Marcus a dark glare. “And I’ll do so twice daily until you tell me otherwise.”

With no parting words, the surgeon left, and Marcus walked to the table where Teriana sat with a mountain of food before her. “I cooked,” she said. “I’m sick of cold porridge and the kitchen here is well stocked.” Then she frowned. “Perhaps you might consider hiring a proper chef.”

“That’s not really how we do things.” He took a bite of some sort of grilled meat. The spices on it instantly made his eyes water. “Although I might consider it.”

“You’re an ass.”

He smirked before downing a mouthful of water. “That’s unlikely to change.”

Teriana only rolled her eyes, then ate a forkful of eggs from her own plate.

While he’d been asleep, Felix had given her the royal suite of rooms, and Teriana had apparently availed herself of the much-discussed bath.

She smelled of lavender, all the dust and grime washed clean of her long black braids, the tiny ship woven onto one of them resting against her right cheek.

She wore a dress made of bright blue linen trimmed with an elaborate pattern of golden thread, the fabric ever-so-slightly sheer, which he’d noticed when she’d walked in front of the window, the outline of her legs tantalizingly visible.

Her eyes were a brilliant blue of nearly the same hue and the waves rolling across their depths were calm, although the color deepened to indigo as she caught him staring, her cheeks coloring.

“I found it in the wardrobe,” she said. “Thought it would do until I could secure new clothes.”

“Take whatever you want.” The pleasure Marcus felt over seeing her in the spoils of victory was not anything he’d admit, but he felt it anyway. “Everything in that room is yours.”

“Temporarily,” she said. “I’ll pack up Kaira’s things and arrange for them to be sent to her.”

Marcus highly doubted that the princess cared about dresses, and after that pointed threat to Teriana, he wasn’t inclined to allow Kaira within a hundred paces of her, but he only said, “Let me settle things with the Senate first.” He coughed on an extra-spicy mouthful.

“If I survive eating this breakfast, that is.”

Teriana flipped up her middle finger on the hand holding her fork, but there was laughter in her eyes. If her smile was the last thing he ever saw, Marcus swore he’d die happy.

This could be your life, a voice whispered up from his thoughts. Once the Maarin are freed, Cassius can’t use them as leverage against you. You hold the power here, which means the rules are yours to make.

His mind drifted as he ate, imagining going to bed with her in his arms every night and not having to hide it. Spending each day united in purpose, keeping the peace between the Empire and the West.

For how long? And how much will it cost you?

He shoved away the thought. This victory would bolster sentiment toward Cassius enough to ensure the citizens would vote him in for another term, and with trade from Katamarca, Arinoquia, and southern Gamdesh filling Senate coffers, they’d be content with what they had.

He could make a life that didn’t endlessly revolve around war, and his mind’s eye filled with a future that he’d never dreamed possible, every vision with Teriana at his side.

When is the Senate ever content with what they have?

The answer was never, but what could they do if he held the gates between East and West?

Tell your secrets.

Teriana had absolved him.

Are you sure?

He wasn’t.

She doesn’t even know your real name…

The fork slipped from his hand to clatter against the plate, and Teriana jumped.

“You all right?”

“Fine.” He covered his reaction with a sip of water, appetite gone. “I should hear what Felix has to say. Amarin?”

“I’ll fetch the Tribunus, sir.”

Felix must have been on his way, because moments later, he appeared in the door. “Looks like all you needed was a feather bed,” he said, then inclined his head to Teriana. “Morning.”

Marcus gestured for him to sit, and Felix waved away Amarin’s offer of food.

“The civilians haven’t caused us much in the way of trouble.

Seems your Katamarcan propagandists did their duty spreading word of the virtues of trade with the Empire, though we’ll want to make good on that soon to keep the peace.

Buy up everything they sell so that they’re too busy counting their coins to worry about the Senate’s longer game. ”

“Tell Servius to start spending,” Marcus said. “What did you find when you opened the casement around the Emrant terminus?”

“Was a thing straight out of anyone’s nightmares,” his friend replied.

“Wex’s smoke explosion cracked open the extra stone they’d put in place, and when we pulled it open, it was still full of corpses.

