Page 159 of Scorched Earth
“Over here.” Quintus pulled her over to where Servius had taken up the Thirty-Seventh’s standard.
Outside, horns blasted a series of notes, and Marcus said, “Open the gates.”
Drying her sweating palms, Teriana squared her shoulders and stared forward as the towering twin gates swung open, the portcullis beyond rising to reveal a large procession of legionnaires. The front ranks were all Thirty-Seventh, but behind marched men who had to be well into their forties.
“He still has the Ninth with him—I recognize them,” Quintus muttered. “Shouldn’t they be retired?”
“Could be he hired them privately afterwards,” Servius answered. “It’s good pay.”
“But they’re wearing their number.”
“Yeah.” Servius’s tone was grim. “I see that.”
“What’s that mean?” Teriana asked Quintus under her breath.
“It means that the Senate has extended the mandatory years of service. Which they’d only do if they had reason to think they needed them.”
She needed no explanation for whythatwas a bad development.
The ranks of the Thirty-Seventh split to form up along the bridge, those of the Ninth marching into the courtyard to form neat lines with just enough space for a golden litter enclosed with crimson silkto press through. The eight white-clad servants carrying the thing were dripping sweat and panting, their arms shaking as they slowly lowered it to the ground.
A servant with an impressive head of blond curls and golden Cel skin stepped forward and announced at top volume, “Our most esteemed proconsul, Plotius Grypus!”
Another servant moved aside the curtains, extending an arm to assist a Cel man in his sixties with standing. The proconsul wore a gleaming white tunic and toga, the hem trimmed in crimson and gold to mark his office. He was, as had been described to her, possessed of incredibly skinny limbs and a round torso, with beads of sweat dampening his brow and thinning grey hair. A woman not much older than Teriana wearing a nearly transparent silk gown stepped out of the litter after him. She straightened his garments, then retreated. A mistress, no doubt.
Every legionnaire in the courtyard thumped a hand to their chest in salute, then Marcus stepped forward. “Greetings, Proconsul. Welcome to Gamdesh.”
“Marcus!” Grypus closed the distance, and to Teriana’s shock, embraced Marcus, pounding him on the back. “It’s good to see you, my boy. And well done in your efforts. You are the toast of Celendrial.” Then he gripped Marcus’s shoulders, looking him up and down. “Though not a boy anymore, are you? With your boldness, I’d half thought you’d never grow to be a man, yet here you are. It’s no wonder all the ladies stop to admire your statue in the Forum.”
“It is good to see you well,” Marcus replied, and Teriana wished she could see his expression. “Would you care to move out of the heat? My men will see to your escort, as well as to your belongings. I think you’ll find Gamdesh more suitable to your exacting standards than Chersome.”
“Let’s keep that to ourselves. If word reaches the wrong ears, we’ll be subjected to the company of my wife, and that would not spell good things for any of us.” Grypus looked past Marcus, eyes latching onto Felix. “Felix, my boy!” Then he lunged at Felix as though in a duel. “Here’s one who deserves a statue! I look forward to resuming our practice sessions. I think you’ll find I’ve become quite the force to be reckoned with in our time apart.”
“It would be my honor and pleasure, Proconsul,” Felix said. “I’ve always said you had the finest form of any man in the Senate.”
“That’s not saying much,” Quintus said softly, only for Servius to mutter, “Keep your bloody mouth shut.”
Laughing, Grypus looked around the yard, his lip curling. “Where is Zimo?”
“Harbor,” Marcus answered. “He’s responsible for the Katamarcans.”
“Tell him to keep his distance,” Grypus growled. “I caught him with one of my girls in Chersome and told him if he ever got handsy again, I’d cut off the problem. She was one of my favorites, and I had to get rid of her after that.”
Teriana struggled to keep her disgust off her face.
“Zimo will abide by my rules of conduct,” Marcus replied, but Grypus was already eyeing Austornic.
“What a first campaign to have!” the proconsul said. “Making a name for yourself on the battlefield already and not even fully grown. You’ll do well to learn from Marcus, and if you’re as clever as Wex claims, perhaps one day Marcus will be reporting to you.”
“I don’t foresee him reporting to anyone until after he retires,” Nic said, and Teriana could feel the boy’s admiration, which had only grown once he’d understood the full scope of Marcus’s strategy to capture the stems. “It is an honor to serve.”
Marcus’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he said nothing.
Grypus patted Nic on the shoulder, then said, “I would take refreshment out of the sun. Cassius is eager to hear of your plans to secure further territory now that we have the capacity to adequately reinforce.”
Teriana’s stomach plummeted at confirmation of Quintus’s prediction, but Marcus only said, “Of course. But there are other matters to be addressed, first. Commitments that both the Consul and the Senate need honor.”
“Ahh, yes. The Maarin girl.”
