Page 58 of Firebird
Koska came again, setting a tray of roast hog and vegetables with more bread on the table in the private quarter of the tent, behind the curtain. He also brought a pitcher of clean water and a bowl to wash with.
He didn’t speak a word to me, and I didn’t ask if I was permitted to use the water. But I did use some of it to wash up. I was about to blow out the oil lamps and change into my night dress when I heard voices approaching. Remaining behind the curtain, I watched as Julian entered the tent with another man.
“Malina,” he called, summoning me.
I walked out to realize that the man with him was the one he’d met with in the forum when we brought Enid home, one of his tribunes. He was the one who talked Julian down from shifting into half-skin when that soldier manhandled me.
He was near the same height as Julian, but that was no surprise. All dragons were built much larger than humans. His skin was a deep bronze, his eyes a clear blue, and they glinted with mischief. He was extremely handsome and seemed to know it.
“Malina, this is Trajan.”
“Salve, Malina.” He nodded a greeting, smiling to himself at some joke I didn’t get.
“Hello.”
“If you ever need anything, and I’m not here, you can go to him. His tent is directly to our left.”
I stepped closer, frowning at his amused expression. “What are you smiling about?”
Seeming surprised, he laughed. “I apologize. I’m not laughing at you.”
Julian grunted disapprovingly. “Now you’ve met her, you can go.”
“I’m laughing at him.” He gestured toward Julian, ignoring his suggestion to leave. “He was very put out when I suggested we meet in case you ever need something when Julian isn’t here.”
When I made no reply at his rather familiar teasing, he went on.
“These campaigns can actually be rather long and boring. As it is, we don’t even know where our enemy is.”
“Really?” I moved closer to them. “And who is your enemy this time?” That was something Julian hadn’t bothered to tell me yet.
Trajan glanced at Julian, seemingly for permission. After Julian nodded he said, “We don’t know. They’ve sacked several provinces, burning one to the ground, and yet none of the survivors can even tell us who they were.”
That was unusual. Most clans would leave something behind or would proudly leave a mark so everyone would know who had destroyed a Roman province.
“What language did they speak?”
“They didn’t,” answered Julian. “No one heard them speak at all.”
“That’s strange.”
“Exactly,” said Trajan. “Quite the mystery, these marauders. But we’ll dig them out soon enough.” He turned for the door. “Good night, Legatus. Malina.”
Then he was gone, and I was alone with Julian.
“What are you thinking?” he asked with that pensive look he often wore when he regarded me.
“I was feeling sorry for the marauders that you’ll be killing soon.”
“Do you not feel sorry for the families, the women and childrenthey murdered for no reason at all? They weren’t all dragons living in these provinces. There were free men and slaves alike who were killed.”
“Of course I don’t want any innocent person—dragon or human—to die. But they weren’t killed forno reason. It’s a rebellion against the Roman state.”
He smiled that crooked smile and walked past me toward the living quarters, disappearing behind the curtain.
“But you know that already,” I called.
The sound of him removing his uniform kept me from confronting him face-to-face.
