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

boards that ship.” He leveled a finger at Marcus. “I want him out. He’s too dangerous and too unpredictable.”

“That’s Felix’s call.” And as the Thirty-Seventh’s tribunus, he should’ve been here for this conversation.

Scowling, Gibzen turned on Racker. “Discharge him. You know full well what’s going to happen.”

The surgeon crossed his slender arms, using his greater height to loom over the primus. “If I were to request discharge for men based on what I thought they might do, I’d need stacks of paper to record all their names. If he breaks, I’ll revisit the issue. But not a heartbeat before.”

Gibzen kicked a stool across the tent. His temper was not good at the best of times, and for him, the answer was always violence. Servius rose from his stool, and Marcus readied himself to leap into action if the primus decided to attack the surgeon. “Get yourself under control,” he snapped. “And then get out before I consider punishing your behavior.”

Gibzen glared at him, but then the tent flaps parted and Felix appeared. At the sight of him, the primus relaxed. “Sir, it’s Quintus. I want him out.”

Felix took the cup of water that Amarin offered, staring at it as though he wasn’t certain whether to drink or vomit. But his voice was steady as he answered. “You’ve mentioned that. I take it Miki is to be discharged?”

“So says Racker. And you know Miki’s the only thing that keeps him together.”

“I disagree—” Racker started to say, but Felix held up a hand, turning to Marcus. “I’m inclined to support Gibzen in this. His men undertake our most critical missions—it’s stressful work.”

“So you’re suggesting we assign Quintus to something less taxing?” Marcus stared him down. “Idle minds have a tendency to go to dark places.”

Felix looked away, his golden skin slightly greenish.

How much did he drink?

Taking a sip of water, Felix said, “As it is, none of the other centurions are clamoring to take him on.”

“It’s not their call,” Marcus said. “It’s yours.”

Silence filled the tent, broken only by the dripping of water into basins and cups.

“Assign him to me.” Teriana’s voice cut through the growing tension. “I need a proper bodyguard, and who better than Quintus? He’s been with me almost since we arrived in Arinoquia, so I’m comfortable around him and I trust him to keep me safe.”

Jealousy flared through Marcus’s veins. That she trusted Quintus over him. Wanted it to be the other soldier guarding her back. Don’t be an idiot, he reprimanded himself. You can’t exactly follow her about, and even if you could, Quintus is twice the fighter you are.

Gibzen barked out a laugh, stealing Marcus’s attention back to the moment. “You sure you didn’t take a head injury, Teriana? Allow me to impart a bit of information to you that might change your mind: our man Quintus has the highest number of kills in the entire Thirty-Seventh legion. He’s an assassin of the first order, which is well and fine when he’s on the level, but the second his boy departs, Quintus is going to snap. Which would be bad enough, but considering that his woe has all come as a result of protecting you…”

“He’s angry with the situation, not with me.” Teriana’s voice was calm. “I trust him.”

That word again.

“He’s a murderer, girl. What part of what I’m telling you don’t you understand?”

“Pot,” Racker said, giving the primus a dark look, “kettle. And his kills were all sanctioned by the Senate, which is more than I can say for some.”

Since they’d been boys training together at Lescendor, there’d been no love lost between these two. Racker considered life sacrosanct and refused to take it, under any circumstance. Gibzen killed even when he didn’t have to and made no effort to hide that he enjoyed it. Marcus did his best to keep them separate.

“You’re just full of opinions today, aren’t you?” Gibzen wiggled his first two fingers, pantomiming a figure walking. “Why don’t you head back to medical and to playing nursemaid and leave those of us with military minds to make these decisions.”

His own temper frayed, Marcus snarled, “Gibzen, shut up and get out! You’ve said your piece.”

Face dark, the primus saluted and then stomped out into the mud and the rain.

Retrieving a pen and ink, Marcus signed the discharge papers and handed them over to Servius. “Get them underway.” Then he glanced at Teriana. “If there’s a message you want to send to your crew, give it to Servius.”

Servius glanced at Teriana. “You want to come with me? We can stop for some grub and you can write a note.”

“All right.” She picked up a piece of paper and a pencil, then she met Marcus’s gaze for the first time since last night and said, “Make the right choice, Marcus.”

He didn’t answer, only waited for them to depart before turning to Felix. “What do you think?”

Felix’s jaw worked back and forth. “Respectfully, sir, I think this is Teriana’s call. And yours. Now if you’ll excuse me, now that I have a full casualty list, I need to look at reorganizing the ranks.”

“Bring the changes to me when you’re done.”

Felix nodded, then with a sharp salute, exited the tent. Leaving Marcus alone with Racker.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s a good role for Quintus,” the surgeon said. “Unlike that blackhearted creature you replaced Agrippa with, Quintus takes no pleasure in killing.”

It was a struggle not to scowl at the mention of the Thirty-Seventh’s only deserter, but Racker wasn’t wrong about Quintus. Or Gibzen. “I need to think about it.”

Racker was silent for a moment, then he said, “You’re in no small way responsible for Quintus’s nightmares. Do right by him and give him a purpose, or whatever happens to him is on your hands.”

Give him a purpose. A thought rolled to the forefront of his mind. Something he’d never considered before and yet now found strangely enticing. “I’ll think of something.” He stood. “Dismissed.”

 18TERIANA

“That was tense.” Rain soaked her within an instant of stepping