Page 56 of Firebird
“As long as I’ve drawn breath and at least in my parents’ time, your kind have always been the same.”
That was not a compliment. Not that I expected one.
I moved ahead of her to enter the tent first, as I heard and smelled a familiar scent inside. It was Koska, a stout Macedonian who usually tended to my tent and needs on campaigns.
He immediately stood at attention near the war table, where he’d been spreading out maps of the territory as I’d requested.
“Legatus.” He lowered his gaze. “I have made all of the accommodations you commanded.”
There was one in particular that had given Koska a moment’s pause, but only a short one, then he’d gone about to do as I asked. I’d left him late last night in order to make the journey back to Rome, knowing I’d be making the trek a third time.
I’d never arrived early to tend to my tent arrangements. It had never been important to me. But this time was different. And thoughKoska certainly recognized my behavior as odd, he never said a word or looked anything but conciliatory and professional.
Remembering what Malina had said, that dragons had always been the same, cut me deeper than she might know. I wanted a different Rome, a different legacy for my kind. But could I trust to tell her?
“That will be all, Koska.”
He kept his head bowed, his gaze on the ground, and hurried past without even looking at Malina. She let out a low whistle.
“Is that how I’m supposed to behave?”
“Koska is accustomed to working around temperamental military men. He is efficient and brief.”
She snorted and wandered around the room like she owned it, reminding me of the first time I caught her snooping through my books in my bedchamber. Then, she’d been afraid of me. Watching her curious nature take hold, without fear of me now, opened a bloom of warmth in my chest.
“You can put some clothes on, Legatus,” she said, staring down at a map on the table. “Am I supposed to assist you?” She swallowed hard, still observing the map, or simply avoiding looking at me.
“That won’t be necessary. Today.”
Smiling, I ducked behind the curtain that would serve as our bedchamber. Koska had done well, constructing two low beds within the chamber. Between them there was a small space with a low table and a rug beneath. The rug wasn’t of a fine weave like I had back in Rome. But I didn’t expect it. I only wanted a private space where I could keep watch over Malina at night, where we might share time together over dinner when the war talks were over. Where I might listen to her voice telling me stories of her past.
Opening my trunk, I pulled out my uniform and began to dress, needing to costume myself in all the trappings of the conqueror. Especially since I’d brought a female on a war campaign, and I’d never done that before.
I’d contemplated the risks of bringing Malina, but the thought of leaving her behind in Rome where anything could happen to her was beyond my forbearance. I needed her near me, no matter what others might think of my behavior. It wasn’t as if women weren’t often brought on campaigns to satisfy men’s urges. But it was highly uncommon for a Roman legatus, specifically me, to bring a female to war.
And still, I didn’t fucking care. Malina was mine to protect and keep safe. The only problem was how this changed my other plans with Gaius and Trajan and the others. It put a shrinking timeline on how long I could keep my new attachment a secret from my uncle. For once he caught on—and he would—he’d begin to doubt me and he’d use Malina as leverage against me. The thought sent a cold chill through my blood. Not to mention that my advantage in our plans would vanish like vapor.
“The doors are overly tall and wide,” she called, having wandered a circuit of the tent twice. I was constantly attuned to her movements. “Does that mean that soldiers wander around in half-skin often in the camp?”
There was a nervous trill to her voice that I didn’t like. I fastened my paludamentum, my red cloak signifying my rank as general, to the clasps on both shoulders, then I stepped from behind the curtain.
She turned from where she stood near the opening of the tent, her eyes widening at my appearance. A Roman in military uniform should instill fear, or at the very least disgust, in her. However, there was the hint of admiration in her gaze.
“Did you hear what I asked?” She was using bravado to hide her concern. And perhaps her surprised attraction.
“No. The men do not walk about in half-skin. But the officers will return from battle in that form, of course.”
“Why just the officers?”
“Because only Roman patricians can be officers. Only dragons. And they’ll be hot-blooded when they return from battle. You’re to always stay in this tent unless I’m accompanying you.”
She nodded. “So what happens now?”
“I need to walk the encampment and see my soldiers. They’ll all be arriving within the hour.”
“Is that normal for a Roman general? Seems rather tedious.”
“It’s necessary since I inherited my army from an undisciplined general who had no control over his men. And since the last time most of them saw me, I’d ripped one of their own in half following a victory.” I stepped closer, forcing myself to stop within a foot of her, curling my hands into loose fists to keep from touching her. “That is not normal behavior for a general.”
