ELLA breathed a sigh of relief when she found him. She had Jehral to thank; in the maze of Seranthia's streets, she never would have located the prince on her own.
Prince Ilathor was the centre of a flurry of activity, with messengers and warriors rushing up to him and then leaving as he gave them orders.
"The Alturans have captured the Imperial Palace, Your Highness," a Hazaran rider called above the din, pulling up his horse beside the prince's, "and the Tingaran High Lord, Moragon, is dead, but there is no sign of the Primate."
"They are welcome to the palace," Prince Ilathor said, "it's the Primate I'm after. He cannot be allowed to flee. This will not be over until he has been destroyed, and his evil with him. If he isn't at the palace where will he be?"
"How about the harbour?" one of the tarn leaders said. "Between the two armies, we have the city surrounded on all landward sides. They say the imperial fleet is keeping the harbour in the hands of the enemy. It is the only route of escape left."
"My prince!"
Prince Ilathor turned when he heard the cry, and then drew back in shock when he saw Jehral. "Jehral, Lord of Fire, man, you need to see a healer."
Ella rode just behind Jehral, her arms around his waist, and he was covered in blood from head to toe. A shallow wound on his neck seeped red, and he held his left arm awkwardly. Ella felt terrible asking him for help, but she had no one else to turn to.
"You need to hear what she has to say," Jehral said.
Prince Ilathor scowled. "There's a battle going on, Jehral, and I have to find…"
"Ilathor," Jehral said, and the prince's eyes widened at the use of his first name. "I know there's a battle going on. I've been at the front of it. Listen to her."
"Prince Ilathor," Ella said. "There's a statue on an island, just outside the harbour. It's called the Sentinel."
"I know what it is. What of it?" the prince demanded.
"I believe there's a great magic there, something very powerful, and our enemy is prepared to use it. I need your help. Please."
"Explain to me. I don't understand."
"I don't have time to explain. I need you to help me."
The prince tilted his head for a moment. "No," he finally said. "Jehral, you may help her, but there is too much here to do."
Ella's heart sunk.
"My prince…" Jehral began.
"Ilathor, if the Primate reaches his goal, none of what you are doing here will matter!" Ella cried.
"The Primate?" the prince asked. "You know where he is?"
"Yes," Ella cried. "That's what I'm trying to explain! He's on his way to the Sentinel. He may be there by now."
Prince Ilathor issued swift orders.
Ella breathed a sigh of relief. She just hoped they would be in time.
65
"THE CRUISER ahead, heading for the Sentinel, it is flying the Primate's flag." Sailmaster Scherlic pointed.
"Can you get closer?" Miro asked.
As if in answer, a boom sounded as one of the imperial warships fired a warning shot across the bow of the Infinity, a gout of water erupting from the sea as the orb exploded. Miro could see a catapult mounted on a swivel on the warship's deck.
"This is as close as I will take you," said Sailmaster Scherlic.
Miro fumed as he saw how close he was. The wide mouth of Seranthia's harbour lay in front of him, and here the Primate was, most likely fleeing the city, about to pass the Sentinel and make his escape under the protection of the imperial fleet.
Miro could see smoke rising from the city in several places. He didn't know if the Hazarans had taken the city, or if Rogan had led his men to victory, but he knew that momentous events were occurring there. Yet Miro also knew it wouldn't end until the Primate himself was taken. He couldn't miss this chance.
Miro turned to the stocky loremaster of Raj Buchalantas.
"Every house has fought in this war," Miro said. "The terror, the bloodshed; it has touched all of us. I have lost those I loved, and I have fought this enemy with every bit of strength I possess. I have sent men to their deaths, knowing that their sacrifice would save a larger number, yet knowing that it was my decision that ended their lives."
Sailmaster Scherlic looked at Miro impassively, his expression unreadable.
"Every house has fought in this war," Miro said, "except yours. House Buchalantas is neutral. That's what you say, isn't it?"
"It is not our fight," Scherlic said in his deep, accented voice.
"When does it become your fight? How do you think the Buchalanti would fare under the single rule that the Primate desires? Do you think you'll keep your much-vaunted independence?" He thrust his finger at Scherlic's chest. "We've given a lot to get to this point. More than you'll ever understand. Now it's time to make a choice, Sailmaster."
Scherlic looked out at the warships, and then back to Miro.
"The time for neutrality is past," Miro said. "This ship is a Buchalanti storm rider. Those Tingaran-made ships over there? They're just ships." Miro gestured at the glowing runes that covered the sails, the silver symbols that coated the decks of the Infinity. "Why have this power if you aren't prepared to use it?"