Chapter 7 #2
“How bad is it?” she asked without looking up.
“He got thirty lashes.”
She whirled around, eyes wide. “Thirty? By the Moon…”
“Thocero’s with him. He’ll be fine.” Though his voice was calm, tension radiated through every line of his body.
“I need to see him.” Katell reached for her cloak, heart pounding, but his hand shot out and caught her wrist.
“Wait.”
She stilled. The shift in his tone made something coil in her gut.
“There’s something you need to know before you leave.”
He drew in a breath and exhaled slowly, as if the weight of what he was about to say pressed down on him.
“I protected you from Tyrrhenus. I called in every favour, pulled rank, made promises I’ll probably regret.” He met her gaze, something sharp flickering in his eyes. “But Tyrrhenus still wrote to the Emperor.”
A cold knot of dread settled in her stomach.
“And your loyalty has been called into question.”
She stiffened. “My loyalty? I’m loyal to you, to the Sixth—”
He cut her off with a shake of his head.
“I know. But you still attacked a legate.” He paused, the silence between them thickening.
“Emperor Caius has ordered you to go to Tiryns in Achaea,” he said at last. “The city is under siege, and the Emperor wants you to help the Twelfth Legion find a way inside.” His jaw worked, biting back something else.
“I suppose he wants to see if you’ll help bring down the Megarian rebels hiding there—after they bested you last summer. ”
Her chest tightened. Out of all the consequences she’d braced for, being sent away hadn’t crossed her mind. And Achaea was halfway across the Empire. It would take weeks to get there.
“When?” she asked.
“You leave first thing tomorrow morning.” Dorias retrieved a scroll from his tunic, his eyes never leaving her face.
“I wish it could be different, but it was the only way to keep you safe. Romilda will take you to the furthest outpost on the Achaean border, and then Tiryns is a few more days’ ride. ”
Using Romilda’s Gift would cut her travel time to mere days, but it was unusual. Legates didn’t leave the front lines lightly. “Are you really going to spare her just for me?”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “She was supposed to whisk Tyrrhenus and his praefect back to Kisra, but your mission comes first.” Dorias smirked. “Tyrrhenus will be travelling the old-fashioned way.”
It made sense to use Romilda’s Gift for speed, but it all seemed so sudden.
The knot in her gut tightened. She took the scroll, glimpsing the Emperor’s broken seal before tucking it away. She’d ask Pinaria to read it to her later. “And you?”
A shadow crossed Dorias’ face. “I can’t go with you. I must see to the men here and make sure the command holds.”
Her heart sank, but she didn’t look away.
He reached for her, his calloused fingers brushing a lock of hair behind her ear with surprising tenderness. “But once you’re done in Tiryns,” he murmured, “we’ll meet again. In Kisra.”
The infamous Emperor Tarquinius would want to meet with her then, and though Katell had no inclination to do so, she would try—for Dorias.
“Am I to go alone?” she asked.
“Romilda’s Gift allows her to send three people at most through her shadows over such great distances.”
“I want Arnza and Pinaria with me,” she said without hesitation.
Dorias’ brow furrowed. “Tia’s Gift could be more useful for infiltrating the city—”
“No.” Her tone brooked no argument. “Arnza and Pinaria. We work best together.”
His jaw worked for a moment before he dipped his head in acceptance. “As you wish. They’ll leave with you tomorrow.”
Some of the tension in her chest eased. Having them beside her made the looming mission seem more manageable.
“The Twelfth Legion is expecting you,” Dorias went on, his voice shifting into the clipped cadence of command. “I trust you’ll find a way into Tiryns. Once the city is breached, the legion will take over, and you’ll continue on to Kisra. We’ll get answers about your Gifts, about all of it.”
He meant to reassure her, but the words only reminded her of the ominous black smoke she’d summoned—the hissing voices, the ground trembling beneath her feet. A chill licked up her spine, her skin crawling with the memory.
She’d heard those voices before. Back in the forest in the Freefolk Lands, urging her to kill. And again in the arena. But they’d never asked to be set free before.
“That black smoke… Tyrrhenus seemed to recognise it.”
Dorias’ expression darkened. “When I pressed him, he claimed he’d seen it on the battlefield years ago.
Then he clammed up. Refused to say more.
” He grabbed her fur cloak, wrapping it about her shoulders—a small, comforting gesture.
“Once we’re in Kisra, we’ll go to the temple together and get answers. ”
He pulled her into an embrace, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar, spicy scent.
