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

to achieve it; and being prisoner to it only fueled the rebellion in my heart. My belief that the Empire was an evil that needed to be driven out of Sibal, because with the Senate in control, my people would never be free.”

To Teriana, that seemed an impossible dream. The province of Sibal was thoroughly under the Empire’s control, and even a whisper of rebellion would be immediately curbed, likely with violence. But she said nothing.

“I dreamed of striking a great blow to the Empire, of putting my blade in the heart of a senator. Of showing them that I had not been quelled. So I bided my time and forced myself to become a model servant. And lo and behold, I learned that I was to be given to the legatus of the newly minted legion who had just graduated from Campus Lescendor.”

“Marcus.”

Amarin nodded. “Everyone was talking about him. The Prodigy of Lescendor, they called him—the brightest mind to have ever graduated. Scores unlike had ever been seen in Lescendor’s testing and equally competent in the field. And oh, did they have plans for him. To groom him and the Thirty-Seventh to be the ultimate weapon—one they could use to conquer the last remaining free nations of the East. And one who they could use to quell any rebellion that dared to rear its head. The sharpest weapon in their arsenal.”

Her blood chilled, because that was exactly how it had gone.

“Knowing all these things, I resolved to kill him at first opportunity,” Amarin said. “And in doing so, to strike a greater blow to the Empire than I’d dared to dream possible.”

She gaped at him, barely able to believe these words were coming from the man who’d fought to keep Marcus alive during his breathing attack. Who’d told her that he’d kill her if anything happened to Marcus.

“When the day came that I was to be presented to him, I managed to hide a knife on my person. I was a trained warrior, but they’d either forgotten or believed that I was assimilated. Either way, they’d never see the blow coming.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “I was ready, so very ready, and they led me into the room to meet this prodigy, this commander, this warrior that all of Celendrial was talking about, and…”

“And…,” Teriana pressed, her pulse racing.

“And I found a boy instead.” Amarin huffed out a laugh that had no humor in it. “Twelve years old, skinny as a bird, and so short his head didn’t reach my shoulder. And though I had opportunity, I didn’t reach for my blade.”

“It’s good that you couldn’t kill a child.” She couldn’t even imagine doing so herself.

Amarin laughed, and there was a coldness to it. “That had nothing to do with it. Celendor’s legions slaughtered my people’s children, and I would have been glad to return the blow. No, the reason I didn’t kill him was that I believed it would be a waste of my one opportunity. That they were all mad fools to think this boy such a powerful weapon. That I was better to use the access being his servant would give me to take a life that would make a difference.”

“But you didn’t.” She scowled, anger flooding her. “You, what? Developed so much affection for Marcus and the other boys that you gave up on Sibal? On rebellion?”

“Far from it,” he answered. “As I looked for an opportunity to strike my blow, my ambition only grew. Especially when I realized that the Senate had been right about him. And it was then I resolved that my blow would not fall upon a single man, but upon the Empire. And that my weapon wouldn’t be a blade.”

Teriana’s heart skipped, but before she could press Amarin further, sandals thudded against wood, and Marcus said, “We do have stools, you know.”

Scrambling to her feet, she muttered, “Uncomfortable stools. When you build your fortress, you should really invest in better furniture. With cushions.”

Quintus stepped from behind Marcus. “I hear you and me are to be tight as ticks again, Teriana.”

“If you’ll all excuse me,” Amarin murmured, “I’ll see to securing dinner.”

“Thanks, Amarin,” Quintus said. “I could use some grub. It has been a day.”

Marcus glowered at him. “I already regret this decision.”

The jaunty salute Quintus gave in response made Teriana’s chest tighten, because there was no humor in his eyes, only a haunted hollowness, this all an act to cover his grief.

One of the men on duty chose that moment to step into the tent, immediately looking to Marcus. “Your presence is required, sir.”

“I’m in the middle of something. Get Felix to deal with it.”

“It’s the tribunus who is asking for you, sir. He said to tell you that a magnolia has bloomed, but that the blossom is wilting quickly.”

All the blood drained from Marcus’s face. “Stay with her,” he said to Quintus. “I need to go.” Then he all but bolted from the tent.

Turning to Quintus, she asked, “What in the underworld was that about? Do you know the code?”

“Yeah,” he answered, expression thoughtful. “It means things are about to get interesting.”

 22MARCUS

Heart galloping, Marcus stepped outside the command tent to find Felix standing in the rain with the guards, his face unreadable. “He’s in medical.”

“How bad are his injuries?”

“He’s a dead man.”

And would only be the first of many.

Grimacing, Marcus strode through camp as fast as he could without running, both him and Felix ignoring the acknowledgments of the men.

The medical tent was only dimly lit for the sake of the men in it trying to sleep, but the surgery at the far end blazed bright with lamplight. Racker’s distinct form was bent over a body on the operating table, his assistants scurrying about.

Pulse loud in his ears, Marcus crossed the tent, his eyes fixing on the naked man sprawled across the table. He was bleeding from several wounds, but what was going to kill him was the gaping hole in his belly. Racker’s hands