Wexler, Django - The Shadow Campaigns 03 - The Price of Valor by Wexler Django

Wexler, Django - The Shadow Campaigns 03 - The Price of Valor by Wexler Django

Author:Wexler, Django [Wexler, Django]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Fifteen

MARCUS

In spite of the fact that his only physical pain was the aching of his arms from rowing, Marcus felt bruised.

Again. Once again, he’d led men into a nightmare, a confrontation with forces they couldn’t hope to match. He remembered the sick lurch of his stomach as the dead had risen in the Desoltai temple, the feeling that everything he knew about the world was coming apart. The screams of the soldiers the walking corpses had torn to pieces. What good are ordinary people against creatures like that?

For a moment, he damned Janus, the Thousand Names, and everything that had happened since the day Colonel Vhalnich stepped off the boat onto the rocky shore of Khandar. Maybe it would be better if the Redeemers had slaughtered us all.

Except, of course, it wasn’t Janus’ fault. The Priests of the Black were real, working under the surface, still manipulating events a hundred years after they’d supposedly been abolished. Raesinia was proof enough of that. Janus only opened my eyes. But he never asked if I’d rather have kept them closed.

“Marcus?” Raesinia said.

“Hmm?” Marcus blinked. They were sitting in the dining room of Twin Turrets, with the map still laid out on the table. It had gone four in the morning, and exhaustion was settling over him like a cloak. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“How long will it take your message to reach Janus?”

“If we’re lucky, by tomorrow night.” Marcus silently cursed the elaborate security measures that kept him ignorant of the location of Willowbrook. He understood the necessity, but he wanted to sit by the flik-flik line until new instructions came through, not wait for a signal and a courier handoff that might be flubbed. “And if he’s prompt, we could have a response by the day after tomorrow.”

“That’s too long.” Raesinia bit her lip. “I think we should go to the Deputies in the morning.”

“With just the arrest list?” That was all they’d gotten out of the night’s disaster, and that only because Raesinia had had the presence of mind to stuff it in her pocket. “It’s hardly proof.”

“The warehouse is still there. The Deputies could send investigators. Maurisk can’t move all that equipment overnight.”

“Are you certain? Maybe he has someone who can make cannon get up and dance.”

Raesinia shook her head, smiling slightly. “That would be something to see, at least.”

“I’ll think about it.” Marcus squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Sleep on it.”

This time Raesinia’s smile was more genuine. “Get some rest.”

She, Marcus noted, didn’t seem tired at all. He wondered if she slept, and if her condition prevented it how she occupied herself all night. The thought of his own bed, so sinfully large and soft compared to the camp beds he’d spent his campaigns on, was extremely attractive. Just a little more to take care of first.

Marcus got up, stumbling a bit over his chair, and excused himself to go in search of Uhlan. He found the Mierantai lieutenant by the back stairs, talking in a low voice to one of the serving women.



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