“Will I see you tonight?” she asked, already dreading the distance.
He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. “Do you really think I’d let you go that easily?”
Her breath caught.
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, his thumb grazing the curve of her cheek with quiet possession. “Go check on Larth. Pack. Handle what you need to.” His voice dropped. “But tonight, you’re mine.”
Heat curled through her, blooming in her chest and rising to her cheeks.
The corner of Dorias’ mouth lifted in a smug smile, entirely pleased with the effect he had on her. His hand slid to her waist, fingers pressing just enough to remind her he meant every word.
She returned the smile, then turned and slipped out of the tent, pulse still thrumming from the promise she carried with her.
When Katell reached the infirmary’s tent flaps, the heavy scent of herbs and blood hit her first.
Larth lay facedown on a narrow cot, his broad frame still beneath a thin sheet.
His breathing was shallow but steady. A dozen linen bandages crisscrossed his back, each streaked with dark crimson, while raw wounds peeked through patches of ointment.
A pungent, medicinal tang clung to the air like smoke.
The floor around the cot was littered with a grim scattering of bloodstained bandages. Katell winced at the sight.
Tia sat at Larth’s side, her face ashen and lips pressed in a tight line.
She held his hand in her lap, her thumb moving in slow, absent strokes across his knuckles as though willing him to feel her presence.
Arnza and Pinaria stood nearby, speaking in hushed tones that faded as Katell stepped into the tent.
Pinaria noticed her first, relief blooming across her face. “Kat, you’re awake!”
The others turned as Katell approached. “How is he?” she asked.
“Legate Tyrrhenus forbade Thocero from using his Gift to heal him for three days,” Pinaria said, her tone sharp with resentment. “We helped Thocero clean the wounds and cover them with numbing salve. He stayed with Larth all night and only just stepped out to rest.”
Arnza’s face lit with a fierce sort of pride.
“You should’ve seen it, Kat! Legate Tyrrhenus insisted one of his men hand out the punishment, and Dalmatius had no choice but to accept.
They tied Larth to a post and made sure all the soldiers were there—they wanted to see him humiliated.
” His eyes gleamed. “But Larth—he didn’t make a fucking sound.
Bit onto the wooden block and refused to show them pain. ”
It didn’t surprise her. Larth was one of the toughest soldiers she’d ever met.
“Until the end,” Pinaria added in a quiet voice.
Arnza’s jaw tensed. “Right. He did grunt a bit at the end. I mean… thirty lashes…”
The thought made Katell’s stomach churn. Dorias never should have allowed it. “Is there anything I can do?”
Tia let out a hiss through her teeth. “Like you haven’t done enough.”
Arnza’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “You seem to forget it was your drunken arse we’d gone to rescue in the first place.”
Tia straightened, eyes flaring. “I was perfectly fine. There was no need—”
“Enough!” Pinaria snapped. She glared at them both, her usually calm features drawn tight. “What’s done is done.”
Tia’s gaze cut to Katell. “What about you? What’s your punishment?”
Katell drew in a slow breath. “I’m being sent away to Tiryns.” Her gaze moved between Arnza and Pinaria. “And you two are coming with me. You’d best start packing. We leave at first light.”
Pinaria’s brows lifted, surprise flashing across her face, but she gave a firm nod. Arnza gave a low whistle, raking a hand through his dark curls. It was clear Dorias hadn’t warned them.
“Romilda will take us to the furthest outpost with her Gift. From there, we ride.”
“Tiryns?” Arnza repeated, incredulous.
“It’s in Achaea,” Pinaria replied.
He shot her a sharp look. “I know where it is. I meant, why are we going there?”
Katell retrieved the Emperor’s scroll and handed it to Pinaria. “The city is under siege. The Twelfth Legion needs help, and we’ve been tasked with finding a way inside.”
Pinaria opened the scroll, the brittle paper crackling between her hands. Her brow furrowed deeper with each line. Arnza leaned in, peering over her shoulder.
“Tiryns is supposed to be impregnable,” Tia muttered, glancing up.
“I’ve heard it said many times. The Emperor has tried to bring down the city for years—ever since the Megarian massacre.
The Grey-Eyed Maiden protects Tiryns’ walls with an impenetrable barrier, and as long as the queen sits on the throne, nothing will break it. ”
Arnza tapped the parchment with his finger. “It says here that once we infiltrate the city, the Twelfth will kill the queen and her court.”
