Page 272 of Scorched Earth
“To protect you!”
“I’ve hundreds of men who can do that.” Marcus leaned over Gibzen and smiled. “Quintus would make a fine primus, I think. What do you say, Quintus? Fancy a promotion?”
The man in question didn’t respond, only watched with feral eyes.
“No!” Gibzen’s eyes tracked the scalpel, not fearing the pain, but what the surgeon was about to take from him. “You need me to protect you from yourself!”
Marcus caught hold of Racker’s wrist just before the surgeon could cut. “And why do you think that?”
“You’ve got too much softness,” Gibzen said. “Not your fault, but you need someone to keep you straight or you bend for people who don’t deserve it. You need someone to get rid of the problems so that you can think with a clear head.”
It was hard to see straight, Marcus’s rage was so intense. “And how did selling me out to my enemies factor into your way of thinking?”
“Because you didn’t understand what I was doing for you!” Gibzen shouted. “I needed to be closer, needed to have more power, but you kept giving it to men who couldn’t do what I do. Hostus said he’d get me promoted. Titus promised the same. So I took their gold and gave them information because I knew the cost was worththe reward. You just need to think about it, and you’ll understand. You’ll see everything I’ve done was for you!”
Marcus picked up Gibzen’s belt pouch and rifled through the contents. Gold Cel dragons. Vials of narcotics. And Teriana’s hair ornament, the gold of theQuincense’shull glittering in the dying sunlight. Grief rolled over him like a tide, but Marcus clenched the tiny ship and let himself drown in it. “Let him go.”
Felix gave him a look of confusion, but obeyed and pulled Quintus away. Gibzen rose to his feet, dusting dirt off himself. “I knew you’d see reason, sir,” he said. “I knew you’d understand.”
What Marcus understood was that Gibzen was a monster. A monster that, instead of putting down, he’d used to achieve his own ends, never once realizing that the monster was using him for the same. He was complicit in all that Gibzen had done, which meant he was responsible for so much more than just putting an end to him.
Reaching down, Marcus picked up a fist-sized rock, seeing the ranks of his men do the same. “I understand perfectly.”
What came next was legion justice. It was bloody and painful, but anger made it swift, and when it was over, Marcus retreated into the command tent, knowing that it would not be long until the other legati descended upon him, wanting answers. Wanting a solution for their predicament. For while all had pushed for this step of the campaign, Marcus commanded this army.
Which meant he needed to dig them out of this mess.
They could not fall back.
Teriana had ensured that much, but she’d also learned the art of war from him. She knew that boxing an army in meant a fight to the death, and casualties weren’t what she would want. Which meant she’d left him a way out, if he had the guts to step toward it.
“Felix,” he said, wiping blood from his face. “Swap me cloaks. And get me a white flag.”
102LYDIA
Agrippa rode away from the white tent, but he’d not gone far when a roar of anger surged across the space between the armies. The orderly ranks of the Thirty-Seventh had fallen apart when Agrippa had ridden into their midst, but now it was a raging mass of men in front of the white tent while the other legions watched, unmoving. Agrippa himself did not look back, and Lydia did not think his grim expression was because of the earthquake they’d just experienced.
“What are they doing?” Malahi demanded. “What’s happening?”
“They’re tearing one of their own apart. I don’t know why.” Killian lowered his spyglass as Agrippa cantered up the slope toward them, his face ashen.
“Who is that man?” Malahi demanded of him. “Why are they killing him?”
“It’s Thirty-Seventh business.” Agrippa leaned over the side of his horse and vomited. Wiping his mouth, he muttered, “Legion betrayal. Legion justice. Not our problem.”
Already the legion ranks were reforming, the only sign of the violence the swath of blood-soaked grass in front of the equally splattered tent. Of Marcus, there was no sign.
And as the sun fell behind the slope, whatever was happening within the army below was lost to shadows.
“Teriana and the others succeeded. I was there when he got the news, and that earthquake was the Gamdeshians getting rid of Marcus’s path back to them,” Agrippa said as they rode into their own camp, swiftly explaining what he’d learned. “Unfortunately, I think Teriana’s actions, in coming a day too late, might have pulled us out of the frying pan only to cast us into the fire. All those legionnaires are totally cut off from supplies and water, which means the only way they can get it is by taking it from us or moving south and taking it from Serlania. They’ll strip the land as they go, then take every ship in port and head to the relative safety of the Southern Continent. Without the Empire to supply them, they’ll be like a swarm of locusts wherever they go.”
“What was Marcus like?” Lydia moved her horse close to Agrippa’s. “Was he himself?”
“Yes. And no.” Her friend met her gaze, and in the torchlight she could see his cheeks were damp. “He reminded me very much of you when we were fleeing Derin. Different versions of himself that were very much at war with each other. How this goes for us is going to depend on which part of him wins out. Though in truth, once all the other legati learn the nature of their predicament, even if he wants to show us some level of mercy, they may not allow it. Hungry men are dangerous men.”
“What else happened in that tent?” Killian asked. “We saw a commotion going in and out.”
Agrippa was quiet for a long moment, then he said, “Nothing you need to know. Thirty-Seventh business.”
