Gilded Serpent, page 21
“We do allow them to retreat,” Sonia snapped. “They won’t take it. The deaths are on them, not on Lord Calorian.”
“I wasn’t speaking to you, Gamdeshian,” Dwyer sneered. “So keep your mouth shut.”
Killian’s temper flared, his hands balling into fists at his side. “Mind your tone, Dwyer. Not only is she my lieutenant, she’s correct. The Anuk show no interest in retreat or surrender.”
“Because of your heavy hand!” Dwyer glowered at him. “You’ve riled them up fierce. With the way things are going, the Anuk are going to cross the border in force, and then Mudamora can place two invasions at your feet.”
“Enough!” Ria snarled. “Leave, Captain. I’ll hear no more of these accusations.”
The other man stormed out of the building, slamming the door behind him.
“My apologies, Lord Calorian,” Ria said, smoothing her skirts once. Then again. “We’ve not seen this much violence in our lifetimes, and it has everyone on edge. But Dwyer is loyal to me to a fault.”
So much violence. And apparently the worst of it could be laid at his feet. Killian’s stomach twisted. Motioning to Sonia to go, he waited until she’d disappeared into the barracks before asking, “What would you have me do, Ria? I can’t stop them from attacking, I can only repel them when they do. And neither can I force them to retreat. This is the only avenue.”
“I don’t know.” She bit at her bottom lip. “Warfare is your expertise, Killian. Not mine. All I know is that every day things seem to grow worse in Mudamora.”
“You’ve received word from Mudaire?” The words came out faster than he’d intended, and he bit the inside of his cheeks.
“Only that the blight remains and that it continues to infect, despite the healers’ best efforts.”
Lydia was one of those healers.
“Anukastre must sense Mudamora’s weakness,” she said. “And rather than standing with us against the Corrupter, they aim to take advantage. And that terrifies me, because I don’t know how much more our kingdom can take before it falls.”
Killian’s skin crawled, his mark screaming warning after warning of danger to the point he could barely think. Which was no wonder, because it seemed to be coming from all sides.
Then alarm bells jangled outside, the thud of booted feet filling the air. “More raiders,” he said. “I have to go.”
But before he could turn, Ria rose to her feet, clutching at his wrist despite it being coated with dried blood. “It is your duty to protect Mudamora, Marked One. Please don’t fail us.”
Killian heard the words she didn’t say. Please don’t fail us again.
* * *
The sun was beginning to set as he dispatched the last of the raiders and bent to wipe his blade on the back of the man’s sand-colored clothes.
“You want us to start burning them, sir?” one of his men asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
“No,” Killian answered, glancing northeast in the direction of Mudaire before turning back to the man. “Drag the corpses to the mouth of the pass and leave them for the carrion.”
Where they’d serve as warning for what Mudamora’s weakness looked like.
40
TERIANA
Teriana rose slowly from the depths of her drugged sleep, blinking at the glowing stove a pace away from her, the smell of woodsmoke heavy in her nose.
Not a dream.
She and Marcus were on the far side of Reath, half a world from the Quincense and the Thirty-Seventh. In the middle of bloody frozen Sibern. In a stupid little shack where they were likely to either kill each other out of irritation or be eaten by giant wolves long before they starved to death.
Rolling over and hiding from her misery in sleep seemed an ideal solution, but then her eyes latched on Marcus. He stood next to the door, ear pressed against the wood, his eyes closed and knife in hand.
He was also dressed in what appeared to be clothing made from blankets, complete with a hat that was tied beneath his chin and a pair of mittens. He looked utterly ridiculous, and she would’ve burst out laughing if it wasn’t obvious to her that he had a plan.
Which meant they weren’t dead yet.
“Were you planning on saying good-bye?” Her voice was raspy from breathing in smoke all night. “Or were you hoping to sneak out while I was still asleep?”
His attention didn’t shift from whatever it was he was listening to outside. “Good, you’re finally awake. I thought I was going to have to toss you out in the snow to rouse you. It’s dawn.”
“We’re not in a legion camp, Marcus,” she snapped. “Who gives a shit if I sleep in? Who gives a shit if I sleep forever?”
“I do. There’s work to be done, and I’m not doing it all while you laze about. Now get up.”
Muttering curses under her breath, Teriana sat up. She needed to piss in the worst sort of ways, but the thought of dropping her trousers in the howling wind outside held little appeal. “Are the wolves gone?”
He grunted an affirmative. “All but the one you stabbed.”
“The dead ones don’t concern me.”
“It’s not dead.”
Marcus sounded positively gleeful, which was not only out of character, but also not a particularly fitting emotion for the revelation.
“At least, I don’t think it is.” He lifted one of the beams securing the door, setting it aside. “I haven’t heard it make a noise since the others left, but we should still be okay.”
Teriana shoveled snow from the little trap into the kettle, setting it on the stove. “Okay to do what, exactly?”
Instead of answering, Marcus lifted the other beam and cracked open the door, peering outside. “Come on. Shut the door behind you so you don’t let out the heat.”
