“And the less obvious reason?” Which she suspected was therealreason.
Cassius chuckled softly. “You are finally learning to play the game, Teriana. As a reward, I’ll tell you the truth. Marcus is a dangerous man, and if I’d been the one to reveal his crime, he’d have blamed me. All the grief and bitterness and rage that burned in his heart would have been directed at me. Whereas by allowing the truth of his crimes to come to your ears as it did, he blames only himself.”
“Clever.”
Marcus’s voice filled her head.If he hurts you, I will take this army back across the seas and burn him alive.
Cassius inclined his head.
Teriana wanted to know if Marcus had informed him about the xenthier stem under Celendrial that led to Mudaire. Wanted to know if he’d told Cassius that Lydia was still alive. But on the very faint hope that Marcus had withheld that information to protect himself from Cassius discovering his failure, Teriana wouldn’t be the one to inform him. Instead, she asked, “Why did he send the Fifty-First back?”
“Depends on who you ask. We have Marcus’s letter. Austornic’s verbal account. Reports from the Ninth. And of course, other information from less…officialchannels, which is always interesting for it brings to light that which the other sources chose to leave out. The sum of all these pieces of information allows me to glean the whole of the truth, and it strikes me that Austornic was sent back to Celendrial because of his role in Marcus’s conflict withyou.” Cassius crossed his arms behind his back, the heat of the sun not seeming to touch him. “But it’s just as well—we’ve already redeployed young Austornic, whose capacity for risk was much increased after being sent home with his tail between his legs. There is always something of a rivalry between legion commanders. A desire to outdo each other that serves as greater motivation than anything I, or the Senate, could possibly achieve.”
Guilt pooled in Teriana’s stomach. “You gave him to Hostus, didn’t you. Nic wants to prove he can survive Hostus better than Marcus did.”
“Hardly. Hostus would spoil their enthusiasm.” Cassius gave her a small smile. “I’m afraid I can’t say more about strategy, my dear. You are soon to be joining our adversaries, and while I have nothing but the utmost confidence in Marcus’s ability to bring Gamdesh to heel, I don’t wish to make his campaign more difficult.”
The weight of his comment threatened to drag Teriana to her knees, but she forced herself to keep walking.
“This isn’t the direction of the prison,” she said, taking note of their surroundings as they walked past an excavation that hadn’t been there the last time she was in Celendrial. “You said my people would be freed immediately. Why aren’t you taking me to them?”
“I am,” he answered. “They were removed from the prison the day after you left for Bardeen and have been kept in different accommodations since.”
It should have been welcome news, but Teriana’s skin crawled at the revelation. “Where? And why?”
“A property I own,” Cassius said. “As for why… Hostus is a vile creature, and often shortsighted.”
“So you moved them to protect them?” She snorted. “I struggle to believe that.”
“You were my leverage against Marcus, your people my leverage against you.” Cassius nodded at a group of Twenty-Ninth that saluted him as they passed. “But they were only leverage if they were alive, and Hostus’s nature put their longevity in danger.”
Again, the knowledge that her people had not been suffering under Hostus and his men should have been a relief, but every instinct in Teriana’s body screamed that she was missing something. That, much like there had been an obvious reason and arealreason for withholding the truth of what Marcus had done to Lydia, the obvious reason Cassius had just given her for protecting the welfare of her people was not his actual motivation.
“Here we are,” Cassius said, gesturing to a large structure of the sort that held many small apartments rented by those who could not afford to own property. Older men in civilian garb but bearing gladiuses patrolled the perimeter, most certainly retired legionnaires Cassius had hired privately.
One of them unlocked the entrance, and Cassius said, “Go in, my dear. Tell your people they have been liberated. This is your moment, and I’ll not steal your thunder.”
Sucking in a steadying breath, Teriana stepped inside, fully expecting to be struck with the stink of decaying corpses because this was all a cruel trick.
Instead, she was greeted with the scent of gardenias from the enormous bouquet sitting on a table in the foyer. Past the open doors was a large courtyard from which both the tinkling of a fountain and laughter emanated. Teriana moved through the building, stepping out into the courtyard to find a gathering of her people, all hale, healthy, and well fed, each of them dressed in new clothes cut in Maarin style.
No one noticed her for a time, which allowed her to watch them. It seemed impossible that these were the same people who had stared out at her from behind bars in the prison, but they were.
“Teriana!” one woman gasped, recognizing her. “My gods, it’s you!”
Taking a halting step forward, Teriana cleared her throat. “I have fulfilled my contract with the Senate. You are all free. Your ships are in the harbor, waiting for you to board, and then you may sail—” She broke off, having been about to sayto safety, except that the West was no longer the sanctuary it had once been. “Wherever you wish to go.”
For a long moment, no one answered, then her cousin Elyanna’shusband asked, “The Empire now has land-based paths between East and West?”
“Yes.” She had to tear the word from her throat.
“Do you know their plans?”
Teriana coughed to clear her throat. “My understanding is that they are now at war with Gamdesh.”
Her people exchanged weighted glances, and Teriana bit the insides of her cheeks. Not once had she envisioned this moment, for she’d refused to allow herself the indulgence of considering how they might react. Even if she had, this wouldn’t have been what her mind would have come up with. It wasn’t that she wanted cheers or accolades or even gratitude, but she’d been certain they’d at least begods-damned happyto be free of the Cel. “I suggest you move quickly,” she said. “Lest they change their mind.”
No one moved.