Page 298 of Scorched Earth
His tension evaporated. “Really? That’s unfortunate.”
“Is it though? Did you really need to be riding a horse that looked like she was carved out of a block of gold?”
“That mare saved my life.” Marcus shrugged. “But perhaps it’s for the best.”
Racker approached. “I’ve a name to add to the list. Miki has died, I’m sorry to report. Tragic. You’ll want to update your ledger.”
“A true loss to our ranks,” Marcus murmured, but his surgeon was already heading back to camp. “Felix, ready the men for the crossing. Double time; I don’t want to lose the advantage of darkness in Celendrial.”
Then he started toward the palace.
Servius fell in lock step. “Before he took off, Quintus said the terminus is within sight of Celendrial, though barely. It’s hidden in a slough below water level, which is likely why it’s never been found. He says the water isn’t deep enough to be of concern.”
“And Celendrial?”
“Tense. Hostus might be dead, but the Twenty-Ninth is keeping to their legacy. There are civilian bodies in the streets. Signs of fire. So much graffiti that you can barely see the walls, all of it espousing hate for our dear Dictator.”
“The people are rising.”
“And being struck down with an iron fist.” Servius was quiet. “We put this man in power, Marcus. This is on us just as much as it is on him.”
“Yes, it is. But we cannot undo the past, so the only avenue left to us is to empower those who will see Celendor toward a better future.”
“Do such individuals truly exist?”
Marcus thought about Lydia and her companions fighting against the undead. Against the power of a god. “I think so.”
As they reached the palace gates, Marcus glanced back to see the legions were on the move into the city, marching with speed that had more to do with eagerness than training. “I’ll need my best hundred to go first,” he said. “The rest of the Thirty-Seventh will hold the rear to ensure no one lingers behind.”
A runner disappeared to enact the order. “Centurion Qian would make a good primus,” Felix said. “You do need to choose someone.”
“I trust your judgment.”
Felix shot him a sideways look of concern that Marcus pretended not to notice as he entered the palace. Taking up a fresh torch, he motioned for his bodyguard to walk behind as he again followed the tunnels down to the xenthier stem.
“Centurion Qian should be here soon,” Felix said. “We’ll give them a bit of time to establish the perimeter, then begin moving through. It’s going to take hours, though, so—”
Marcus reached out and took hold of the stem, his friend’s exclamation of alarm cut off as the world turned white, casting him into a void for an eternity and less than a heartbeat.
Darkness abruptly fell over him as he stepped out into night air, and Marcus stumbled through knee-deep water, mud sucking at his sandals. He nearly landed on his ass in the murk, but then a cursing Felix appeared, crashing into him and knocking him onto the muddy bank.
“We shouldn’t both be here,” Marcus told him reprovingly as he kicked mud off his sandal.
Felix only shoved him, snarling, “You’re not supposed to go first. You’re never supposed to go first.”
“I’ll never do it again,” Marcus said. “I promise.”
Felix only huffed, then hauled on Marcus’s arm, dragging him up the slope, the brilliant glow of Celendrial visible against the midnight horizon.
“I always forget how big she is,” Felix said, their elbows bumping together as they stood staring at the city of their birth. The city that ruled an Empire.
A city that had, for a moment, tried to rule all of Reath.
They stood without speaking, the only sound the drone of insects and the distant clamor of the city, for Celendrial never slept.
Then there was a splash of water, and Qian moved silently up theslope behind them, his men arriving in rapid succession. “Sir,” he said, saluting. “Orders?”
“The moment we are spotted, those who have the most cause to fear our wrath will try to flee,” Marcus said. “Get into the city, and when the time is right, lock down access to the docks.”
