“Head for the harbor!” Erik called out, in case any other of his band was nearby.
He and Roo made their way as best they could, Erik using his bulk and strength to push through the throng, Roo staying close behind him. He lost sight of the others.
Down a side street they overtook de Loungville. “Where’s the Captain?” shouted Erik.
“Somewhere ahead up there.”
Erik noticed de Loungville had picked up a cut to his arm, and had hastily wrapped it. “You all right?”
De Loungville said, “I’ll live for the next few minutes.”
“Where’s everyone going?” shouted Roo.
“Same place we are,” answered de Loungville. “The docks. The city’s about to fall and everyone is going to be looking for a boat. We’ve just got to get one before anyone else.”
Roo glanced over his shoulder. “At least we got the shipyards ablaze.”
De Loungville said, “At least we did that.”
Then it started to rain.
24
Escape
Erik turned.
“The fires!”
“What do you expect us to do?” the sergeant asked as increasing numbers of people swarmed by him.
Suddenly Calis appeared, forcing his way back to where the two of them stood. Then Nakor and Sho Pi were at his side. “We have to go back!” shouted the little man.
“What can we do?” demanded de Loungville.
“We have to keep the fires burning,” said Nakor. As if to taunt them, the rain increased in urgency, turning from a light sprinkle to a more insistent tattoo. “If we get them hot enough, only the worst storm will put them out.”
Calis nodded. They started moving toward the fires, and Erik looked around for Roo. In the faint hope he could be heard over the din, Erik shouted in the King’s Tongue, “Back to the estuary! Back to the fires!”
Whatever else might be taking place in the city, there was a full-scale riot brewing near the waterfront. Soldiers sent to keep order were joining in the general run for the ships. That the harbor mouth was now jammed by the hulks and only shallow-draft boats could manage to slip out seemed to be of no concern to the citizenry of Maharta.
Ships’ crews tried their best to fend off citizens seeking a haven, and several captains raised sail to put some distance between the docks and their craft. A half-dozen horsemen rode furiously down the street, and men and women screamed as they attempted to get out of the way.
Erik shouted, “Get the horses!” and as the lead animal shied at the press of humanity before it, Erik leaped and took a hold on the arm of the rider, catching him off guard. Erik found surprising strength as he yanked the man from his saddle, given how beat-up he felt. With one crushing blow, he knocked the man unconscious, throwing him to the ground. It was probably a death sentence, as the crowd would trample the man, but Erik had no sympathy for someone who would ride down women and children to make good his own escape.
The horse’s eyes were white with fear and its nostrils flared. It tried to back up and felt the horse behind, and without hesitation it kicked out. The flying hooves caught an innocent trader carrying his last half-dozen jars of valuable unguents, sending them flying through the air to smash on the stones as the stout man was knocked almost senseless. Erik spared a moment to grab the man and haul him to his feet with one hand while gripping hard on the horse’s reins with the other. He shouted at the merchant, “Stay on your feet, man. If you fall, you die.”
The man nodded, and Erik let him go, having no more time to spend. He mounted and saw that Calis and the others had followed his example, save for Nakor, who was being attacked by the one remaining rider. Erik kicked hard at the flank of his animal, and the frightened gelding leaped forward. Erik’s sure hands guided him through the press to where Nakor struggled to avoid being skewered by a scimitar. Erik took out his own blade and with a single roundhouse blow took the rider out of his saddle.
Nakor sprang to the now-empty saddle and said, “Thank you. I grabbed the reins before I thought of how I was to get him to give up his horse.”
Erik urged his animal past Nakor’s and took off up the street after Calis and de Loungville. The two remaining riders seemed content to let them keep the horses as long as they were allowed to keep their own, and did not try to interfere with their passing.
The bulk of the horses parted the swarming mob that would have swept away men on foot. Once they were back on the street leading to the fires, the crowd thinned out. The rain was steady, and as they rounded a corner alongside the estuary, they saw the fires were beginning to abate.