Gilded Serpent, page 50
Or perhaps his own role in enforcing them.
Except what choice did he have? Grand title he might possess, but she knew he was nothing more than an indentured servant to the Senate, doomed to work off the debt that had been forced upon him as a child, his freedom withheld for another twenty-five years, if he lived that long. To defy the Senate’s orders meant punishment—if the offense were great enough, he’d be hanged for treason. He was a slave to the will of a group of men he hated, and there was no escape, other than death.
Except, perhaps, for one.
The thought burned in her mind as they traveled south, each passing day growing warmer even as it brought them closer to Celendrial. Closer to the moment when Marcus would once again be a legionnaire. To the moment he’d again be the Empire’s tool for conquering the West. To the moment when they’d part ways and she and her freed people would join the armies of the West in the fight against the Cel incursion.
To the moment he’d cease to be the young man she loved and once again be the enemy she needed to defeat.
* * *
“The Savio,” Marcus said, rather unnecessarily, as they stopped next to a wide river. “We’ll travel west along it until we reach a village, then we should be able to buy a boat that will take us the rest of the journey.”
Sliding down the bank, Teriana pulled off her coat and stuck her hands in the cold water, relishing the feel of it running over her skin. The weather had improved with each passing day, and it was warm enough for a bath to be possible without risk of freezing to death. Especially given that this far upstream, the Savio was clean enough that she could see the rocks under its swift running surface, though it would grow fouler the closer they got to the ocean.
Closing her eyes, she imagined she could feel the strength of the sea reaching out to her, calling her home. It had been months since she’d stood on a beach. Longer still since she’d stood on the deck of a ship, and though a riverboat was a far cry from the Quincense, she rose and eagerly started downstream.
It didn’t take long to find one of the countless small settlements that made their living off the river. “Circle round and wait downstream,” Marcus said. “We can only assume that Cassius is still capturing any Maarin he can, and now that we are in Celendor itself, we shouldn’t risk anyone getting close enough to see your eyes.”
Grimacing, she nodded. And after giving him a list of supplies, she circled round the town and sat down on the bank to wait.
Perhaps an hour later, Marcus drifted downstream toward her, awkwardly steering a riverboat that had seen many years and looked ready to retire on the bottom of the river.
“Nice boat,” she said, wading out and then pulling herself aboard. “I hope it was free.”
“Was all I could afford after buying your supplies,” he countered, handing her a package. “So don’t complain.”
Taking hold of the rudder, she waited as the current took hold of them before easing toward the center of the Savio.
A temperate wind caught at her hair, sending her ragged braids streaming out behind her as they sped downstream. Only once she’d had her fill at the helm did she say, “Think you can manage this without crashing us for a few hours?”
Turning from his contemplation of the passing landscape, Marcus shrugged, then walked carefully to where she stood, taking the rudder. After giving him a few instructions, she retrieved the package of supplies he’d purchased. Then, sitting with her legs crossed, she went to work on unraveling her hair.
It wasn’t a task she ever did herself. Only her aunt Yedda touched her hair, and that was one of the reasons she’d delayed removing the braids for as long as she had. Because it would be like giving up the last thing she had of her family. Except not only were they grown out and fuzzy and unraveling in several places, it wouldn’t be long until she was reunited with the Quincense and her crew. And she knew that if her aunt saw the current state of Teriana’s hair that she’d never hear the end of it.
It was arduous work, and her back and neck and arms ached by the time she finished unbraiding. Her muscles protested as she set to combing out the handfuls of hair that had come loose, tossing it into the river to float away. She could feel Marcus’s eyes on her as she worked, and as always, she had to fight the desire to go to him. To wrap her arms around his neck and lose herself in the pleasure of his touch, because it was the only time she could forget that they were racing toward the moment they’d part ways forever.
Her eyes burned at the thought, and she rubbed at them furiously before filling a bucket with river water and setting to the task of washing her hair with soap that smelled like lavender, then massaging its length with oil that smelled of the same. Rebraiding it herself wasn’t a remote possibility, so instead, she wrapped it tight to her head with the scarf of indigo cotton that Marcus had selected, hoping it would serve to keep her hair out of her face until her aunt could set her to rights.
“You look like your mother.”
She jumped at Marcus’s voice. They often went a long time without talking, but the silences were easy and comfortable. Made more so by the fact neither of them went long without touching each other, the brush of his hand against hers as they walked never failing to make her heart skip, then race, always, always wanting more.
I don’t want to give you up.
“You’ll see her soon,” he added. “And the rest of your people.”
She’d been separated from them for so long … “If she even wants to see me. Not sure if you recall, but she wasn’t overly pleased at some of the decisions I made.”
“I remember.”
Chewing on the insides of her cheeks, she said, “When you told me I’d lost my chance to see her the morning we left, I wanted to kick you in the balls I hated you so much. But that wasn’t the reason, was it? She told you she didn’t want to see me, didn’t she?”
Marcus’s throat moved as he swallowed, his eyes on the river before them. “People say things they regret when they’re angry, Teriana. She’s had a lot of time to think, and she may see your choices differently having spent so many months a prisoner.”
