Those with something to protect, someone to defend, were the most dangerous opponents—not soldiers fighting because rich men on a hill told them to.
His horse stepped into the open, the mare prancing like a peacock beneath him as he crossed the distance to the Gamdeshians. A woman of perhaps thirty years of age broke away from their ranks to ride toward him. Her black mount was perfectly behaved, and for the hundredth time, he cursed his stupid horse for her foolishness. “Steady,” he muttered, patting her neck. “It’s not you she wants to kill.”
He’d read descriptions of Kaira, which were all accurate. Skin of a medium-brown hue, dark brown hair most often worn in a long tail at the back of her head, though it was woven into a coronet today, and brown eyes. She was pretty, but the heavy plate armor she wore turned her beauty fierce. Yet what his spies’ reports had failed to capture was the gravitas the woman possessed. Almost as though she were not quite mortal, but rather something nearer to the gods of this land. Every instinct in his body screameddanger, but Marcus kept his posture as relaxed as possible while supporting the blasted weight of the Thirty-Seventh’s golden standard.
They both reined their mounts in at the midpoint between the two forces, and Marcus inclined his head. “Your Highness.”
Her mouth twisted into a cold smile. “Spare me the pleasantries, Cel dog.”
Marcus let out a soft chuckle. “You’ve been spending time with the Maarin, I see.”
“Not as much time as you, though I understand Teriana’s mouth is too preoccupied for insults.”
Though he’d anticipated similar comments, Marcus’s temper swelled at the slight.
Kill her,the voice ordered. His mare squealed and pinned her ears, stretching to snap at Kaira’s mount.
“Control your animal,” she growled.
“She’s looking for a fight.” He allowed the mare to keep pawing the ground with one foreleg. “Though we’ve yet to find one.”
Kaira’s jaw tightened. “Then why are we talking?”
“I thought I’d give you another chance to do the right thing. Surrender. Save lives. This is a courtesy, nothing more.” He used thehand holding the reins to pat the mare’s neck, and she used the freedom to rotate in a circle, giving him a quick glance behind him before facing Kaira again.Where are you?he silently screamed.We’re running out of time.
“I already provided an answer to yourcourtesy,” Kaira replied. “It still stands, though perhaps your lips are too preoccupied with Teriana’s backside to deliver.”
The black horse was pawing now, sensing his rider’s unease.She’s on to you,his instincts warned.You’re out of time!
“Teriana is not your enemy.” His defense of Teriana would fall on deaf ears, but given Kaira seemed intent on bringing her up, the topic might serve to stall her a little bit longer. “My masters in Celendor have her people imprisoned, and her actions are driven only by the desire to free them. Teriana has done a great deal to try to protect your people, whereas you have done nothing to spare hers, which suggests you are more her enemy than she yours.”
Kaira tilted her head, considering his words. “What would you do, were you in my shoes,Legatus? Would you sacrifice a city of one hundred thousand innocent souls for the sake of five hundred?”
“I’m not here to murder your people,” he answered. “The exact opposite, in fact. The Senate has no interest in trade with corpses, and indeed, they would be most displeased if I destroyed the market they desire to trade with. Whereas I can assure you, the lives of the imprisoned Maarin are very much on the line.”
“Yet you come with an army.” She gestured toward the ranks standing a hundred paces behind him. “You come to lay siege.”
“You are the one who invites a siege in your unwillingness to compromise, Kaira.” He allowed his mare to spin again, seeing no motion in the Thirty-Seventh’s ranks. “We can only hope that a taste of it will cause your people to reconsider their options. Mutually profitable trade with the wealthiest nation on Reath or starving to death to satisfy your pride?”
“Mutually profitable?” Kaira spat on the ground between them. “Lies. Your Senate desires to turn Gamdesh into another of itsprovinces. To control it in every possible way.”
Marcus shrugged. “True. Yet these people are already controlled. Already pay taxes to your father and bend to his whim. Will changing the face of the collector change their lives enough to risk war for the sake of keeping your father on the throne?”
“Taxes are the least of it,” she retorted. “We know what was doneto the god towers in Aracam and Galinha. Know you’ll do the same here.”
“Also true,” he said. “But will that matter when Emrant’s supplies run lean and children with empty bellies begin to cry? Will your voice of warning about what Celendor may or may not domatter? Or will the propaganda the Katamarcans have been spreading of the glorious opportunities for trade be the louder voice? Will your merchants scream loyalty to your father or”—he hefted the standard—“will they clamor for Cel gold?”
Her gaze jumped behind him, then back to his face. “They are not so weak as you seem to think.”
“Neither were the people in the other cities and fortresses I have laid siege to over the course of my service to the Empire,” he replied. “And yet all now pay taxes to the Senate, and I remain undefeated. Perhaps Emrant will be different.” Her eyes shifted past him again, brow furrowing. “Then again, perhaps not.”
Kaira wasn’t listening to him, her gaze on the scene behind his back. The shifting of soldiers filled Marcus’s ears, along with the tread of dozens of feet and panted breaths, but Marcus didn’t turn, only sat on his horse as Gamdeshians with bound wrists plodded past him, their heads down. Some wore uniforms, some civilian garb; all wore the same grim expression of bitter defeat.
A horse’s hooves thudded, and Felix reined in his ambling mount next to Marcus. “A fine afternoon for a ride, wouldn’t you say, sir?”
“It is.” Marcus waited until the masses of prisoners had passed, disappearing into the ranks of the Gamdeshian army where they’d have to explain how easily they were defeated. “Though tell me, do I have a feather bed waiting for me at the end of it?”
“You do, sir,” Felix replied. “And the nicest bathing pool you could want. The view looks over the sea. Nothing like a bath after a long march, am I right?”
