? ? ?
Volar came into view the following morning. Reva raised herself into a back-straining crouch to get a better view as they crested a hill a mile or so west of the Imperial capital. The road, flanked on both sides with more corpse-bearing poles, became an unerring straight line at the foot of the hill, drawing the eye to the western suburbs, consisting of tree-lined rows of one-or two-storey houses. Volar appeared to have no walls or defensive fortifications, the Shield explaining they had been swallowed up by the city’s growth centuries before.
“The largest city in the world, or so it’s said,” he told her. “Though I’ve heard there are a few in the Far West that might also claim the title.”
The height of the buildings grew as they moved deeper into Volar, plush individual dwellings giving way to close-packed streets and tenements. Mazelike avenues stretched away from the road, reminding her of Varinshold’s less salubrious districts, now of course razed to the ground.
“She wanted to burn all of this,” the Shield said softly, frowning as he gazed at the passing streets. “And we would have helped her wield the torch.”
Reva’s thoughts flashed to Lehra, as they often had during this dreadful journey. She had been one of the free fighters to emerge from the forest country south of Alltor, leading a group of a dozen other girls, all freed from the slavers’ clutches by their own agency, steeped in blood and hungry for more. Reva recalled how they had gathered around her, sinking to their knees in unbidden respect; the tale of the Blessed Lady had already flown far and seeing her in the flesh seemed a confirmation of a cherished legend, a sign that their sufferings had not been in vain. The awe in Lehra’s eyes that day had been no less bright than the moment she died. Her voice was so full of joy . . . She died believing my lie.
“The barest chance is all I need,” she muttered to the Shield. “Just one chance at freedom and I’ll burn this place to the ground.”
He slumped back down, voice faint and bitter, “It was all a madwoman’s dream, my lady. And she made us mad with the sharing of it. Look at this place. How could we have thought to bring down an empire capable of crafting a city like this?”
“We crushed an army that should have crushed us,” Reva pointed out. “Their cities may be strong but they are weak, their souls blackened and sickened by ages of cruelty.”
He lifted his wrists, jangling the chains. “And yet, here we are. Brought here to die for their amusement.”
“‘Despair is a sin against the Father’s love, for it is but indulgence, whilst hope is a virtue of the stronger soul.’”
“Which one is that?”
“The Third Book, The Book of Struggle, Verse three, Trials of the Prophets.” She realised the Book of Reason had been absent from her thoughts since her capture. And why not? Reason will not avail me here.
? ? ?
The Volarians seemed highly fond of statuary, bronze warriors for the most part, standing amidst the cascading fountains and neatly kept parks that greeted them once they cleared the cramped outskirts. However, the most salient feature of the city’s inner region was the towers, great marble structures of hard-edged symmetry rising on all sides. Strangely this district seemed mostly empty but for the huddled forms of slaves tending the parks or scrubbing bird droppings from the statues. Reva supposed the absence of citizenry might be explained by the sight of the bodies that hung from the towers by the dozen. Some had clearly been strung up whilst still alive judging by the red-brown streaks that adorned the high walls.
“Their Empress seems keen to make an impression,” the Shield observed.
The wagon train drew up to the largest structure they had yet seen, a tall oval-shaped wonder of red and gold marble. It stood fully seventy feet high, constructed in five tiers, and differed markedly from the other architecture she had seen. There was little evidence of the Volarian liking for straight edges here, the tiers constructed from elegant arches and gently curved columns resembling the stem of a wineglass.
“The great arena of Volar, my lady,” Ell-Nestra said. “Enjoy the view, it’s unlikely either of us will see another.”