Servant of the Empire

They stumbled to the base of the stairs. Lujan halted as more guardsmen joined ranks, reinforcing the square of protection around their mistress. The outer ranks linked arms, and they resumed course down the avenue as the magician behind them cried, ‘Rain!’

 

 

The resonance of the voice had damped slightly. Kevin sucked air into burning lungs and hoped the change meant their progress had distanced them from the vortex of spells and trauma Milamber called in judgment upon the crowd. The heavens opened, and icy drops slashed the air. The first fall sheeted into a downpour, soaking all in the street to the skin. The last light vanished. Eyes squinting against the storm of elements, Kevin ran. He kept hold of Mara’s wrist, though her skin became slippery, and her steps dragged against the cling of sodden formal robes. The rattle of rainfall against cobbles and armour blended with the slap of fleeing feet. The cries of the crowd seemed dimmer, whipped to misery and despair.

 

‘Keep going,’ Kevin exhorted Mara.

 

A few steps more, and he sensed the rain lessening with each stride.

 

The Acoma retinue reached the street that bordered the arena, and the distant voice of Milamber cried, ‘Fire!’

 

A collective peal of terror arose from inside the stadium. Mara looked back in horror, afraid for the unfortunates who were still trapped. Kevin turned to hurry her on and, through the pattering fall of thinning droplets, saw a thing of terrifying, alien beauty. A display of flames played through clouds that even yet splashed icy wetness upon the earth. Jagged bolts of lightning rent the sky. A burning sting grazed Kevin’s cheek as a rain of pure fire began to fall.

 

Mara screamed. Flame blossomed in the silks that covered her head, and the wet did not stop them igniting. Soldiers slapped at the flames with their gauntlets, and the odour of seared hide and lacquer grew choking on the smoke-filled air. They ran. Falling fires spattered sparks across the pavement, and, in fear for their lives, they ran harder.

 

Lujan pointed. ‘There!’ A hundred yards away, across a streaming expanse of puddles and flame, sunlight shone down untroubled.

 

Kevin dragged Mara into a sprint, and still those last hundred yards stretched like miles. And then they were safe in the sunlight.

 

The soldiers slowed to catch their breath at stern orders from Lujan. Winded men made poor fighters, and the streets were a seething mass of frightened people and soldiers battle-ready to defend their Lords. Kevin seized the respite to look back. The madness above the arena had not stopped. Fire splashed down in lurid streaks, and the cries of the dying and the injured mingled into one vast wail.

 

The streets were packed with suffering, blazing scarecrows that danced and flapped in an agony of burning. Singed survivors raced into safety and collided with craftsmen and slaves who had paused about their business to gape. Many had fallen prostrate out of fear, while others made protective signs against the gods’ displeasure; the most simple just stood in mute astonishment.

 

A faint word carried over the confusion. Kevin couldn’t make out the meaning, but at a wave from Lujan he gently urged Mara forward. ‘Do your feet hurt? We’d better keep moving. I think we’re still a little close to the action.’

 

Mara blinked, white-faced with exhaustion. Numbly she said, ‘The matter of shoes must wait. To the town house.’

 

Lujan sent one soldier ahead to bring more warriors from the garrison to guard the Lady in her walk across town. Skilful in his guidance, the Force Commander kept to quiet streets; he avoided the temple precinct, where worshippers and priests seethed around offering-tables, chanting and singing a rush of placating prayers. Runners hastened on unknown errands, and beggars roved districts that were not in their usual province. Wary of attack, the soldiers kept together; Kevin kept a grip on Arakasi’s knife. No ambush materialized, but an odd buzzing sensation rippled through the ground underfoot.

 

The vibration swelled to a deep-throated rumbling, and Kevin knew a flash of fear. ‘Earthquake!’ he shouted. ‘Into that doorway! Now!’

 

Lujan and his warriors wheeled smartly. They forced aside a trio of commoners who sheltered under the arch of an alehouse door. Made of solid stone, the portal had once supported two wooden panels, torn down forgotten years before.

 

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