Retrieving her blanket, Teriana wrapped it around her head like a shawl, then stepped outside, blinking against the brightness. The wind pierced through the woolen blanket, and she curved her shoulders inward, ensuring her hands were covered. Her breath made big clouds with every exhalation, and already she could feel the cold seeping through the leather soles of her boots.
Marcus was rotating, one hand shielding his eyes as he scanned the snowy landscape around them. “Keep a wary eye,” he warned. “Just because they don’t like the daylight doesn’t mean they won’t make an exception for an easy meal.”
Whether he’d intended it or not, Marcus’s words directed her eyes to the red stain marring the snow a hundred paces from where she stood. Nothing remained of the shifter other than blood, and Teriana’s stomach flipped knowing that it could’ve easily been her. Or Marcus. That it still could be them, if they weren’t careful.
Knife in hand, Marcus circled the shack to where the dead wolf lay unmoving, bloody snow churned up around its still form. It was far bigger than any wolf she’d ever seen, its thick black pelt ruffling in the wind, paws the size of her hand. Instinctively, she touched the bandages on her wrist, the claw marks aching.
The animal’s paw moved.
Both she and Marcus stiffened, and it was then she saw its flank still rose and fell; it was somehow still alive. The gladius was embedded in its chest, piercing up into its shoulder, but must have missed both heart and lungs.
Marcus took several steps closer, and the animal opened its eyes, squinting at them in the brightness. They were large, a beautiful emerald shade, and its lips pulled back in a snarl as it focused on them.
“Gods,” she muttered, moving to stand next to Marcus’s elbow. “Look at those teeth. How do you want to do this?”
“Good question.” Marcus reached for the hilt of the gladius, but the wolf moved, mouth snapping at his hand, and he stumbled backward, crashing into Teriana and nearly sending them both into the snow.
“Not like that.” Her heart hammered, the memory of this animal lunging at her in the dark all too clear in her mind. “Maybe we just wait for it to die.”
“We can’t. It could survive all day and then die in the night when we can’t do anything about it. Trying to skin an animal frozen solid is impossible, and we need its fur if there is to be a chance of us getting out of here.”
Teriana tapped her chin. “Wasn’t it you who said there was no chance of us surviving?”
The wind howled across the snowy plains, tugging at her blanket and burrowing deep into her skin. Down to her bones. Already she wanted to flee back into the shack. To stand before the stove until feeling returned to her hands.
“In a matter of days, it will be decided that I have either deserted with you or that we’ve both been killed,” Marcus finally answered. “Which means Titus will be in command of my men and have authority over your crew.”
So soon. A different sort of chill passed over her, and Teriana’s chest tightened. The consequences of her and Marcus dying here had haunted her dreams. But to know that the consequences would be visited upon her crew within days made her want to vomit into the snow.
“I’m sure you find that thought as unacceptable as I do,” Marcus continued, circling the wolf. “Which means we must get back west to Arinoquia. And this wolf is the key.”
“You just wanted us surviving to be your idea.”
The corner of his mouth turned up with a hint of a smile. “Speaking of ideas, how do you suggest we do this?”
The wolf watched them, green eyes little more than slits against the sunlight. Its flank rose and fell, little gusts of mist filling the air with each panted breath. It was weak from bleeding all night, but it was still bigger than she was. All it would take was one well-placed bite.… “You jump on it and hold it down. I’ll kill it.”
“Justify.”
Teriana rolled her eyes, having heard him use that exact word and tone with Felix and Servius countless times. “You’re heavier and the stronger wrestler. And we both know I’m better at slitting throats.”
“I’ve never wrestled a wolf.”
Teriana shrugged. “First time for everything.”
Handing over the knife, Marcus circled the creature, the wolf lifting its head to look back at him as though it sensed what was coming. “Distract it.”
Teriana kicked a clump of snow in the wolf’s face, and Marcus dived on top of it, arm snaking around its neck.
He pulled it backward, the wolf’s head tight against his chest, teeth terrifyingly close to the still-healing knife wound on his throat. The animal snarled and squirmed, but he hooked his ankle under the animal’s foreleg, rolling it, free hand grabbing its chin in an attempt to hold its mouth shut. “Now!”
It was a moving target of man and wolf, Marcus’s arm barely an inch from where she needed to cut.
Teriana didn’t hesitate.
Fresh blood gushed across the snow, splattering Marcus, who held the wolf against him until the creature stilled. Regaining his feet, he scanned their surroundings while wiping the blood from his face with one sleeve.
“You know how to do this?” she asked, kneeling to touch the animal’s coat. It was soft and thick, and she buried her fingers into its depths to warm them.
Marcus tilted his head from one side to the other. “Training. Had to skin and gut a rabbit in my third year, though I haven’t done it since. And I’ve read about the process of curing hides. I’ll figure it out.”
“A rabbit. Over ten years ago,” Teriana repeated, eyeing the huge wolf. “And you think that what you’ve read in a book is going to make up for your lack of experience?”
He jerked his gladius out of the animal’s chest and set it aside, not answering. Which was just as well, because her own statement had unleashed a tidal wave of memories. Of Lydia, who’d been of the misguided belief that anything could be learned from a book. A theory that was rarely, if ever, tested given that the other girl practically lived in a library.