“You don’t know her. She’s stubborn.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.”
Teriana frowned, never having considered herself anything like her mother except in appearance. Captain Tesya was rigid and married to their people’s ways, whereas Teriana had always felt drawn beyond the confines of her ship. To people who were different than she was. It had caused endless conflict between them over the years, and some days, she wondered if her mother had the right of it. If Teriana had never befriended Lydia, none of this would be happening.
And I’d never have met Marcus.
It was a selfish thought, and she shoved it away. “With my luck, I’ll have gone through all this to get my people free, and they’ll cast me out for it.”
“You didn’t do it because you thought they’d appreciate you for it,” Marcus said. “You did it because you believed it the right choice. Because you wanted to protect them.”
“Or because I couldn’t stomach having my fingernails ripped off.”
He flinched, then shook his head. “I think if you’d believed your mother’s path the right one, you’d have stomached far worse than that. It’s easier to suffer for something you believe in.”
She opened her mouth to ask when the last time was that he’d been tortured but paused.
Marcus had suffered tremendously as part of the Empire’s desire for power and domination. Yet she knew that he didn’t believe in it. Did he endure it simply because he had no other choice, or was there another reason? Not for the first time, she wished she could see inside his head because every instinct told her that there were secrets that he kept, and not just from her. “When they send you back with more legions and more resources, what will you do?”
“What I’m told.” His jaw tightened. “If I don’t, the Senate will execute me, and someone equally qualified will take command. My defiance changes nothing.”
She remembered what Amarin had told her in the command tent. About not striking a blow against one senator but against the Empire itself. Was such a thing even possible? “Have you ever wondered,” she asked, “what you might achieve if you fought for something you believed in?”
Marcus didn’t answer for a long time, then finally said, “I don’t know what I believe in anymore.” He pulled on the rudder, sending the boat drifting into one of the endless tributaries of the Savio. “It’s starting to get dark. We should find somewhere to make camp.”
88
LYDIA
The rest of the journey through the mountains had been mostly uneventful, the greatest threat the rapids of the river, but even those eased after that night. And it wasn’t long until they were into the foothills, the forests dense and full of wildlife that had been nearly absent from the mountains themselves.
Baird eased the boat against shore, and Agrippa and Killian climbed out to drag the battered vessel up onto the gravel, holding it in place while the survivors climbed out.
Lydia climbed up the bank, taking a seat in the thick grass covering the slope and resting her head on her knees, silently telling herself if she ever saw a boat again, it would be too soon.
“Thanks again for traveling with us,” Agrippa said loudly to the backs of his passengers as they wearily climbed the bank, faces drawn as they walked past Lydia with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. And their lives. “Do recommend our services to your friends!”
“Don’t get many repeat customers, do you?” Killian asked, helping Baird drag the boat farther out of the water.
“Not a one.” Agrippa scowled at the boat. “And after this last trip, I think it’s time I passed this business opportunity on to someone else. Gold in the pocket does me little good if I’m floating facedown with wildmen arrows in my back.”
“I’ve been saying that for a month, you skinny little shit,” Baird said. “’Bout time you saw reason.”
Agrippa shrugged. “Was good while it lasted.”
“No,” the giant replied. “It was not.”
Lydia was inclined to agree. No amount of gold would entice her to take another journey through the Liratoras, although it wasn’t lost on her that if they were successful in retrieving Malahi, they were going to need to find a way out of Derin.
“What will you do now?” Killian asked, trying, and failing, in Lydia’s opinion, to look disinterested.
“Go see if Rufina is ready to put me back on her payroll, I suppose,” Agrippa answered. “Commanding an army is easier work.”
“So you’re going to head to Helatha, then?”
“Yeah.”
Killian’s gaze flicked to Baird. “You?”
The giant shrugged. “I go where the little man goes.”
“I am not little.” Agrippa glowered. “You are merely profoundly large.”
The pair bickered back and forth, then Killian said, “Gertrude and I are heading that way as well.”
Lydia struggled not to scowl at him. Agrippa and Baird had seen too much for them to not be suspicious of her and Killian. They needed to part ways with them now, not venture into the underworld with the commander of its armies. What was he thinking?
“You could travel with us,” Agrippa said. “Rufina could use a man with your talents.”
“He’s not looking for a job soldiering,” Lydia said loudly, glaring at Killian. “He’s going to take up farming. Or become a merchant.”
“Honorable, safe professions.” Agrippa smirked. “But don’t sit there and pretend that’s what you’re interested in, Gertrude. You like the excitement. Admit it.”
“You are mistaken.” She injected as much frost into her voice as she could.
He held up his hands. “So sorry, beautiful. Farming is a wonderful profession, and I’m certain you will both have a fulfilling life growing potatoes together.”
Killian laughed, and Lydia glowered at him.
“Either way,” Agrippa said, “the road to Helatha is far from a safe one, so perhaps you’ll allow me the courtesy of ensuring you arrive in one piece.”
There wasn’t much she could say to that. “I hope it will be less eventful than the first half of our journey together, Agrippa.”
