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

can see they are dead because of my mark,” Lydia explained. “But those around them—their friends and family—they don’t see that. All they see is the person they love being killed in the most gruesome manner imaginable. By their own countrymen. With one of the Marked who is supposed to be protecting them passing the sentence.” She swallowed hard. “And they hate us for it. I don’t think it will be long until they start taking steps to protect loved ones they know have been sick, hiding them and attempting to sneak them out of the city. If they haven’t already.”

“Gods, the Corrupter is insidious in his methods,” Dareena muttered, then her eyes fixed on Lydia’s. “You’re giving me problems but no solutions. And if there is to be hope of Serrick listening to you, solutions are what need to be coming out of your mouth. Remember, he wants to win this.”

“I don’t have a solution.” Lydia balled her hands into fists. “But not searching for one isn’t the answer. We need to understand how the blight infects people and try to find a way to cure people before they die from it.”

“So you need patients who are infected but still alive?”

“Yes, but no one in their right mind will volunteer.”

Dareena rubbed her chin, her eyes distant. “Not unless they were told they’d be safe by someone they trust.”

Tugging on her white robe, Lydia said, “Not me. And not you.”

“No. It has to be someone who is one of them.” Rising, Dareena went and opened the door. Leaning out in the hall, she put her fingers to her lips and whistled sharply. A few moments later, Lydia picked up the sound of boots coming down the hallway.

“I’ve some girls who might be able to help,” the High Lady said. “Double advantage in that you already know them.”

A heartbeat later, Gwen and Lena appeared in the doorway, smiles breaking onto their faces at the sight of her. Formerly members of Malahi’s personal guard, it had been Lena who’d told Killian of Malahi’s plots, and while the results of that revelation had been far from ideal, that didn’t change that her friend had sided with her over the Queen.

Rising to her feet, Lydia crossed the room and wrapped her arms around them. “Gods, it’s good to see you both. What are you doing here?”

Lena grinned, her copper-colored ponytail bouncing. “We work for the High Lady now. All of Malahi’s bodyguard does, except for Sonia. She went with Kil—err, General Calorian, to Rotahn.”

The knowledge that the Gamdeshian woman was with him eased the tension in her chest almost as much as having Lena and Gwen with her now.

“I’m assigning you two to assist Lydia in her research, as well as to watch her back,” Dareena said. “You’ll remain with her at Hegeria’s temple until I say otherwise. Understood?”

Both girls saluted sharply.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Dareena said. “If I stay away much longer, Serrick will send someone to see if I fell in the privy.”

She started to leave, but Lydia caught hold of her arm. “Will you try to convince him to send the Royal Army away?”

The High Lady’s jaw tightened. “I’ll try, but he’s not inclined to listen to me.”

“Make him listen.” Lydia felt her vanquished tension return. “Not only could the King end up with an army full of blighters, without healers to identify them, he might not realize it until it’s too late.”

 20MARCUS

“I’ve never had to do this before,” Titus said. “At least, not on this scale.”

It was late in what had been a very long day that had not been improved by a brawl involving no less than fourteen members of the Thirty-Seventh. The men fought—it was inevitable, given their lifestyle—and he’d heard of fights in legion camps that had seen dozens dead. But never the Thirty-Seventh. Never his legion. All the men involved would be punished, but first he needed to drag what had incited the brawl out of them, which might be a challenge, for Servius had indicated all were being reticent.

But that had to wait.

The sun was low in the sky, and they were walking ahead of the stretchers of the men they’d discharged, heading through Aracam toward the harbor, where a ship waited to take them away. Out of sight and therefore out of mind.

At least, that was the idea.

Drums thudded a regular beat, sodden banners flopping on the wind and rain pinging against the golden dragon standards of both the Thirty-Seventh and Forty-First. An honor guard surrounded them, but the procession was also full of men not included in the guard. Brothers. Friends. Lovers. Those who’d feel the absence of these young men more than anyone else.

Marcus didn’t think distance would do much to change that.

“Don’t let it ever get easy,” he finally answered the other commander. “They were injured following your orders and mine.”

“It’s part of the job.”

Casting a cold glance at Titus, he said, “They didn’t choose this path. Don’t forget it.”

They reached the harbor, moving onto the pier. The only ships in port were those from Marcus’s fleet, but that would change. One day, he hoped to see it full of merchant vessels, the docks teeming with people rather than devoid of life as they were now.

The men carrying the stretchers stopped, and Marcus started toward those holding soldiers from his legion. Young men that he’d known since childhood. Whether they were conscious or not, he thanked each for their service and saluted them. Then he stepped aside to allow others to say their farewells.

There were many who came to say good-bye to Miki—the Sibernese legionnaire having always been popular—but Quintus never left his side, his face shadowed and drawn. But when the medics nodded at the stretcher-bearers to proceed to the ship, he stood his ground, watching expressionless as Miki was taken away.

Waiting until all were boarded, Marcus nodded once at the drummer, who played a series of beats. Then the air was split with the thunder of hundreds of