The tent went still.
All eyes turned to Katell, and the gravity of the mission settled like a heavy cloak on her shoulders.
She stood straighter, forcing her features into something unreadable even as unease twisted in her gut. Dorias hadn’t mentioned this part, but of course that was the goal—kill the queen, break the barrier, end the siege.
Yet the idea of helping to orchestrate the assassination of a foreign ruler left a sour taste in her mouth.
Pinaria lowered the scroll, her face pale in the morning light filtering through the canvas above. “And how exactly are we supposed to get through a barrier no one’s breached in years?”
Arnza rubbed his jaw. “We could use Romilda’s Gift. Move through the shadows, maybe. Slip past whatever’s guarding the gate.”
Pinaria shook her head. “If it were that easy, they would have done it by now.”
Arnza shrugged. “Well, maybe your barrier can overpower theirs.”
Tia let out a sharp, humourless laugh. “Overpower the Grey-Eyed Maiden’s barrier? Do you hear yourself?”
Arnza’s face hardened. “Pinaria is Gifted by Laran, and he’s stronger than any of the Achaean Twelve!”
Before anyone could respond, a low, exasperated groan rose from the cot. “Would you stop screeching like Gorgons? Some of us are trying to sleep here.”
“Larth!” Tia jumped to her feet and pressed a hand to his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got flogged by Vanth herself,” he muttered, his eyes still squeezed shut.
Tia dipped a cloth into the basin beside his cot, wrung it out, and laid it across his brow. Larth let out a low groan of appreciation.
“All of you can piss off now,” he grumbled, “and come back later when I’m less interested in dying.”
Arnza huffed a relieved laugh, then tugged a hesitant Pinaria towards the tent flaps. “Come on. Let’s go pack.”
Tia lingered, visibly taken aback by Larth’s gruff dismissal. But before she could step away, his hand shot out and caught a fistful of her tunic, pulling her back beside him.
“Not you,” he murmured, his eyes cracking open just for her.
The silence that followed was weighted with something unspoken. The way Tia softened, the way his fingers curled against her side—it was intimate. Katell hated breaking up their reunion, but she couldn’t wait.
She approached the cot, her stomach roiling at the sight of the uncovered lacerations on Larth’s back. Most had been treated and covered with bandages, but a few deep gashes remained swollen and raw, seeping despite the ointment.
Tia gave Larth’s hand a quick squeeze before moving aside, offering Katell a solemn nod and space.
Larth’s eyes met hers, clear and steady, not a trace of pain in them. Katell managed a rueful smile. “I’m sorry they punished you instead of me. If I’d been awake, I would’ve stopped it.”
“Don’t worry about it, praefect,” he said, trying to shift but flinching as the movement tugged at raw muscle. The grimace cracked through his composure. “It was my own damn fault.”
“Still,” she pressed gently.
He waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it. Thocero’ll fix me up soon.”
The infirmary was quiet now, save for the rustle of sleeping soldiers at the far end and the soft splash of water as Tia worked in the corner. Her back was turned, but her tense posture betrayed she was listening.
“We leave in the morning,” Katell said, breaking the silence.
“So I heard.”
There was no need for a formal goodbye. They would see each other again soon—either in Achaea or, at the latest, in Kisra. Still, it felt strange to leave behind the makeshift family she’d made for herself over the past months.
“When we meet again,” she said with a soft smile, “I hope to see you on your feet and ready for battle, soldier.”
Larth gave her a crooked wink. “Laran be with you, Katell.”
“And with you.”
She gave him a final, earnest nod before turning away, the weight of parting settling on her shoulders. She needed to gather her things and prepare.
She stepped into the cold morning air when Tia’s sharp voice cut through the chill.
“Katell, wait!”
The Southern Beauty emerged from the infirmary, her thin cloak flapping against her shivering frame. The determined look on her face stopped Katell in her tracks.
“I just wanted to say…” Tia began, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to hold back more than the cold. “Be careful out there. And thank you… for coming after me.”
The unexpected sincerity caught Katell off guard, leaving her blinking in surprise. “It’s Larth you should be thanking,” she said at last. “Make sure you take good care of him.”
A fleeting, almost guarded smile flickered across Tia’s lips. “I will.”
With a final nod, Katell turned on her heel and trudged back towards her tent, already thinking of the long journey ahead. At least she’d soon be out of the miserable cold.