Page 315 of Scorched Earth
Dead, but her eyes were dry, her tears spent. Every part of her spent, her core hollow. Empty. Like part of her had died along with him.
Breathe.
She sucked in a ragged breath, her nails scratching the flagstones her hands were pressed against.
Racker stepped up, pressing his fingers to Marcus’s throat. Then he nodded at Felix, who said, “We’re taking him, Senator. Servius, get him down.”
Tiberius grimaced. “Protocol demands that—”
“Fuck your protocol,” Felix snapped. “This happened because he ordered it to happen, but now I’m in command. And if you think you can force us to leave him for the carrion, you might consider whose legion fills the Forum.”
Tiberius opened his mouth, but then shook his head and walked away.
Teriana watched, frozen, as Servius sliced the ropes, Marcus’sbody limp as they lifted him. Neither Felix nor Servius looked at her as they carried him away, Racker following, and she did not watch them leave. Didn’t move, even when she heard the centurions give orders to depart, and the Thirty-Seventh abandoned the Forum. Leaving her alone with the corpses.
Breathe.
Except how could she with him gone?
Live.
Teriana drew in another ragged breath, her eyes fixing on a glimmer of gold next to the cut length of noose. Slowly, she climbed to her feet and walked over, stooping to pick up the tiny replica of theQuincense. Blood glittered on the enamel sails from where the mast had cut his palm.
The gold was still warm.
A ragged sob tore from her lips, and Teriana doubled over, the hand gripping the tiny ship pressed to her stomach as she cried and cried until no more tears would come.
Rope creaked, and she turned her head to look up at Cassius’s dangling corpse. His eyes stared at her, taunting.
How does victory taste, my dear,she heard his voice whisper.Is it as sweet as you hoped?
“Shut up,” she whispered. “You lost. Evil lost.”
So did you. Look around, Teriana. You’re alone.
He wasn’t wrong.
“I am alone.” Teriana pressed her clenched fists to her ears, trying to drown out his laughter, then her eyes fixed on a pair of black riding boots approaching. Slowly, she looked up, her heart clenching as she looked into Lydia’s green eyes.
“You aren’t alone,” her friend said, dropping to her knees to pull Teriana into her arms. “We will always have each other. Always. But I am so sorry that I was not at your side for this.”
“How are you here at all?” She clung to Lydia’s neck, seeing Killian standing beyond, his glower all that was keeping back those who wished to gawk at the corpses.
“It’s a long story, but suffice it to say that I knew I needed to come.”
If she’d arrived an hour sooner, would it have mattered? Would Lydia have had the influence to change the course of events? Teriana’s eyes went to the dangling corpses, and her heart knew that nothing would have changed what happened here. Not only because the newly minted republic cared no more for the opinions of othersthan the Empire had, but because Marcus would not have had it any other way. “I’m so glad you came.”
They clung to each other for a long time, then Lydia pulled her to her feet. “This place holds the worst of memories. I think it’s time to leave it behind.”
“Don’t you wish to see your father?”
Lydia smiled. “I already have. He understands that Mudamora is where I belong.”
They walked slowly from the Forum, arms linked, and Killian their silent shadow. People moved in as soon as they were out of the way, hands full of rocks and worse to throw at the corpse of the man who’d terrorized them. The civilians, citizens and peregrini alike, were in the streets celebrating, shouts oflibertasfilling the air, wine flowing. Part of Teriana hated them for it. Hated that they’d lift their cups and toast the worst moment in her life.
But she also understood why they did.
This was a moment that would be recorded in every history book. Celendor finally shaking off the vestiges of autocracy to step forward into a form of rule that would speak for all people in the East, not just the Cel. And most certainly not just the patricians living on the Hill.
