Page 98 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)
MARCUS
Returning to where his discarded tunic lay in a pile, Marcus donned it, along with his weapons. He allowed himself one glance out the window. His eyes found the blue sails of Teriana’s ship in the harbor, the wooden version of the hair ornament that adorned her braid.
A pang of grief lanced through his chest, but it was vanquished by an icy wind of composure that blew across his mind, extinguishing the rising tide of emotion as he left the room. “Who brought the Maarin boy into the tower?” he asked those on duty outside her doors. “And where is Gibzen?”
The men exchanged glances, then one said, “Legatus Austornic, sir. He put him in the antechamber there”—he pointed down the hall—“then came looking for you. We told him you were busy, and he said to tell you the Maarin boy was in there.”
Austornic was to blame.
A cold wind blew down the hallway, rustling the guards’ cloaks.
Is that a surprise? the voice asked. It’s not the first time Austornic used her against you.
The men shifted uncomfortably, the bare skin on their arms pebbling against the cold. “The Maarin boy was alone in the room. He must have climbed out the balcony. Sorry, sir. We didn’t think—”
“Where is Gibzen?”
“The Tribunus relieved him of duties, sir, but he was just here checking in. Might catch him on the stairs going down.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed at Felix’s overstep. “Go after him. He has work to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
Marcus walked down the tower steps to the room he’d designated as his center of command, barely pausing to note that it had been cleared of all evidence of Grypus’s demise.
He poured himself a glass of wine, then unrolled a map, setting markers on the edges to keep them from curling.
His eyes settled upon the largest kingdom of the north.
Mudamora.
Gamdesh was his priority, yet Marcus couldn’t tear his eyes from the northern kingdom.
Healer. Lydia was marked.
What she was supposed to be was dead. Drowned, her corpse lost to an underground river without end, time having eaten her down to bones.
But she was alive.
The sudden compulsion to remedy that fact washed over him like a wave, nearly driving him to his feet. Instead, Marcus moved his focus to the nation that stood between him and the northern continent, tapping a finger on the capital city of Revat.
The door opened, and Servius walked inside. “What’s going on with Teriana? You’ve got four legions of men all gossiping like village matrons because she was seen racing to the harbor like a pack of Sibernese wolves was on her heels.”
“Nothing of concern to us.” Marcus rested his elbows on the table. “Felix will deal with her.”
Servius was silent for a moment, then he said, “We have a Gamdeshian emissary here to speak to you. If you want me to deal with him, I will.”
“I’ll speak to him myself,” Marcus murmured. “I’m rather interested in what they have to say.”
Vaguely, he heard Servius give the orders to those outside, but his mind was all for the xenthier path Bait had revealed.
It would need to be excavated given the genesis was located beneath Celendrial, then it would need to be mapped to the Senate’s satisfaction.
Mudaire was reported to be overrun with blight—a dead city—which meant logistical efforts would be required before it was viable for heavy traffic. No use to Marcus now, but soon enough.
Take Revat, and you can move on Mudamora.
He eyed the terrain between Emrant and Revat. A strategy began to build of how best to cross the distance between the two cities, all the information that had been fed to him by spies and reports rising from where he’d stored it away.
Men were filtering into the room, now. Zimo and Austornic, as well as other officers and guards. Austornic was looking everywhere but at Marcus, his guilt palpable.
But guilt wouldn’t get him out of this.
Then a small Gamdeshian man entered, flanked by Gibzen and one of his men. His primus gave him a small nod.
“Legatus.” The Gamdeshian inclined his head. “I’ve been sent on behalf of His Most Revered Majesty, Sultan Kalin of Gamdesh, to negotiate your exodus from our territory.”
Marcus picked up his cup, taking a long mouthful while he regarded the man. “Is that what we are negotiating?”
“The Sultan has no desire for war, but to allow a foreign power to control a city full of Gamdeshian civilians is not something he’s willing to accept, especially after the wanton destruction of the towers of the Six.
