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to Marcus, murmuring softly, “This is Cassius playing games. Don’t be baited.”

Being made to wait was not what had Marcus’s skin crawling. It was what Cassius might be doing that made him uneasy, and he fought the urge to leave the room to ensure Teriana was safe.

“Austornic might be just a boy, but he’s a well-trained one,” Wex said softly. “Trust him.”

When it came to Teriana’s safety, Marcus didn’t trust anyone but himself.

Especially in enemy territory.

 99TERIANA

It was cool in the Curia.

Almost cold. Teriana shivered, shifting her weight on the hard stone bench on which she sat, part of her tempted to go outside into the sun to warm herself.

But there was not a chance of her doing so. Not when her fate, and thus the fate of her mother, her crew, and all her captured people was being decided on the far side of the door.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

At the familiar sound of the tread of legion sandals, she lifted her head, feeling a wave of icy cold wash over her. She climbed to her feet, her heart in her throat, pulse racing. Not at the sight of Hostus, his grin feral, but at his companion.

“You are a survivor, I’ll give you that, Teriana,” Lucius Cassius said, stopping in front of her. Reaching out a hand, he ran a finger along the scarf holding back her hair. “You look like your mother.”

“Don’t touch me!” She wished she could retreat, but the bench pressed against the back of her legs.

“The commandant and the Thirty-Seventh’s legatus are waiting inside, Consul,” Austornic said, edging between them. “As is the Senate.”

Cassius reached out to ruffle his hair. “Wex hasn’t favored a young commander like he favors you since Marcus was at Lescendor.” Then he glanced over his shoulder at Hostus. “Remind me … it was you and yours that completed the Thirty-Seventh’s training, was it not?”

“Yes, Consul.”

“Forgive my poor memory … You had an interest in taking on the Fifty-First, didn’t you? These boys?”

“We’d be honored to do so.”

Austornic paled slightly. “We will abide the commandant’s decision as to where, and with whom, we are deployed, sir.”

“Of course,” Cassius answered. “The Senate always takes Wex’s suggestions into account.” He brushed an invisible speck off Austornic’s armor. “I don’t know about you, Teriana, but I think that the young Maarin boys we are currently hosting would cut fine forms as legionnaires. I, for one, look forward to seeing them march under the Cel dragon.”

Visions of her people’s children being torn away from them and forced into training at Lescendor filled her mind. Of them being turned into killers who’d slaughter their own without thought, all loyalties and love for their people destroyed. “You’ll be waiting a long time, Cassius, because it’s not going to happen. I delivered on our bargain. Marcus is about to tell you as much. By the end of the day, I expect my people to be released.”

“Marcus,” Cassius emphasized his name, “is remarkably gifted at earning loyalty.”

“Probably because his word is worth something.” She balled her hands into fists. “Unlike yours.”

He leaned in close, a wave of frigid air washing over her. “Be wary of where you place your trust, my dear. Not all people are worthy of such a gift.”

And without another word, he strolled toward the doors, which opened to allow him and Hostus to enter before slamming shut behind him.

 100MARCUS

The doors swung open and Cassius strolled in.

He wasn’t alone.

Hostus sauntered at the consul’s elbow, a cold smile on his face, his too-green eyes glittering like a reptile’s.

“Apologies.” Cassius swept a hand so that the word encompassed all present. “And gratitude for your patience.”

The consul looked much the same as he had when Marcus had set sail for the Dark Shores, his lank blond hair perhaps a touch longer, his golden skin greasy and the air around him cloying.

And cold.

As Cassius passed Marcus, swatting him companionably on the shoulder, a wave of chilly air came with him, receding only as he climbed the dais and sat on the golden chair.

“Legatus,” he said as he settled himself against a crimson cushion. “I confess, I was stunned to hear you were in the city. We had feared the worst.”

“Allow me to vanquish those fears,” Marcus answered. “My legions have the nation of Arinoquia”—he gestured at the map—“under our control, and we have successfully found xenthier routes between the Dark Shores and the Empire.”

The chamber broke out into murmurs, silencing only when Cassius lifted his hand. “An incredible feat. And you came here yourself to deliver the news, requesting the right of triumph.”

“Am I not triumphant?” Marcus could feel the eyes of the senators on his back, but he kept his gaze on Cassius, noting a slight souring of his expression.

“So it would seem.” Cassius tilted his head. “Now tell us, where are the stems located?”

“The path-hunter—a man by the name of Nonus, who regrettably succumbed to injury—crossed a stem near Hydrilla in Bardeen, which terminates about a day’s march inland from Arinoquia’s capital of Aracam. There is a genesis stem in an abandoned city nearby that terminates in Sibern, within eyeshot of the Via Hibernus and shelter number 203.”

“I see.” Cassius rose, turning to look up at the map. “Not ideal locations.”

“No. But if there are two paths, there are bound to be more.”

Questions broke out from behind him, but Cassius waved them off. “Tell me, Legatus, how is it that you, in the lone company of your Maarin advisor, came to be the one to cross into Sibern? It seems ill-advised for a young man of your importance to take such an extreme risk.”

“Not by choice, Consul.” Shifting his weight, Marcus added, “We were separated from my main force by hostiles in the Arinoquian interior and happened upon the xenthier stem by accident rather than design. I had the choice of risking an unknown destination or certain end, and I chose the former.”

Cassius clapped his hands. “What a delightfully exciting tale, Legatus. I should love to hear the particulars at a future time.