Slowly, she nodded. “You have your alliance, Legatus. But I will have these terms, and the minutiae of our deal, in writing. And I’ll have Teriana’s signature as witness. Given she’s Maarin royalty, it will hold more weight.”
“Pardon?” He gaped at her, not at all prepared for that particular demand. Or that particular revelation.
Ereni chuckled, the gleam in her emerald eyes telling him that while they might be allies, they would never be friends. “It seems your lover is keeping secrets from you, Marcus. As we are again allies, and are therefore aligned in our interests, allow me to bring you into the fold: Teriana is heir to more than just the Quincense—she’s heir to the triumvirate.”
“The what?”
“The Maarin are ruled by a trade consortium made up of the captains of the three ships escorted by Madoria’s guardians. Triumvir Tesya of the Quincense is one of those captains, which makes Teriana the closest thing the Maarin have to a princess. Her voice carries weight with kings.”
Teriana was royalty? The note the Queen of Katamarca had included as a token of her goodwill took on a whole different level of meaning. And also explained how a scrap of paper from a merchant girl managed to make it into the hands of a queen at all.
Inclining her head, Ereni said, “Good day to you, Legatus. I look forward to enjoying the fruits of our alliance.”
11TERIANA
“Did you know?” Gibzen asked.
Teriana shook her head, blood still boiling hot over Marcus pulling such a stunt, though she wasn’t certain if she was angrier about him nearly getting himself killed or him taking more than half of the treasure that belonged in the pockets of the Arinoquians. “Did you?”
The Thirty-Seventh’s primus shook his head. “Nope. But when it comes to the twisty political parts of command, I’m the last person he’s going to confide in.” Gibzen laughed. “When it comes to the twisty political bits, he doesn’t confide in much of anyone until the deal is done. Never been quite sure whether it’s because he enjoys the power of having secrets or whether he’s just that distrustful of the rest of us. Though he typically keeps Felix in the fold.” He gave her a sideways glance, hazel eyes thoughtful. “Yet it looked to me as though the tribunus was just as shocked as anyone to see that gold come wheeling into camp.”
“Given I’ve been locked in a room valuing treasure for days, I’ve no notion of who Marcus has or has not spoken to,” she snapped. Her body ached, and she was exhausted from little sleep and afraid of what she was going to find when she reached the medical tent. “And I’m not all that interested in talking about him, anyway.”
“How quickly the hero who risked his own neck, as well as the necks of all these men,” Gibzen spread his arms at the surrounding camp, “to save you is forgotten.”
If only that were the case.
“By way of warning, Quintus is being … difficult.” Gibzen’s jaw tightened beneath his tawny brown skin. “That’s why I’ll be going in with you. When he gets in these sorts of moods, he’s dangerous.”
“I’ll go alone.” They were her friends and they’d been injured protecting her. There were things she needed to say that she didn’t want Gibzen listening to. “If there’s trouble, I’ll call for you.”
Gibzen snorted. “Quintus could kill you before you had the chance to scream, Teriana. It’s only because he’s injured that I’m allowing you near him at all.”
Her pulse sped, because though she knew Quintus was as trained as any of them, it felt strange to call the smiling, laughing young man she knew dangerous. “Please.”
“Shit, Teriana.” Gibzen scrubbed a hand over his shorn black hair. “If I let you get hurt, Marcus will have the skin whipped off my back. Don’t think that he won’t.”
“Tell him I insisted.”
“Prisoners don’t get to insist.” The primus said the words under his breath, but Teriana still heard. And still flinched at the reminder of what she was to the Cel.
Which was possibly a good thing, because it reminded her of what they were supposed to be to her.
How had things become so complicated?
“Do I need to bribe you to make this happen?” she asked, reaching into her pocket for some of her gambling earnings. But she paused as his eyes darkened, realizing her misstep too late. The primus was a murderer and not entirely right in the head, but he was also intensely loyal to the Thirty-Seventh. And to Marcus. “Sorry.”
He glared at her. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t do that and allow you to go in by yourself. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Pulling open the flap of the big tent before he changed his mind, Teriana stepped inside. The first thing that struck her was the smell: sweat and blood and piss and shit mixed in with alcohol and tonics and medicines. And over it all, the sickly-sweet scent of decay.
She bit down on the insides of her cheeks, trying to keep her stomach contents in check as her eyes danced over the rows and rows of injured young men. Some were unconscious on their cots, but others stared at the white canvas above them, their eyes glazed with the narcotics used to numb their pain. Bloodstained bandages and missing limbs and splinted bones. Catastrophic injuries.
The injuries of war.
Several of the medics looked up as she entered, nodding at her before going back to their tasks, but her eyes went immediately to the center of the space, where Quintus slumped on a stool next to the cot Miki rested on, the young legionnaire propped upright by pillows. Quintus had his cheek resting on Miki’s lap, the other young man stroking his hair. There were faint creases at the corners of Miki’s vibrant blue eyes that hadn’t been there before, and her chest tightened. Not young any longer.
As she approached, Miki turned his head, a smile rising to his lips. “Good to see