If you do not withdraw, either to your homeland or to Arinoquia, the full force of Gamdesh’s military might will be brought to bear on your soldiers, and no quarter will be given. ”
“That doesn’t sound like negotiation.” Marcus set down his cup. “That sounds like a threat.”
The man stiffened, then gave a tight smile.
“Whether you retain control of Emrant is not up for negotiation, Legatus. The Sultan is willing to entertain the formation of a trade agreement between Gamdesh and Celendor, and he will allow a small force of your men and administrators to form an embassy within the city to facilitate mutually profitable trade for both nations.”
“Allow?”
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of the man’s face. “We have reason to believe that you’ve no more interest in war than we do. That you are a man who does not risk the lives of his men when words will achieve the same ends.”
“True.”
The Gamdeshian’s throat moved as he swallowed, and if Marcus had space for pity in his heart, he would have pitied this man who’d been sent to make threats by a ruler without the strength to back them up.
“The Katamarcans have suggested that your… Senate”—he hesitated on the foreign word—“is more interested in trade than control.”
“I’m afraid that was propaganda.” Marcus took another sip from his cup, feeling Austornic’s scrutiny.
“Lies, if we are being honest. The Senate desires profit above all else, but experience has taught them that the greatest profit comes through control. My purpose is to secure that control by whatever means necessary, whether it be words or war. So tell me, will the Sultan choose to surrender or will he choose to fight?”
“Surrender?”
“The Senate will offer Sultan Kalin and his family the opportunity to live in exile in a location of the Senate’s choosing, and of course he’ll be kept in the style to which he is accustomed. Should he choose to fight, he will be captured and brought back to Celendrial for execution.”
“Let’s not be hasty, Legatus.” Sweat now poured down the man’s face. “It need not come to threats.”
“Yet it already has.”
“You’re being rash.” The emissary lifted his chin. “Allowing pride and hubris to guide your tongue rather than good sense. You cannot hope to win a war against the full might of Gamdesh with the numbers you have.”
“How fortunate, then, that I can double my ranks in”—Marcus snapped his fingers—“nearly the blink of an eye. And let’s not waste time with you accusing me of posturing or bluffing.
The Maarin will have made clear to you that the men you see in this fortress are a mere pittance compared to the might that the Senate can bring to bear, should it feel inclined.
The Sultan will surrender Revat to my control, else I will raze my way north and take it by force. ”
He didn’t miss Austornic’s intake of breath nor how Servius’s hand moved to rest on the boy’s shoulder, cautioning him to silence. Zimo’s eyebrows rose, but the older legatus said nothing.
“The Six will not allow this incursion to stand,” the emissary hissed, his hands curling into fists.
“I don’t answer to the Six.”
You don’t answer to anyone, the voice in Marcus’s head whispered.
“You will soon enough,” the emissary retorted. “For when you lose and Kaira puts a blade through your heart, it will be the Six who stand in judgment.”
“Surrender.” Marcus rose to his feet. “Sultan Kalin must surrender Gamdesh to the Senate or I will take it by force. Ride quickly. And choose wisely.” He motioned to Gibzen, and the emissary was escorted from the room by one of his men. His primus remained.
“We’re going to need more legions,” Zimo said the moment the door shut.
“You can do it with an additional three, but I’d ask for four.
” He hesitated, then said, “I served under Grypus in Chersome over the past year. He was a right prick, and we all had a good laugh when we heard it was the olives that did him in.”
Marcus didn’t answer. Zimo was no more fooled than Felix, and he waited for Zimo to name the price of his silence.
“Grypus had a girl with him. An… acquaintance of mine, who has voiced a desire to remain in the West rather than returning with the rest of his servants. That going to be an issue?”