Some were nothing more than bones, but a few were fresher, all carrying path-hunter gear.

The insides of the walls were covered with scratches from dozens of men trying to chop their way out, though with all the bodies, they had to have known their fate the moment they arrived. ”

“An awful death.” Teriana pushed away her plate. “Why would anyone volunteer to map a stem when that’s the risk?”

“Gold,” Felix said. “The answer is always gold.”

“It’s all cleared out now, though?” Marcus asked. “Secure?”

“Yes, the Senate has sent no fewer than six pairs of mappers back and forth to prove it’s good.”

Marcus tensed. “So it’s done? We’re good? Cassius is happy?”

“Not quite.” Felix cast a sideways glance at Teriana. “They’re sending us a senator to serve as governor.”

“Gamdesh is not a province, and one city doesn’t need a bloody governor.” Marcus was on his feet though he didn’t remember standing. Already it was happening. Already the Empire was flexing its muscles of control. “Who?”

“Grypus.”

Of course it was him. Why wouldn’t it be, with Hostus rearing his head and all of Marcus’s old enemies coming back to haunt him? “Please tell me this is a jest?”

Felix shook his head, and Teriana said, “Who is Grypus?”

“A bloody pain in the ass is what he is,” Marcus muttered, circling the room.

Drinking from the glass of water Amarin had poured for him, Felix said, “Senator Plotius Grypus. He was the proconsul lording over us while we were in Bardeen, which meant he took credit for the taking of Hydrilla. The man looks like a potato with legs and fights about as well, but he’s got a taste for war, so he is often sent where the fighting is thickest. Zimo mentioned in passing that Grypus was in Chersome, but I guess even that wasn’t far enough from Lucretia. ”

“Who’s Lucretia?” Teriana asked. The calm seas had turned turbulent, blue fading to grey.

“His wife,” Felix told her. “Grypus likes to keep something of a harem of women about him, and she puts a damper on that. Fortunately she’s got a patrician’s taste in all things, so she won’t go anywhere that doesn’t meet her exacting standards.”

“Right,” Teriana said, and Marcus felt her gaze tracking him as he paced. “Marcus, do you care to elaborate on why you’re so unhappy about this particular man, or should I ask Felix?”

They were all a problem. Every last cursed individual living atop Celendrial’s mountain of wealth, and every last one of them would try to stymie Marcus’s plans. But Grypus—“Because he’s not stupid!”

Teriana lifted her teacup and took a mouthful, then raised an eyebrow. “I see.”

Sucking in a breath to calm his temper, Marcus rested his hands on the back of the chair he’d been sitting in. “Most patricians are inbred imbeciles.”

“ You’re patrician.”

Felix choked on his water, then covered his mouth to contain a mixture of coughing and laughter.

Marcus glared at him, then refocused on Teriana. “Grypus isn’t just smart: he’s clever, ruthless, and he knows me.”

Which was likely the real reason Cassius had chosen him.

“You know him, too,” Felix said. “He’s worked with you rather than against you in the past, so there is no reason he won’t be amenable again. Either way, he’s arriving in a matter of hours, so we need to go into the city to meet him.”

Abandoning the table, Marcus went to the balcony and breathed in the fresh air. Below, his men were going about their assigned duties, but his eyes were all for the sea in the distance. He searched it for familiar blue sails but saw nothing but Cel and Katamarcan vessels.

He’d hoped for more time. Time to focus on the immediate complications before turning his eye back to the problems breeding in Celendor, but the Empire moved with the speed of a plague, meaning he’d be fighting a two-fronted battle from the moment Grypus arrived.

He’s going to ruin your plans.

He’s going to take control.

He’s going to drive her away from you.

The voice in his head was so loud it made his skull throb, and Marcus pressed fingers to his temples, desperate to silence the voice and its endless fucking orders.

The voice went quiet, his mind still, and then it softly said, It doesn’t have to go that way. You command the legions. You could make the Empire bend to your will.

It was madness to consider. And yet…

You are the one in control. You are the one who will decide how this will go.

Schooling his face, Marcus turned back around to face them. “We should get ready to greet him.”