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taste. “He’ll have to let the Maarin go, now, which won’t make him look good.”

“We’ll see.” Wex rested his elbows on the desk. “Speaking of the Maarin, do you care to explain how the enemy caught you alone with the girl?”

Not in the slightest.

“I needed to speak with her about something alone and we went too far afield.” He lifted a shoulder. “It was a mistake.”

Silence.

“It’s not like you to get involved,” Wex finally said. “Less like you to make mistakes. Put an end to it, or you’re going to make more.”

“There’s nothing to end,” Marcus lied. “And even if there were, with Teriana having delivered on her end of the bargain, she’ll be out of my camp and back aboard her ship.”

“With how much more knowledge than she had before?” Wex gave a slow shake of his head. “Better for you to slit her throat than to let her live, though I know that’s not your way. You’ll live with your mistakes no matter how much they cost you.”

Marcus didn’t answer, only met his mentor’s gaze with as much dispassion as he could manage. “She’s not a threat.”

“Time will tell. Either way, it’s time we’re off. The Senate sits today, and my messengers will have reached their recipients by now with news that you are at Lescendor, so all will be there.”

Fastening on his cloak, Wex opened the door, and both of them stepped out.

To find Teriana standing on one of the tables, surrounded by boys, all who wore rapt expressions.

“And he stood at the front lines himself,” she said. “Only him and a hundred men against an army of seven thousand strong. Or at least,” she whispered the last conspiratorially, “that’s what the enemy thought.”

No one noticed his and Wex’s appearance, the boys’ eyes fixed on Teriana as she took a long pause, surveying them. “The enemy emerged from the jungle, racing on foot and on horse across the open field, murder in their eyes.”

“She’s got a gift for storytelling,” Wex murmured softly as Teriana carried on with a somewhat exaggerated version of the battle for Aracam, ending with a triumph of drums and horns and the men chanting Marcus’s name.

“One of her many talents,” he replied, his chest tight. Then more loudly, “Be mindful of what you believe.” All the boys twisted in surprise and fell into line. “Half of what she says is fiction.”

Teriana hopped off the table, lifting one of her shoulders. “Just telling it as your men told it to me.”

He didn’t answer, only surveyed the library that had been his solace for most of his youth, his eyes skipping over the leaderboards for the officer tests. When he found one where he’d lost the top spot, he smiled. He turned on the boy—Bardenese, judging from the hue of his brown skin—standing close to Teriana. “You’re Austornic.” Wex had told him of the boy earlier while Marcus was getting his hair cut, the commandant not so subtly suggesting that Marcus take the newly minted legatus under his wing.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well done. The commandant speaks highly of you.”

The boy swallowed, clearly fighting a smile. “Thank you, sir.”

Marcus looked the boy over, thirteen and all gangly limbs and elbows, though his eyes were full of intelligence. Not the cunning sort, but thoughtful and observant. And the boys behind him radiated the sort of loyalty that was earned, not forced upon them. “The Fifty-First have any interest in crossing the world?”

Austornic’s eyes widened. “With you, sir? To the Dark Shores?”

Marcus nodded. “It’s a dangerous place, but there is a great deal to learn.”

“Yes, sir. I’d be honored, sir.” He glanced sideways at his officers, who were all grinning. “We’d all be honored to learn from the Thirty-Seventh.”

“Good.” Marcus turned to Wex. “Send them when you’re ready.”

The commandant nodded, then gestured to Austornic. “We are off to see the Senate. I’m putting Teriana here in your personal care, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Shall we?” Wex strode through the library, Marcus at his elbow, trusting Teriana would follow. Hating the questioning look in her eyes, but it couldn’t be helped. She was in danger enough without anyone believing she meant anything to him.

Not that it was a secret he’d be able to keep for much longer.

The boys guarding the doors swung them open, and Marcus stepped out into the sun.

Only to find the space full to the brim with the Fifty-First, all of them lined up in neat ranks, banners flying above their heads, their armor polished to a shine. And in the center of them waited a golden chariot pulled by two horses, their trappings gold and plumage crimson.

“What nonsense is this?” he asked under his breath.

“Cassius has a habit of making decisions behind closed doors,” Wex answered. “I think it best that all of Celendrial know you are here and why. And what better way to accomplish that than a triumph?”

 95TERIANA

With their helmets on, they didn’t look like children.

They looked like soldiers.

That was the first thought that struck her as she stepped out of Lescendor’s library to see the Fifty-First lined up in neat rows, their dragon standard bearing their number glinting in the sun. And Marcus had just agreed to take them to war.

To his credit, he appeared not the slightest bit pleased as he glared at the golden chariot that awaited him. “This is unnecessary. A horse will be fine.”

“The citizens love their traditions,” Wex answered. “I assume you remember how to drive one? And how to follow an order when given one?”

“Yes, Commandant.” Striding down the steps, Marcus stepped into the chariot, taking up the reins. Two young legionnaires on horses followed, carrying crimson-and-gold banners with Celendor’s dragon wrapped around a 37.

“Do you know how to ride a horse, Teriana?” Austornic asked.

“Not well.”

“I see.” He frowned. “Is your preference to ride behind me or for me to lead your horse?”

Her preference was not to cling to a child’s back while she rode to meet the man she hated more than anyone on Reath. “I’ll manage myself.”

Wex appeared next

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