Or had.
Teriana wondered if Cassius allowed his new wife the same liberties of occupation that her father had. Not that Teriana cared. “Will we go to Celendrial, first?”
“Yes.” Marcus said the word with a grunt of effort as he set to work gutting the animal. “I’ll arrange for another legion or two to cross through the genesis in Bardeen to Arinoquia and join our camp, though the Senate might not wish to send them until the path has been confirmed viable, which won’t be possible until spring.” Then he lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “You fulfilled your contract with the Senate, Teriana. And with me. Cassius will have no choice but to release your people, and once we’ve crossed back to Arinoquia, I’ll do the same for the Quincense and your crew. You’ll be free.”
Just like that.
“Can you please go set some water to boil? I need to get this skin off before it freezes.”
His voice was toneless. Utterly and completely devoid of emotion, as though he were a shoemaker informing her a pair of boots would be repaired by next week. Not the commander of the most feared military power on Reath telling her that he now had the capacity to conquer the world if only he could cut the skin off a wolf before it froze.
But her dilemma hadn’t changed.
Save her people or save the West. One or the other. If she and Marcus survived this, everyone she loved would be saved. But in the saving, Cassius would regain total power over the legions in Arinoquia, bolstering their ranks with tens of thousands more soldiers. Marcus might regain command, but it would be the Empire who ruled, he nothing more than a tool in its arsenal. War was unavoidable. The Empire’s triumph inevitable.
Marcus’s hands stilled, his arms elbow deep in the carcass. Then he looked up at her. “As long as you’re still breathing, you can keep fighting. Right now, you need to focus on doing whatever it takes to get out of Sibern. Leave the rest for another day.”
Fight to live. Live to fight.
“Cut off a chunk of meat while you’re at it.” Teriana squared her shoulders. “Might as well cook us some breakfast.”
* * *
She’d never known such toil.
While the sun raced across the sky, they finished skinning the wolf, Marcus working on the hide while she’d turned to butchering the animal, having found the knife she’d dropped the prior night. But gods, the cold. It sank into her bones, chapping her skin, numbing her hands, then her feet.
They barely spoke, both of them fixated on their tasks to the exclusion of all else. Teriana found she could barely think, her mind wholly consumed. There was only her knife. The meat. The cold.
Which was perhaps just as well.
“Leave the rest of it. The sun’s getting low.”
Teriana lifted her head from the icebox at the sound of Marcus’s voice, which was raspier than normal.
And as though the pack had heard him, a howl split the air.
“Inside! Now!”
Teriana fitted the lid of the box in place, her numb fingers shaking as she pushed the wooden pieces locking it into their slots. Marcus had already brought the pelt inside, and once she stumbled through the entrance, he slammed the door, lowering the twin beams into their brackets.
“This could be a rough night,” he said, tossing a piece of wood in the stove. “They won’t be happy with what we’ve done.”
She whirled around to face him. “What are you talking about? They’re only animals.”
Before he could answer, the air filled with the soft thud of running paws, then something heavy hit the door of the shack.
Teriana threw herself away from the door, nearly colliding with Marcus, who had his gladius in hand.
From all sides, the wolves attacked the shack, the small structure shuddering with each impact. Claws raked down the walls, then a thud echoed overhead.
“They’re on the roof,” Marcus muttered, barely audible over the noise.
“Are you sure they can’t get in?” She’d had a good look at the shack during the day: the walls were made of thick poles that had been set into the earth, beams running across the ceiling and layered with thick planks. It was about as sturdy as a structure made from wood could be, but right now it felt like they were standing in a house made of paper, flimsy and insubstantial.
“They were built because of these wolves.”
“That’s not an answer!”
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Over and over, the wolves attacked the shack, their snarls filling the air. It made Teriana cringe and want to clamp her hands over her ears like a child. There was a viciousness that hadn’t been there the night before.
A fury.
“They’re angry we killed their pack mate, aren’t they?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Yes.” Marcus pulled another piece of wood from the stack and threw it in the stove. “My men from Sibern told stories. Said the wolves held grudges.”
“Grudges?”
The wolf on the roof started digging, claws scraping across the wood as the others flung themselves at the shack. Each attack was louder. More vicious. From all sides, they tried to tear the walls down. To take their vengeance.
Then everything fell silent.
Teriana clenched her teeth, she and Marcus back-to-back with weapons in hand. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for the attack to resume.
Only the crackle of the fire filled her ears, sweat trickling down her back. “Are they gone?”
Marcus took a cautious step toward the door, pressing his ear against the wood.
The bang from a wolf hitting it on the far side sent him staggering, and Teriana caught him before he fell against the stove.
“Not gone,” he muttered. “Merely reconsidering their approach.”
It seemed neither of them breathed, listening to the soft thuds of the wolves circling the shack. But no attack came. Finally, Marcus shook his head. “The walls will hold or they won’t. Nothing we do will change that. We carry on.”
Teriana’s eyes flicked to the chunk of wolf meat she’d set out on the dented tin plate for dinner. The thought of cooking and eating it while the pack circled had a distinct lack of appeal.
