“If you have a lead on Tinos, you need to share it with us now,” Cassius says.
“I have nothing definitive yet. Tinos is well hidden. And we’ve yet to capture one of their ship captains…alive.” The Jackal sips his coffee. “But irons are in the fire, and you’ll be the first to know if anything comes of them. Though, I rather think my Boneriders would like the first crack at the Howlers. Wouldn’t you, Lilath?”
I try not to stir at the mention of the name. But it’s hard not to. They’re alive. Some of them, at least.
And they chose the Sons of Ares over Gold….
“Yes, sir,” Lilath says, studying me. “We’d relish a real hunt. Fighting the Red Legion and the other insurgents is a bore, even for Grays.”
“The Sovereign needs us home anyway, Cassius,” Aja says. Then, to the Jackal: “We’ll be departing
as soon as my Thirteenth has decamped from the Golan Basin. Likely by morning.”
“You’re taking your legions back to Luna?”
“Just the Thirteenth. The rest will remain under your supervision.”
The Jackal is surprised. “My supervision?”
“On loan till this… Rising is fully snuffed out.” She practically spits the word. A new one to my ears. “It’s a token of the Sovereign’s trust. You know she is pleased with your progress here.”
“Despite your methods,” Cassius adds, drawing an annoyed look from Aja.
“Well, if you’re leaving in the morning you should, of course, dine with me this evening. I’ve been wanting to discuss certain…policies regarding the Rebels in the Rim.” The Jackal is vague because I’m listening. Information’s his weapon. Suggesting my friends betrayed me. Never saying which.
Dropping hints and clues during my torture, before I was sent into the dark. A Gray telling him that his sister is waiting in his salon. His fingers smelling like frothed chai tea, his sister ’s favorite drink.
Does she know I am here? Has she sat at this table? The Jackal is still prattling on. Hard to track the voices. So much to decipher. Too much.
“…I’ll have my men clean Darrow up for his travels and we can throw a feast of Trimalchian proportions after our discussion. I know the Voloxes and the Corialuses would be delighted to see you again. It’s been too long since I had such august company as two Olympic Knights. You’re in the field so often, skirting around provinces, hunting through the tunnels and seas and ghettos. How long has it been since you had a fine meal without worry of a night raid or suicide bombers?”
“A spell,” Aja admits. “We took the Brothers Rath up on their hospitality when we passed through
Thessalonica. They were eager to show their loyalty after their…behavior during the Lion’s Rain. It was…unsettling.”
The Jackal laughs. “I fear my dinner will be tame by comparison. It’s been all politicians and soldiers of late. This gorydamn war has so impeded my social calendar, as you can imagine.”
“Sure it’s not your reputation for hospitality?” Cassius asks. “Or your diet?”
Aja sighs, trying to hide her amusement. “Manners, Bellona.”
“Not to fear…the enmity between our houses is hard to forget, Cassius. But we must find common
ground in times like these. For the sake of Gold.” The Jackal smiles, though inside I know he’s imagining sawing off both their heads with a dull knife. “Anyway, we all have our schoolyard stories.
I’m hardly ashamed.”
“There was one other matter we wished to discuss,” Aja says.
It’s Antonia’s turn to sigh. “I told you there would be. What does our Sovereign require now?”
“It pertains to what Cassius mentioned earlier.”
“My methods,” the Jackal confirms.
“Yes.”
“I thought the Sovereign was pleased with the pacification effort.”
“She is, but…”
“She asked for order. I have provided. Helium-3 continues to flow, with only a three point two percent decrease in production. The Rising is struggling for air; soon Ares will be found and Tinos and all this will be behind us. Fabii is the one who is taking his—”
Aja interrupts. “It’s the kill squads.”
“Ah.”
“And the liquidation protocols you’ve instituted in rebellious mines. She’s worried that the severity of your methods against the lowReds will create a backlash comparable to earlier propaganda setbacks. There have been bombings on the Palatine Hill. Strikes in latfundias on Earth. Even protests at the gate of the Citadel itself. The spirit of rebellion is alive. But it is fractured. It must remain so.”
“I doubt we’ll be seeing many more protests after the Obsidians are sent in,” Antonia says smugly.