“We must go!” the young man yelled. “Follow us!”
Celty followed as best she could. They maneuvered through the smoke-filled stable, pieces of ceiling falling with every step they took. At one point Celty put a hand to her face, to wipe away her smoke-stained tears as she plunged through the near-inferno.
“Left!” the older man hollered. She followed the instruction, even though she wasn’t sure what lay in this direction.
Unexpectedly they spilled out into a small paddock. The fence on the far side of it was already collapsed, likely from the rush of panicked horses attempting to escape.
Celty drew in deep breaths of air the moment they moved out of the stable. She coughed, her throat burning. Her eyes stung.
“Keep going,” the older man rasped as he turned his head back to look at her and the other man. “We must – ”
“Ah, there you are,” drawled an unfamiliar voice. “We have been looking for you. What a pleasure to find you have trapped yourselves. It takes care of so much work for us.”
Celty snapped her head up. There was a soldier standing just outside the paddock, his emerald armor glimmering in the firelight. Four men flanked him, wry smiles on their faces. She stumbled back, only to encounter the outside wall of the stable.
Inside, another beam crashed down, sending a glittering spray of ash and fire up into the air. The stable was seconds away from collapsing in on itself.
All five soldiers pulled their katanas from their sheaths as Celty’s two companions drew their own weapons.
Three against five, she thought. A small chance.
“Stay back,” the older man murmured to the younger, pushing him back with his free hand. The younger man shook his head.
“No. I will fight,” he replied
The five advanced at once, shouting like animals as they vaulted over the fence and into the paddock. Two soldiers headed for each of Celty’s companions while the other one barreled toward her. Celty sucked in a sharp breath, and as the soldier got close, ducked. His katana bit into the stable wall behind her.
She shoved into him, driving her shoulder deep into his gut. He sputtered as she drove forward, forcibly pushing him across the paddock with her body until he collided with another soldier. The two fell down, bare heads cracking into each other.
Celty snatched up a rock from the ground and threw it into her attacker’s face. Blood burst from his nose; the man became still. His fingers slackened, releasing his katana onto the ground.
Without hesitation, Celty grabbed his sword and raised it. She bared her teeth at the three Ameyas still standing. All of them stared at her, momentarily shocked into stillness by her wild ferocity.
The fighting resumed as all three soldiers advanced toward Celty. She dodged their sword thrusts, twirling out of reach of the long blades.
The young man plunged forward, stepping between her and the soldiers. Flanked by the older one, the two men cut their enemies down to two, then one.
Celty stepped back, nostrils flared.
Who were these men?
The remaining soldier fell, a blade in his heart.
Celty caught her breath. Had the three of them won?
The young man fell his knees, trembling. Whether his shaking was due to exertion or terror, Celty couldn’t tell.
She narrowed her eyes. He seemed a bit . . . clean for a battle like this.
Why would those soldiers be following these two men, anyhow?
“I . . . I killed him,” the young man rasped to the other.
The older man put a hand on his shoulder. “These are no innocent men. We are no longer training in the courtyard for the day when you’ll need the skills. That day has come! You are no longer a boy, but a man. You’ve killed to save a life.”
“But…I killed someone!”
“They would have killed you. This is the way of it. You will have to accept that. This is the way of it from now on. We either kill, or be killed ourselves.”
The last of the ceiling crashed down through the stables, an entire wall succumbing along with it. Celty scrambled away as the fire greedily consumed the dry wood.
Light from the stable fire flared into the sky, casting a bright glow on the two men with her. Celty stared as the darkness dissipated in the wake of a strange light from the moon. She craned her head back. “The gods,” she murmured.
A bright, crimson moon hung in the sky, casting a bloody light over the whole world. The sight sent a tremor of fear through her, dredging up the feelings of unease she’d felt for so long.
She thought of Jin, then banished it. Perhaps he’d found freedom when all this death fell on the city.
The older man cursed under his breath. “A wicked moon this night.”
“What does it mean?” the young man asked, pushing himself to his feet.
“Something evil has possessed the lands,” Celty said. Her voice rang through the paddock.
The men shifted their gazes from the moon to her face. She lifted an eyebrow as an awkward silence ensued.
As the light of the strange moonlight illuminated their features again, Celty suddenly recognized the face of the young man. Her gaze darted to the other.
No! The two men who had saved her were Prince Isao and General Khalem!
She’d seen them often enough riding their regal horses. She’d never interacted with them – no slave would dare approach the Emperor’s son – but she’d seen the Prince enough to know his face. Isao made routine visits in the city to see his people, shopping from the markets to support them.
But never had he come to observe the slaves in their cages.
Her lips started to curl in a sneer, but she forced it back.
The truth was, she’d never seen Isao or Khalem around the auction block. To her knowledge, and that of the other slaves as well, they had never owned another human.
Besides, no matter what he had or hadn’t done in the past, Isao had just helped her now. He had charged into the inferno to save her when Khalem would have left her for dead. But then the General had knocked away the falling beam that would have killed her. And, when the five soldiers would have killed her, the two of them had fought to protect her.
Perhaps the free wealthy had some redeeming qualities after all.
Yet…how could someone risk that much when he didn’t know anything about her…and likely wouldn’t work that hard to find out anything about her? No one ever did.
Prince Isao and his family lived a sheltered and pampered life in the palace. Chances were the Emperor and his son actually knew little about the troubles plaguing the Empire. Their “soft” lives would have hampered their abilities to truly see.
Although, Celty grudgingly had to admit, Isao deserved some respect: He had killed two of the five – and didn’t even vomit afterwards, despite it being his first killings. Too, he had chosen to risk his own life for someone who was clearly a slave . By the strange light filling his eyes right now – dare she call it compassion? – it seemed he would do so again without fail.
Celty blinked, shaking herself out of these thoughts. She forced a calm expression onto her face.
“No wonder they chased you, Prince Isao. And General Khalem,” she said, giving each a nod of recognition.
Isao’s nostrils flared briefly, but he too put a calm demeanor on his face. “Yes. No doubt many more will.”
General Khalem eyed her studiously, a cool hauteur in his eyes. She met his gaze, refusing to look away. As he glared at her, she noticed he rubbed at his right shoulder.
“I’ll see to gathering the horses,” he said to Isao in a curt tone. “We must leave immediately. More will follow.”
He slipped in between two wooden slats fencing the paddock, moving away. Celty didn’t follow him, just side-stepped further away from the blazing heat of the fire. When Isao followed her, she ignored him.
Instead, Celty looked at the road leading away from the paddock and narrowed her eyes. What now? Where should she got? She kept her shoulders back and her chin up. She may not know what to do with freedom now that she had it, but she certainly wouldn’t let the Prince see her uncertainty.