Page 190 of Scorched Earth
Gods help her, she shouldn’t care. Should welcome him being punished, given what he’d done, but Teriana’s eyes still welled. “I’ll try.”
Reaching into the pocket of her dress, Cordelia extracted a rolled-up piece of paper, which she handed to Teriana. “I’ll lend my voice to yours. You may read it if you like, but please make sure he receives it.”
Drinking the water that Teriana had poured for her, Cordelia rose to her feet. “My husband, Tiberius Egnatius, stands against Cassius in all things. He would see Celendor become a true republic, withthose in office voted for not just by Cel citizens but by those in the provinces as well. It is important to him that the provinces gain a voice, and he’s willing to die to see it happen. I’m willing to die for it as well, for I share his vision, but I want my death to matter. I want it to achieve something good, something that makes Celendor better, for the sake of my children and all other children.”
Teriana rose, Cordelia’s letter feeling heavy in her hand.
“I’m sorry for what you have endured. Sorry for what you likelywillendure,” Marcus’s sister said. “But I believe you know firsthand the realities of putting the few before the many. Examine those realities as you decide how you will approach my brother.”
Cordelia started to walk away, but Teriana reached out to catch the woman’s wrist. “You’ve held all these secrets for years. Why didn’t you reveal them? You had the power to stop all of this almost before it began, but youdidn’t.”
Silence stretched, and Teriana could feel the tension in the other woman’s slender arm.
“A decision I regret every waking hour,” Cordelia finally answered. “As to why… I suppose the answer is that I was a coward. I was too afraid of the consequences to take action, and now it is too late for my words to matter at all. My brother has flaws beyond counting, Teriana, but cowardice is not one of them.” Pulling free from Teriana’s grip, Marcus’s sister left the room.
Moments later, Valerius appeared. His expression was grim. Refilling his glass, he paced back and forth across the room, visibly trying to master his anger. Finally, he said, “Cordelia has known from the beginning what happened to Lydia, hasn’t she? Tiberius as well? Perhaps the whole Domitius family?”
“If you were eavesdropping, you know the answer.”
“I wasn’t. But since learning Marcus is Domitius’s son, I’ve had my suspicions.”
“Your suspicions are correct.”
He sighed. “While I’d have hesitated to ever call any of themfriends, for there is no such relationship between those of us on the Hill, we have long been allies. Knowing they kept the information from me to protect Marcus puts a tarnish on that alliance.”
“You have it wrong.” Teriana stared at the letter in her hands. “They kept it a secret to protect themselves.”
“A fair point.” Rubbing a hand over his face, Valerius added, “I wish I could sever my relationship with all of them, but my allies against Cassius are too few to lose even one, however imperfect they might be.”
Imperfect was a generous word. More like setting villains against villains. Teriana was reminded of a conversation she’d had with Marcus about lesser evils. There was no one with the power to stand against Cassius who’d she’d describe asgood, only less horrible. “What is the status of my mother?”
“She’s being brought into the harbor on a fishing vessel,” he answered. “I think it best you leave Celendrial as soon as possible, so we should head to theQuincensenow.”
Dusk was falling over the capital of the empire as they reached the harbor, the city strangely quiet.
“Where is everyone?” Teriana asked.
“There is a curfew,” Valerius replied. “Civilians must be off the streets an hour after sunset. The Twenty-Ninth are supposed to imprison anyone they catch out, but more often they choose their own form of punishment. As I hold political office, I am exempt, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe.”
They crossed paths with a legion patrol, the Twenty-Ninth giving them and their private guard, who were all retired legionnaires, a cool once-over. “Pretentious pricks,” one of Valerius’s guards said after they’d passed. “Acting like they’re titans for intimidating civilians when everyone knows they’re shit in a real battle. I’d trust a row of roaches in this city’s defense over those pathetic excuses for men.”
“Thosepathetic excuses for menoutnumber us, so keep your opinions to yourself,” Valerius muttered.
“Yes, Senator.” The guard’s eyes roved the darkened city, hand resting on the hilt of his weapon.
They reached the harbor market, all the shops and stalls shuttered, but Teriana didn’t miss how the guards watched the shadows between buildings, weapons now in hand. As though they anticipated an attack from every angle.
The guard who had spoken against the Twenty-Ninth murmured some commands, the phrasing and tone eerily familiar, and Teriana asked him, “You were a centurion, weren’t you?”
His eyes didn’t break from the shadows. “Yeah, Seventh Legion. What gave it away?”
“Experience,” Teriana replied, her attention stolen by shadows climbing onto the end of the pier on which theQuincensewas moored. One of the shadows broke away, moving toward the ship. The familiar stride made her heart hitch. “Mum.”
Ignoring Valerius’s warning, Teriana broke into a run, heading inthe direction of her mother. She heard her aunt’s voice shouting as she passed theQuincense, but all Teriana cared about was reaching her mother. All that mattered was once again being under Tesya’s wing, every decision made for her so that there was no chance of making yet another catastrophic decision. “Mum!”
Tesya stopped in her tracks, face hidden by shadows, and for a heartbeat, Teriana thought that she’d turn her back. That she’d hold to everything she’d said about Teriana no longer being her daughter.
But then her mother’s arms were around her.
