Gilded Serpent by Danielle Jensen (top 10 novels txt) 📕

“Inevitably.” Polishing off his drink, Marcus reached for the bottle to refill it. “For more than a decade, they’ve had a common enemy in Urcon, but no longer. With nothing to unify them, I believe they’ll return to raiding one another, as was their custom in their prior homeland.”

“Unless you’ve gone and turned us into their common enemy,” Felix snapped. “They believed that gold their due, and you took the lion’s share of it.”

“We’re too big a fish for a single clan to war with.”

“What if they unify?” Felix pushed his full cup out of the way and rested his elbows on the table. “I’m not saying we wouldn’t win, but it would be heavy losses. Never mind that we’re supposed to be focused on broadening our footprint while we search for xenthier paths back to the Empire. That is our mandate, unless you’ve forgotten. Sir.”

It had been the elephant in the room for a long time now that Marcus had taken no steps to search for xenthier stems, but it had been easy to brush aside the matter as a lesser priority than entrenching themselves in Arinoquia.

Except why was Felix bringing it up now?

Was it because his other attempt to get rid of Teriana had failed and he now saw finding xenthier paths as the surest way to achieve that end?

His head began to throb again, the tent pulsing along with it, and Marcus took another mouthful of rum despite knowing he was only making his headache worse. He needed sleep, but he’d only lie awake staring at canvas. And there was so much to be done.

“Well?”

He’d taken too long to answer. Gulping down another mouthful, Marcus set aside the cup. “That’s why we’ll be allying ourselves with the largest of them before they burn through all the gold and start looking for places to find more.”

Felix blinked. “With Ereni? With the woman who, from the looks of it, just about slit your jugular?”

“Yes. I sent a messenger to her camp, so she should be here shortly.”

Felix’s ears darkened, his jaw working back and forth, but it was Titus who spoke. “It would seem, sir, that you have a good many plans that you haven’t chosen to share with your officers.”

“Yes, well…” Marcus stretched, both hearing and feeling his back crack. “I couldn’t risk loose lips.”

“Since when has that been a concern?” Felix demanded. “What is going on with you?”

Before Marcus could answer, one of his men stepped inside. “Imperatrix Ereni is here to see you, sir. Do you want me to have her wait?”

Marcus shook his head. “Send her in.” To Titus and Felix, he said, “I want to speak to her alone.”

Titus left without comment, but Felix muttered, “I’ll wait outside in case she tries anything.”

Ereni entered, pulling back the hood concealing her face. “You’ve a lot of nerve, boy. Speak quickly before I lose what patience in you I have left.”

“I invited you here to propose an alliance.”

The woman barked out a laugh. “Is that so? And what will this particular alliance cost me? I confess that the price of our last alliance was a bit rich for my blood.”

“It will cost you nothing, for it will be an alliance that puts all the gold you lost to me back in the hands of you and your clan.”

Ereni’s brow furrowed. “Explain yourself.”

Rising to his feet, Marcus drew a map out from under a pile, motioning for her to come closer. “I’ve marked the territories of the clans. Here, you can see the territory that officially”—he tipped his hand from side to side, because the clans had no firm borders—“belonged to Urcon’s clan. I propose that with my help, you take control of his territory, including the port cities of Galinha and Aracam.”

She huffed out a breath, then took a half step back from the table. “This—”

“Let me finish,” he said, scowling as blood dripped from his neck to stain the map. “True wealth doesn’t come from raiding, it comes from trade. From facilitating commerce. Urcon destroyed that opportunity by making the ports of both of Arinoquia’s largest cities dangerous and unprofitable. But that could change with you in control.”

“And what part would you play in this alliance?” Ereni asked once he was finished explaining his plans to turn Aracam into a center for trade.

“You’ll need an extensive military to hold such a large territory, as well as to keep the peace within it,” he said. “I can provide that, as well as serve as your advisor.”

“In exchange for what?”

“In exchange for fifty percent of the taxes you earn from those in your territory for the next ten years.”

“Twenty percent.”

“Forty.”

“Thirty.”

He nodded. “Thirty it is, then. And of course, your understanding that once we have established trade routes with the Empire that your agreement will cease to be with me, but rather with the Senate.”

Initially, the Senate would be all smiles and accommodating words. Except once they felt their position strong, they’d begin to push for concession after concession from the Arinoquians until the Empire was firmly in control of both politics and commerce, and then the majority of profit would flow east into patrician coffers.

But that was only a problem if xenthier paths were found.

And if not for the consequences to Teriana, Marcus would dream that they never were. Would dream of an opportunity to give his men a chance at a good life out from under the Empire’s thumb. A good life for himself …

Picking up the bottle of rum, Ereni drank straight from the neck, her expression thoughtful as she considered his proposal. It wasn’t only potential financial gain she was considering, but rather the consequences of declining his offer. What would happen to her clan if Marcus proposed an alliance with another imperator? Or what would happen if he decided to use his newfound wealth and existing military strength and took the territory for himself? She had no choice. He knew it, and so