A Torch Against the Night (An Ember in the Ashes #2) - Sabaa Tahir Page 0,71
They didn’t ask to be a part of this.
I catch Faris’s eye. “The Tribesmen are already restless, and we don’t have the men to put down another riot. We’ll let the children go—”
“Are you insane?” Dex shoots a glare first at Faris then at me. “Don’t let them go. Threaten to throw them into ghost wagons and sell them into slavery unless you get some bleeding answers.”
“Lieutenant Atrius.” I flatten my voice as I address Dex. “Your presence is no longer needed here. Go and divide the remaining men into three groups. One goes with you to search east, in case Veturius makes for the Free Lands. One with me to search south. One stays here to hold the city.”
Dex’s jaw twitches, his anger at being dismissed warring with a lifetime of obeying the orders of a superior officer. Faris sighs, and Harper watches the exchange with interest. Finally, Dex stalks out, slamming the door behind him.
“Tribesmen value their children above all else,” I say to Faris. “Use them as leverage. But don’t hurt them. Keep Mamie and Shan alive. If we can’t run Elias down, we might be able to use them to lure him in. If you learn anything, send me a message through the drums.”
When I leave the barracks to saddle my horse, I find Dex leaning against the stable wall. Before he can tear into me, I turn on him.
“What in the bleeding skies were you doing in there?” I say. “It’s not enough that I have one of the Commandant’s spies questioning my every move? I need you plaguing me too?”
“He reports on everything you do,” Dex says. “But he doesn’t question you. Even when he should. You’re not focused. You should have seen that riot coming.”
“You didn’t see it coming.” Even to my own ears, I sound like a petulant child.
“I’m not the Blood Shrike. You are.” His voice rises, and he takes a level breath.
“You miss him.” The edge in his voice fades. “I miss him too. I miss all of them. Tristas. Demetrius. Leander. But they’re gone. And Elias is on the run. All we have now, Shrike, is the Empire. And we owe it to the Empire to catch this traitor and execute him.”
“I know that—”
“Do you? Then why did you disappear for a quarter hour in the middle of the riot? Where were you?”
I stare at him long enough to make sure my voice doesn’t shake. Long enough for him to start thinking that he might have crossed a line.
“Begin your hunt,” I say quietly. “Don’t leave a single wagon unsearched. If you find him, bring him in.”
We are interrupted by a step behind us: Harper, holding two scrolls with broken seals.
“From your father and sister.” He doesn’t apologize for the fact that he’s clearly read the missives.
Blood Shrike,
We are well in Antium, though autumn’s chill does not agree with your mother and sisters. I work to solidify the Emperor’s alliances but find myself thwarted. Gens Sisellia and Gens Rufia have put forth their own candidates for the throne. They attempt to rally other Gens to their banners. The infighting has killed fifty in the capital, and it’s just begun. Wildmen and Barbarians have intensified their border attacks, and the generals on the front are in desperate need of more men.
At least the Commandant has dampened the fire of the Scholar revolution. When she was done, I am told, the River Rei ran red with Scholar blood. She continues the cleansing in the lands north of Silas. Her victories reflect well on our Emperor, but better still upon her own Gens.
I hope to hear news of your success in tracking down the traitor Veturius soon.
Loyal to the end,
Pater Aquillus
P.S. Your mother asks that I remind you to eat.
Livvy’s note is shorter.
My dear Hel,
Antium is lonely, with you so far away. Hannah feels it too—though she’d never admit it. His Majesty visits her nearly every day. He also inquires after my welfare, as I am still in isolation with a fever. Once, he even attempted to bypass the guards and visit me. We are lucky our sister is marrying a man so dedicated to our family.
The uncles and Father try desperately to keep the old alliances strong. But the Illustrians do not fear His Majesty the way they should. I wish Father would look to the Plebeians for aid. I believe His Majesty’s greatest supporters may lie there.
Father calls for me to hurry, or I’d write more. Be safe, sister.