“She’s a free woman.” A lie, given Grypus’s women were always indentured, but Lucretia wouldn’t miss her and Marcus needed Zimo’s loyalty. Taking a sip of wine, he added, “I’d hurry, though. The Ninth will want to leave before rot sets in.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll make the arrangements now.” Zimo gave a sharp salute, then left the room, leaving Marcus alone with Austornic and Servius.
“Why are you threatening the Gamdeshians?” Austornic demanded.
“We marched the men to exhaustion and leapt through a dozen hoops to avoid a fight in taking Emrant, and you’re just going to throw it all away?
What happened to trying to secure peace between the nations?
To holding our position in Emrant and proving trade with the Empire was worthwhile?
We’ve barely unpacked and already you’re looking for the next fight? ”
“Nic,” Servius said, “hold your tongue.”
“Don’t.” Marcus went to the sideboard and poured himself another drink, watching the boy seethe. “If you’ve got something to say, then say it.”
Austornic hesitated, then he said, “I know you’re angry that Teriana left, but I’m not going to allow you to use my men in a quest to satisfy your spite over a girl!”
“ Allow .” Marcus sipped at his wine. “There is something about that word that I dislike. Particularly from a boy who has been meddling where he shouldn’t be.”
“I haven’t been meddling!”
“It wasn’t you who brought the Maarin boy into the tower and left him to his own devices? Left him to spy on conversations not meant for his ears?”
Austornic’s eyes skipped around the room, looking for support. “You gave the command for the Quincense to meet us here but no orders about keeping them away. I thought Teriana would want to see them. I thought you wanted her to see them.”
“You need to do less thinking and more obeying.”
Austornic blanched, but then squared his shoulders. “You answer to the Senate, Marcus, and they didn’t give you the order to take Revat.”
Get rid of him, the voice commanded. He’s caused you nothing but trouble. If not for him, Teriana would still be yours.
“You heard the late proconsul’s intentions, Austornic. His desire for us to make ready to take all of Gamdesh. And he was the voice of both Senate and Consul.”
“A goal you could delay if you wanted to,” the boy retorted. “In stead, you are stepping toward war before we’ve even received the order.”
Setting his cup down, Marcus circled the table, lowering his head to look Austornic in the eye. “I find that I’ve reconsidered your value to this campaign. War is no place for children, and it’s time you went back to Celendor where you can learn to obey.”
Austornic’s brown eyes went wide. “You aren’t serious? You’re going to punish my entire legion because I questioned your motivations?”
Marcus didn’t answer, only sat and waited for the understanding that there would be no arguing his way out of this to sink into the boy.
The flush of anger on Austornic’s cheeks slowly blanched. “Sir, please don’t send us back. They’ll put us under Hostus’s command. You know better than anyone what he’s like.”
“I know he doesn’t suffer anyone meddling in his business.”
“Marcus,” Servius protested, but Marcus held up a hand to silence him.
“This isn’t a negotiation. Fall to command and get your ranks through the xenthier stem.”
“Punish me,” Austornic blurted out. “Kill me if you have to, but don’t send my men away. Please!”
Servius caught the boy by the shoulders and steered him toward the door. “Live to pick another battle, Nic,” he murmured, giving Marcus a dark glare. “This isn’t one you’re going to win.”
Felix passed them as they exited, his brow creased with a frown. “The Quincense has set sail. You going to tell me what is going on?”
Marcus was already bent over the table, writing a letter directly to Cassius with an update, excluding any mention of the xenthier stem below the baths.
The consul would not take it well to learn that his betrothed was alive and location of the xenthier would suggest as much.
Besides, for all he’d used the revelation of the path to needle Bait, it was not currently a viable route.
Signing the letter, he folded and sealed it, then handed it to Gibzen.
“Make sure the Ninth packs Grypus’s corpse on ice and have them deliver this, directly to Cassius. ”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s it say?” Felix asked, his eyes narrowed.
“It’s a request for six legions,” Marcus responded. “Because very soon, the Empire will be declaring war.”