Gilded Serpent Danielle Jensen (i can read with my eyes shut .TXT) 📖

learning the location of the xenthier stems leading to the Dark Shores. And the stem leading back.” Marcus’s smile was cold. “We two are the only individuals with that particular piece of information. It will be hard to claim Titus’s glory if no one ever learns of it.”

Hostus shifted his weight, his blade digging into her flesh and then easing up again. “Here’s the thing, boy. I heard a little rumor that you couldn’t stomach this one”—he pulled harder on her hair—“being put to the question the first time. So I think you’ll tell me everything I want to know if I get to work on her. Am I right?”

Marcus shrugged. “You’ll only kill her anyway.”

Negotiating with this bastard was a waste of time, and Teriana knew it. The commander of the Twenty-Ninth wanted to kill them far more than he feared the consequences of doing so. There wasn’t a chance of him letting them go.

“That’s true,” Hostus replied. “But I think you’ll tell me what I want to know anyway. Carmo, get me my tools.”

Taking a deep breath, Teriana envisioned Felix’s instructions.

And she moved.

 92MARCUS

Teriana reached up and caught hold of Hostus’s wrist, and Marcus’s stomach plummeted. Because Hostus was trained, and Teriana—

She dragged his arm down, pressing it against her chest and then twisted, pushing the blade into Hostus’s chest. It clanked against the metal of his breastplate, but it was enough to startle him backward. Teriana hooked his ankle with her own, Hostus landing hard on his ass.

Hostus cursed, but Teriana was already behind him, blade against his throat.

“This is how it’s going to go.” Her voice was cool and composed, but the wild waves of her eyes betrayed her fear. “You lot step away from Marcus. Then you clear a path out of this camp, or your legatus is going to find himself bleeding out all over his fancy carpets.”

“If you kill me, they won’t let you go.” Hostus spoke to Teriana, but his eyes fixed on Marcus, the rage terrifying in its familiarity.

“Won’t make you less dead.” Teriana pressed the knife harder. “How much farther do I have to slice to hit your jugular? Not much, is my bet.”

Hostus didn’t reply, only stared Marcus down. Because they both knew this wouldn’t work. The older legatus was devoid of fear but flush on pride—he’d die before conceding. Marcus and Teriana would both have a dozen crossbow bolts embedded in their backs before they were halfway across camp, and if she slit Hostus’s throat as she fell, it was a risk the other man was willing to take.

There was no way out.

“What is going on here?” a familiar voice barked from behind him, and it was all Marcus could do not to twist around and give a smart salute.

“Commandant.” Hostus didn’t give the order for his men to stand down. “I’d salute, but the girl here has me in a delicate position.”

“One you no doubt earned.” Commandant Wex circled in front of Marcus, his eyes widening in recognition. “Get your weapons off him, you bloody fools! And sheath them while you’re at it.”

“Yes, sir,” they all responded, sheathing their weapons. Wex rounded on Hostus and Teriana. “Put down the weapon, lass. Whether the fool earned the cut or not, you kill him and you’ll hang.”

Teriana didn’t move, her eyes flicking to Marcus. He nodded. “It’s fine.”

For a heartbeat, he wasn’t certain she intended to listen. Then she skipped away from him, moving to Marcus’s side. “Nice blade,” she said. “I think I’ll keep it.”

Hostus said nothing as he rose, but his eyes promised death.

“I’m no small amount surprised to find you here, Marcus.” Wex crossed his arms, looking him up and down. Mostly up, because the commandant of Campus Lescendor was a good head shorter than Marcus, his hair brilliant white against his dark brown skin. But what he lacked in height, he made up for in undeniable authority.

“I succeeded in the first stage of the mission to the Dark Shores,” Marcus answered. “I’m here to give a report to the Senate.”

“Yourself? Alone?”

“Not by choice.”

Wex frowned. “I’m sure that’s a story to tell.” His attention went back to Hostus. “And for what reason was he not given an escort to Celendrial?”

“Look at him, sir. We thought—”

“Oh, be quiet.” Wex spit an impressive glob onto the Bardenese carpet. “I know the answer, and I’m not interested in your lies.” He stared at Hostus, then shook his head. “I need to have a discussion with you about other matters, but it will have to wait in favor of this.” Then he offered Teriana his arm. “Come along, lass.”

She blinked, then slipped her arm through his, allowing him to lead her out of the command tent.

“There will be a reckoning for this,” Hostus hissed, his eyes full of hate.

Marcus didn’t look away, only allowed his own demons to rise to the surface. “Yes, Hostus. On that, you can count.”

Outside, ten boys wearing armor stamped with a 51 waited, and they all fell into step around Wex and Teriana as he escorted her through camp, Marcus following. He could feel them looking at him out of the corners of their eyes, curious who he was but too well-trained to overtly show it. They passed through the perimeter of the camp, where the group’s horses waited.

“Now which two of you lads fancy a walk back to Lescendor?” Wex asked. “I’m afraid we are in the need of some speed, so I’ll be taking your mounts.”

Teriana’s eyes widened in alarm, and having seen her on a horse, Marcus said, “Better Teriana ride with me.”

Taking the reins, he swung into the saddle, then reached down and hauled her up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed against his back, and Marcus had to force down the ache that rose in his chest as he remembered what he’d been on his way back to tell her when they’d been caught by the Twenty-Ninth.

It didn’t matter now. The choice was out of