Page 69 of Firebird
“The one you fought with?” asked Trajan.
Julian nodded. “This wasn’t an attack.”
“Julian,” Trajan scoffed, “they killed almost four hundred of our men. It was an attack.”
“It was a warning,” he replied. “Actually, it wasn’t even that. It was a prelude to what’s to come.”
Trajan crossed his arms, still standing at the foot of the bed while I remained seated on the edge next to Julian.
“What did their leader say to you?” Trajan demanded.
“Only that we would meet again.”
“But that isn’t what has you so pensive,” I remarked, knowing it with my empathic sense. “What is it?”
He turned his head toward me, a smile tugging on his mouth. “So perceptive, firebird.”
I took his hand in both of mine and squeezed, so relieved he was awake and talking. Then he went on.
“I saw something before the leader disappeared. I thought I was imagining things, but now, seeing their use of fire, I know I’m right.”
“What did you see?” asked Trajan.
“The flicker of a dragon living inside him.”
Trajan balked. Then he laughed. “Are you sure?”
Julian didn’t laugh, but held his tribune’s gaze. “The man who moved with inhuman speed and cut me with a poisonous blade was a dragon, Trajan. I know it.”
Trajan glanced away and bit his lip, soaking this in. Then he added, “Not just the leader. All of his men as well.”
A chill prickled along my skin, raising goose bumps on my flesh. “Yes,” I said, knowing yet again with my magic that this was true. “That’s how they were able to use fire against you.”
“Because they could breathe it,” said Julian. “And they must’ve soaked the boughs with oil so they would ignite instantly, the nets trapping my men so they smothered beneath the dome of smoke and flame.”
Nodding, Trajan heaved out a sigh. “That would make sense, but Julian”—he shook his head—“there were hundreds of them. Were they all dragons? How did they escape?”
“There were hundreds flying through the tops of the trees,” he said. “I thought they were our men, but now…”
“They were the enemy,” finished Trajan. “The barbarian horde flying to safety, disguising themselves as our own men.”
“It was chaos,” continued Julian. “And the air was covered in the scent of smoke and burning flesh. How could anyone scent that they didn’t belong to us amidst that mayhem?”
“Smart.” Trajan shook his head. “Very smart.”
“Indeed.”
“What was the leader like?” I asked.
“Formidable,” answered Julian. “He sounded of Germanic origin. He spoke Latin clearly but he had an accent.”
“Fascinating. How on earth could he have gotten that many Romans to defect and join him? I can’t imagine that many would do such a thing.”
“Perhaps disgruntled in their foreign province with their governor. Or bitter from some slight under my uncle’s rule.” Julian shrugged.
“That’s easy to imagine, actually,” Trajan corrected himself, “but to go up against a Roman legion. One of hundreds. There can’t be that many of them.”
“I don’t know. But we need to find out.” Julian winced as he shifted in the bed. “This stays between us. No one is to know who or what these barbarians are.”