He grinned. “No promises.” Then he rounded on Killian. “Though don’t let me tie you to me with coin, Tom. You more than earned your wage.”
Digging into his pockets, he counted out glimmering gold, Killian looking more and more delighted with each coin Agrippa dropped onto his palm. It was probably, she thought, the first time he’d ever received a wage, and the novelty clearly overwhelmed his good sense, for he said, “We’d be glad for the company.”
“Perfect.” Agrippa stretched, cracking his back. “Let’s get underway. There’s a village about an hour from here with an inn that makes the most excellent stew.…”
He continued prattling as he walked down the path next to the river, Baird following at his elbow.
“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Lydia hissed under her breath as Killian came up next to her. “We can’t trust them.”
“I’m aware.” Killian shoved the coins in his pocket. “Agrippa fully intends to turn on us. But us parting ways isn’t going to stop him from doing that.”
“You think he wants his gold back? If that’s the case, why in the name of all the gods did you take it in the first place?”
He gave her an affronted look. “Because I earned it. Several times over.”
Crossing her arms, she waited for him to give her a proper answer.
“It would’ve looked strange if I hadn’t,” he finally said. “And no, I don’t think it’s the gold. He repaid everything he took from those people. I saw him slipping it back into their pockets earlier—no one but me noticed.”
Which seemed both entirely out of character and also exactly what she’d expect from the ex-legionnaire. “Why—”
“I don’t know. But I’d rather have him where I can see him than have to constantly watch over my shoulder,” Killian interrupted. “Keep your wits about you. I expect he’ll do it soon. And he’s not stupid enough to take me on without help.”
They fell into silence after that, both of them staring at Agrippa’s back as he walked and sang bawdy alehouse songs, Baird occasionally joining in with his deep baritone. They reached the village he’d spoken of without incident and partook in what was, in fact, very good stew before carrying on down the road, Agrippa never ceasing his endless chatter.
It was nerves. With what Killian had told her sitting in her head, Lydia noticed the tension in Agrippa’s posture, how he was no less watchful for them being out of the Liratoras than he had been when there was fear of wildmen and worse.
And yet nothing happened.
“There’s a town up ahead where we can get rooms for the night,” he finally announced as the sun was beginning to set. Turning to walk backward, he grinned at Lydia. “A hot bath, Gertrude. With soap.”
“You three availing yourselves would do me more good than soaking myself,” she answered, wrinkling her nose.
“Tubs are always too small,” Baird grumbled. “Haven’t had a proper bath since I left Eoten Isle.”
“When did you leave?” Killian asked. It was the first thing he’d said in hours. “And why?”
“Fifteen years ago, give or take,” the giant answered. “Lost my woman to a life debt during the last war with Mudamora, which was a bitter tonic to swallow. Decided I wasn’t interested in a life spent sitting on some rock keeping the Endless Seas still and took to the road, which my people took issue with. Gespurn won’t mark another summoner until I’m dead, so they put the hunt on me. Derin proved the best hiding place. That’s where I met the little man, here. Sorry. I mean the average man, here.”
“Nothing about me is average,” Agrippa said. “Especially not—”
“What made you decide to fight for Rufina?” Lydia interrupted before he could finish.
“No one decides to fight for Rufina,” Baird said wearily. “You obey or you die.”
“I hate to add another sorrowful note to this dismal conversation, but I’m afraid I have bad news, Gertrude,” Agrippa said. “It doesn’t look like you’re going to be getting that bath after all.”
“Why?” she asked, then yelped as Killian pulled her closer to him, his weapon in hand and eyes on the surrounding trees.
Agrippa stepped away from them, tugging Baird with him. “Because it appears I’m not the only one who recognized your boy. And his worth.” Then more loudly, he said, “Allow me to remind you all that while he’s only worth a thousand gold coins dead, he’s worth five thousand alive. Choose wisely.”
89
MARCUS
Marcus lay on his back on the deck of the boat, Teriana’s cheek pressed against his chest and his eyes on the endless stars above them. The boat swayed and drifted, moored to a tree along the bank, the air filled with the sound of cicadas and the scent of freshly tilled fields. Despite the darkness, it was still hot enough that sweat dampened his brow, not even a breath of breeze rustling the trees to cool his overheated skin.
He was home.
They’d been in the heart of Celendor for some time now, floating down the Savio and past Cel cities and towns and villages, the landscape devoted to the agriculture and livestock that dominated the nation. It was hot and humid, the winter rains warm as bathwater as they fell from the sky. But tomorrow, they’d arrive in Celendrial, and he’d have to face the moment he’d dreaded for so very long.
Teriana shifted in her sleep, her naked legs entwining with his. He ran his fingers down her back, soothing her into the restfulness that he denied himself.
Tonight was their last night together. The last time he could listen to her wild tales over a campfire. The last time he could lose himself in her beautiful body. The last time he would see dawn with her in his arms.
He didn’t want to let her go. Didn’t want to lose her. Didn’t want to go back to being the Empire’s weapon for many reasons, but one of the biggest was that he knew one day it would mean meeting her across the battlefield.
