Page 19 of Scorched Earth
“Patricians don’t take well to being deprived ofanythingthey want,” he answered. “But there isn’t a legatus alive who doesn’t dig in his heels over being sent here.” He scanned the branches above, shaking his head. “I think there are places in the world that refuse to be cowed.”
Teriana prayed the West was one of them.
“Will we go straight through without delay?” she asked.
“Unless there is a compelling reason not to.”
Working her jaw from side to side, Teriana said, “There is something you need to know.” She’d been holding off on revealing this particular concern but could delay no longer.
Nic gave a world-weary sigh. “Oh?”
“The Thirty-Seventh obviously knows we went missing but theydon’t know why,” she said. “Marcus had some concern that they’d think—”
“He deserted?” Nic gave a sharp shake of his head, cursing under his breath with words a boy his age had no business knowing. “If they believe that, then he might already be dead. You should prepare yourself for that.”
“How do I prepare for that, precisely?” Just the thought of it made her sick.
Nic was quiet for a moment, then he said, “His death wouldn’t change any of your goals, only how you’d go about achieving them. Consider how you wish to secure your people’s freedom if you lose the leverage you have with him. Set aside emotion and think about it logically.”
Seeming to reconsider his words, Nic added, “Fortunately, Marcus is aware of the complication, so he’ll plan accordingly.”
“How is that possible? There is no chance that the terminus stem isn’t under guard.”
“With luck, it will be the Forty-First. They’ll be less emotional and hear him out.”
That won’t be luck,she thought, but kept it to herself and adjusted the pack she carried. Valerius had ensured she had everything that she might need, including having the woman who’d served as Lydia’s maid rebraid Teriana’s hair. The woman wasn’t half as deft as Teriana’s aunt Yedda, but she still felt more herself with the multitude of braids hanging down her back, her collection of hair beads all carefully woven into them. She had fresh clothes, trousers of buttersoft leather, a blouse of fine blue silk, and a snug leather bodice that kept her breasts in place. Her boots were also new, which was why she was currently nursing a blister on her right heel, but they matched the belt to which she had the knife she’d stolen from Hostus fastened. The pack held spare clothes and various other sundries that she might need that the boys of the Fifty-First most definitely did not.
They walked over a bridge, and Teriana noted that downstream the water had been diverted away from a large excavation of earth and stone. In the mud surrounding it stood a group of older legionnaires and a centurion, who saluted as Nic approached. Not for the first time, she was struck by how strange it was to see a grown man deferring to a child, but rank was rank, and Nic was a legatus, even if the top of his head only reached the other man’s shoulder.
“We received word that the Thirty-Seventh’s legatus traveled through this stem recently,” Nic said. “Can you confirm?”
“He did, sir. The legatus showed no hesitation despite our intelligence indicating the terminus was unknown,” the centurion said. “He told me that the path was mapped and that he wished to inspect the genesis. I thought it strange that he was alone, but I wasn’t about to tell a legatus what he could or could not do. Then the Twenty-Ninth showed up, shouting at us to stop him. They put on pursuit into the tunnel, and it came to blows before they came back up and said he’d gone through the stem. They were angry, but gave no explanation, only departed.”
Nic’s face was bland as he lifted one shoulder. “There was some miscommunication within the Twenty-Ninth. You were right not to impede the legatus, for his orders are of the highest priority.”
“Figured as much, so the engineers accelerated the excavation. It’s mud up to the knees, but you won’t be crawling down a tunnel.”
“For which you have my gratitude,” Nic replied. “It will be seeing a great deal of future traffic.”
“Was he well?” Teriana interrupted. “The Thirty-Seventh’s legatus? Did he seem all right?”
The centurion’s eyes narrowed but Nic said, “Well?”
“No,” the centurion said. “He looked like right shit, if you pardon my saying so, sir. Half of what he said was slurred like he was drunk, but he didn’t have the stink of booze on him. Something wrong with him?”
Breathe breathe breathe.
“He’s fine,” Nic replied. “Merely some concern he’s brought a flux with him, so we’ll stock our medics accordingly.”
“They made it, then?” the centurion asked. “The Thirty-Seventh is on the other side of Reath?”
Nic didn’t answer, only gave the man a look that said that such information was above his rank, and the centurion flushed. “Sorry, sir. All is in order, whenever the Fifty-First is ready to proceed.”
“Good.” Nodding at the centurion, Nic moved past him down the excavated slope to where the glittering black spike of xenthier protruded from the ground, his bodyguards—every one of them shorter than Teriana—following at his heels.
“So this will take us to the far side of the world,” Nic said softly.
Teriana didn’t answer, knowing that he was speaking to himself. She’d told him, his officers, and his engineers everything she knew about the location of the terminus, including the scaffolding that had been set up when she’d last been there. “If that’s been removed, it’s a big drop,” she’d told them. “Survivable if you land well and roll, deadly if you don’t.”
