Seed of Rage by Camilla Monk

Author:Camilla Monk [Monk, Camilla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: grimdark, low fantasy, Fantasy, Dark fantasy
ISBN: 9781644405895
Publisher: Yaypub
Published: 2019-08-27T04:00:00+00:00

22

The indigo tunics and shields of Emperor Manicus’s thirteenth and twentieth spilled inside Nyos like ink. All the red that was left was the blood covering the pavement, running down the gutters to vanish in the sewers. I rode behind Victrix, following the equites’ squadron along streets where Western Legionaries gathered citizens and a few men who no longer wore any armor, but retained the red tunic of Nyos’s urban cohorts and soldiers. I avoided their gazes on my mask. I wished I’d been stronger, but their despair clung to me, so thick I could almost feel it stick to my skin like sweat and blood.

“Where are they taking them?” I asked Victrix.

“The forum. Clearchos and Spurius will probably gather our men there. They’ll want to take control of the prefectural palace as soon as possible. After that, it’s over for good.” And Nyos will be theirs, I concluded in my mind.

“Don’t think about the war; think about the pay.” I tore my gaze away from a sobbing girl about my age to Vatluna’s contemplative frown. The sturdy bay mare he rode belonged to one of the Decurion’s men, but Luna had climbed on it first and asked if he could borrow it afterward. The young eques, whose biceps were barely thicker than Luna’s wrists, had predictably capitulated.

“One fifth of the loot is ours. The emperor is gonna make us rich,” Victrix concurred.

I shrugged. “But Clearchos gets to keep most of it, right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His grip on the reins hardened, much like his voice. “You think he’s not being generous enough with us?”

“No. I don’t even know what our pay is,” I countered candidly.

“Then shut the fuck up.”

Not even an axe would have gotten through Victrix’s thick skull when his temper got the best of him. I kept to myself, until the pavement under our horse’s hooves became large marble slabs. A crowd of legionaries and mercenaries had gathered at the center of a vast square, which bore the scars of war. The basilica’s many windows continuously vomited puffs of dark smoke, and the columns supporting its portico were cracked. A pile of shattered marble sat in the middle of the place, which vaguely retained the shape of a horseman. Under the rubble, a painted head watched, helpless, as two soldiers hammered away at the two silvery moons framed by sigillaria leaves decorating its imperial crown.

The prisoners were being brought to the other end of the square, forming a compact crowd, a single being whose collective moan filled the air. Women and children had been separated from old men and captured soldiers. Under my armor, my skin flushed with a guilt that felt like a poisonous rash. If it weren’t for the sword I had stolen from a dead Lorian, I’d be just like them. Deep down, I knew I didn’t belong here with the winners—the predators. But I never wanted to be prey again.

“We’ll probably receive some slaves in reward,” Victrix stated casually, eyeing the mass of bodies like he’d have a market stall.

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