Wolf's Empire: Gladiator by Claudia Christian Morgan Grant Buchanan

Author:Claudia Christian, Morgan Grant Buchanan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

ACT IV

BESTIARIUS

Each as he hath begun shall work out his destiny. Jupiter is one and king over all; the fates will find their way.

By his brother’s infernal streams, by the banks of the pitchy black-boiling chasm he signed assent, and made all Olympus quiver at his nod.

Here speaking ended: thereon Jupiter rises from his golden throne, and the heavenly people surround and escort him to the doorway.

—Virgil, Aeneid

XXVII

I SOUGHT OUT J ULIA in the early morning before the others arose. The red tents of the Blood Hawks looked like bloodstains on the morning snow. Overnight there had been only minor snowfall and the cutting wind seemed to have vanished. It was as still and perfect a day as one could get on this frozen hell—as if this entire world was holding its breath to see what would happen next. The frozen wastes looked majestic, like waves on a great sea interspersed with serrated peaks. My heart was racing with dark excitement. No fear. It was perfect. This was how it was always meant to be. Fortuna’s hand was urging me onward. The Furies filled me with a fire that obliterated all hesitation. Things were coming into alignment.

The redhead was at the edge of the immunes’ camp on her own, cursing as she tried to get her gloved fingers to hold on to a wrench that she’d buried deep inside one of the desultore skirmisher engines.

“Have a good night with Crassus?” she asked as I approached.

“I think you’d be the last person to criticize me,” I said. She turned on the noisy generator she was using to charge the skirmisher’s engine. “Besides, it doesn’t matter—he’ll be dead soon enough.”

Looking at Julia, I became aware that with my body’s transformation had come a shift in mental perspective. Knowing I couldn’t be killed, that I was filled with a life force that buffered me from the effects of mortal decay, it changed things. When I left Crassus in our bed, he looked like a tower of strength and vitality, energy bursting from his body. Julia, young as she was, was dying. I could smell death on her. The strands of her red hair looked like thousands of tiny, brittle bones. I sensed her fragility and how easily her life might be stolen away.

“I’m worried about you, Accala.” She reached out and touched my breastplate. “It’s cold, you don’t have your armor’s internal heating turned on. Can’t you feel the cold?”

“What’s to feel? There’s no wind this morning.”

“It’s still minus twenty. The sun’s not up yet, and you’re walking around without a heat source.”

“I’m fine. I’ve never felt better,” I said.

“I noticed. Crassus must have given you ambrosia last night. You looked terrible yesterday, and this morning you’re shining like you’ve just come back from a holiday spa.”

“What does that matter? All that matters is the mission. Have you contacted my uncle yet?”

“Yes,” Julia said cautiously. “I’ve done as you asked and contacted your uncle. He’s forbidden you to act. He says you must do things in the correct order to minimize risk.

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