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

wonder you’re all tripping over yourselves to make Marcus’s acquaintance.” Though she noticed Titus’s number was on a few of the boards as well.

“You’re very familiar with the Thirty-Seventh’s legatus.” The boy tilted his head, the comment holding no criticism, only interest.

Familiar was an understatement, but Teriana only shrugged. “You spend every waking minute with someone, and you get to know them as well as they can be known.” She smiled at him. “And I’m not one of his underlings.” Pointing at the one test where Marcus’s number was ranked second rather than first, she said, “That’s one of you boys in the top spot, isn’t it?”

He nodded.

“It’s you, isn’t it, Legatus?” And when he nodded, she said, “Well done.” Especially well done, given his number was on more plaques than not.

“Thank you.”

Pausing in her circling, Teriana hopped up to sit on one of the tables. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Austornic.” He glanced at the closed door, then came a few steps closer. “Have there been many battles?”

Too many. And from the looks of things, many more to come. “There have,” she answered gravely, and because the alternative was to cry, she asked, “Would you like to hear the story of how Legatus Marcus of the still-undefeated Thirty-Seventh Legion tore the tyrant Urcon from power?”

 94MARCUS

Hating himself for the way he was treating her, but knowing that it was necessary, Marcus closed the door in Teriana’s face.

Then he turned around.

It had been more than seven years since he’d stood in this space, and yet nothing was changed: the walls still hung with maps, the desk still cluttered with books and half-drank water glasses, cucumber slices and crushed mint leaves settling to their bottoms. Commandant Wex sat on the chair on the far side of the desk, and with a smile, he said, “I supposed you’ve finally earned the right to sit.”

Shaking his head, Marcus lowered himself onto the stool, resting an ankle on his opposite knee. The stiff leather of his new sandals was already giving him a blister. “Seems strange to do so.”

Rising, Wex went to the sideboard and filled two glasses with water, dropping several slices of cucumber into each.

Accepting the one he was offered, Marcus frowned at it.

“I recall you don’t like cucumber,” Wex said, taking a seat. “But it’s good for you, and you’ll need something to wet your tongue while you give me a full report.”

Though it had been years, it was still engrained in him to obey this man, and so Marcus started at the beginning, giving the pertinent details of the crossing and an account of what had occurred once they’d landed. He kept some choice information, such as the Marked, back, but otherwise was thorough.

“Bardeen.” Wex rubbed his chin. “And Sibern.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Couldn’t be much worse placed if they were at the bottom of the sea.” Rising, the commandant went to a framed map of the Empire on the wall, staring at it silently for a long moment. “Sibern is more of a logistical challenge, but Bardeen…” He shook his head. “It’s a pot on the verge of boiling over. Supplying you via that stem will require a significantly larger legion presence in the region, which will incite them further, I’m afraid. And Cassius won’t hesitate to quell them using force. It will be nothing short of a massacre.”

“Nonus was the only path-hunter to make it to us,” Marcus answered, then took a sip of water in an attempt to wash away the bile rising in his throat. He already had one massacre to his name, and the last thing he wanted was to be part of another. “The rumor is that those in much of the West are partial to entombing terminus stems, so any further men the Senate sends might be walking into their graves.”

Wex made an aggrieved noise, scrubbing a hand over the white bristles of his hair. “Madness. I’ll see if we can pause the process until you’ve had further opportunity to make safe the stems in your area, but…”

“Cassius.”

Wex nodded. “His popularity with the peregrini has never been worse, but it’s a different story with the citizens. He favors them, and those with influence have found themselves making a great deal more money since he gained the consulship.” Wex’s eyes turned hard. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your complicity in his rise to power, boy. Was it a bribe or a threat?”

“Both.”

The commandant grunted. “He’s recently appointed Hostus to command of the city guard—that’s why the blackhearted bastard is here. The Twenty-Seventh is being moved to Timia, and once they’re gone, the Twenty-Ninth will take up residence in Celendrial’s barracks.”

Marcus’s hands turned to ice. “You can’t be serious. Hostus? Celendrial will boil over.”

“Then its streets will run with blood, because Cassius won’t curb him.”

Staring at the cucumber floating in his water, Marcus allowed the weight of this development to settle onto his soul. This is your doing, his conscience whispered. Your fault. “Is he favored to win again in the next election?”

“He wasn’t.” Wex sat back down at his desk. “It’s believed by most that you and yours were lost to the high seas to some Maarin trick. Cassius spent a small fortune on your campaign to the Dark Shores, and until now, it has yielded nothing. He always had a strong opposition in the Senate, and that has grown. Those are not men who like to have their gold squandered. Even with Hostus’s legion sure to pull the same trick as yours, he wouldn’t have won. Not against Tiberius Egnatius.”

That was his sister’s husband. Marcus curbed the urge to ball his hands into fists, because Cordelia was treading on dangerous ground.

“Of course, with your arrival back in Celendrial, that will change.” Wex leaned over the desk, and Marcus forced himself to meet his gaze. “You’ve just won him another term, whether you willed it or not.”

His chest grew tight, a wheeze rising in his breath, and Marcus drank the contents of his glass, trying not to gag on the