Page 305 of Scorched Earth
She huffed out a breath, then handed the baby to her eldest child, murmuring for them to go back inside. “Spare me the speeches. Why are you here, Marcus?”
“Isn’t my presence what you asked for? For me to return to Celendrial and use my power to do right by my own people rather than doing wrong against those on the far side of the world?”
“Yes,” Cordelia answered. “But you aren’t here because I asked you to be. Nor are you here because it was the right thing for you to do. I think not even Teriana influenced your choice to return, not her hold on your heart or the fact she defeated you. So why did you come home, brother? Because we both know that you being here will have a great cost.”
Marcus considered her words, then said, “I think we all have beliefs so core to our heart that they define us. Influence every action, every choice. For me, it has always been to safeguard those who mattered to me the most: my family. To do whatever it took to keep them safe from those who’d do them harm, no matter what acts it took. No matter that those acts made me a villain of the worst sort. No matter that I left ash and death in my wake.”
“You’ve decided to change that belief, then?”
“No. I just realized that I need to put my real family first.”
Cordelia didn’t answer, but he swore he saw relief in her eyes.
“When last we saw each other, you would have heard Wex say to me, ‘Just because you were born to them doesn’t make them your family. Look to those who guard your back, not those who throw you to the wolves.’” He glanced backward at the commandant, who sat his horse just out of earshot. “I’ve always known the Thirty-Seventh was my real family. My brothers. Yet that bond isn’t limited to just my legion, but to all our brothers-in-arms. Not a family we chose, but a family that we made in the blood and in the mud, and Cassius delivered the youngest of our ranks to the wolves when he sent the Fifty-First into the blight alone. He did it to put me in my place. To remindme that he ruled. What he failed to remember is that I am every bit the villain that he is, and when you come for mine, I come for blood.”
Cordelia drew in a deep breath, then pressed one hand to her face for a long moment. Lowering it, she said, “That isn’t the answer I’d hoped for.”
“Nor will this be the end you wished for,” he answered. “Take care of yourself, sister.”
Wheeling his horse around, Marcus rode away.
By the time Marcus made it through the packed streets, nearly every senator in the city was in the Curia. Some under their own free will, others clearly under duress, his men watching them weep and complain with unmoved expressions as they were ushered to their seats.
“This is embarrassing,” Servius muttered. “Some of them had to be dragged out from under the beds. Some of them tried to hide behind their young children. And these are the men who rule us all?”
“Golden pedestals,” Marcus answered. “Is everyone doing their duty?”
“So far. We’ve got the Fifteenth and Twenty-Ninth outside the city and under heavy guard. I don’t think the Fifteenth will be a problem, but Hostus left a stain on his men that I don’t think will ever come clean.”
“A problem for a later hour. Sign of Felix?”
“Not yet. Apparently his rat dug a deep hole, though he’s in pursuit. Forty-First is holding the perimeter around the Forum because the populace is frothing at the mouth. They’re angry, and if we let them, they’ll tear these men apart.”
“Tempting.”
“Isn’t it though? There’s something to be said for a clean slate.”
Except it wouldn’t be. Even if Marcus allowed every man in this building to be murdered, the wealth of the Empire remained in their families’ hands. Sons and nephews and cousins would inherit, then rise to power, and they were likely the same caliber of men who sat on these benches. “They are supposed to speak for the people, and those who actually do so will be elevated by Celendor’s citizens.” His eyes flicked through the open doors. Past Appius Valerius, who’d arrived without argument, to Tiberius Egnatius, who sat quietly in the front row, expression contemplative.
Now that he knew the truth, Marcus could see the similarities inhis face to Agrippa’s, as well as the slightly darker hue of his skin courtesy of his Bardenese mother. “The people see now that the Senate’s power is not absolute. That they are beholden to the citizens, and I think that, more than any action we take, will hold them to task.”
A commotion broke out, and a dozen Thirty-Seventh appeared, Felix at their head. A struggling man with a sack over his head was being dragged between them.
“Found him in a cellar near the harbor market. His servant was trying to bribe fishermen with boats to row him out to a ship. The fishermen turned him in.”
Pulling off the sack, Marcus looked into Cassius’s piggish eyes. “You are going to pay for this, boy,” the Dictator hissed between broken teeth. Felix had obviously taken Marcus’s orders that he be brought alive as not precluding injury. “If you don’t back away from this now, I’ll see everyone you care about dead. Your father and brother hanged. Your mother stripped of clothes and forced to walk the streets naked, your sisters along with her, and I’ll set the dogs on them. You, I’ll kill last, and it will be ashort rope.Make the smart choice while you still can.”
Felix lifted his arm to backhand Cassius, but Marcus shook his head. “Gag him and bring him in.”
The sack Cassius had worn was shredded, and his shouts cut off as a wadded-up ball of fabric was shoved in his mouth, another strip binding it in place. Walking into the Curia, Marcus was struck by how much smaller it seemed than the last time he’d been here. Nothing more than a small room set up like a theater with its tiered benches, the men filling them seeming smaller still. A rostra sat upon the elaborately tiled floor, and atop it sat a golden throne.
The last Emperor’s throne.
Marcus stared at it for a long time as Cassius was dragged in behind him, the Dictator the only one making noise, for all the senators were silent. Yet at the sight of Cassius, Lydia’s father leaned forward, his expression shifting from simmering anger to keen interest at the realization that Cassius was the target of all of this.
Tiberius rose to his feet, seeming to understand instinctively the role he needed to play here. “I would have you explain your intentions, Legatus. You have committed treason by abandoning your post in the West, by attacking Celendrial, and by doing violence upon members of this Senate. Why are you here?”
Marcus inclined his head to Tiberius, then lifted his voice. “Because the people are displeased. They are weary of being oppressed,of being trod upon, and of being taxed to fund a war they do not want. The Senate is supposed to be the voice of the people, yet its words are only to the benefit of the men in this room.”
