All three screamed and faltered, their legs no longer able to hold their weight. Helpless, they fell to the dirt. Yet, more soldiers filled the gap. I caught a quick glimpse of Kel’Ratan, Witran and the other warriors engaged in hot combat with the Federates, often taking on at least two soldiers at once. Kel’Ratan himself fought the plumed captain and two others, before another tide of men swept between us.
Ly’Tana’s sword sliced through the throat of a soldier, crimson blood careening over his hauberk. I neatly ran another through, kicking him off my steel in order to decapitate yet another purple and gold who sought to stab me. Too many of them, I thought distantly, concentrating all my energy into slaying anyone who came within reach. The fire-haired Princess and I settled into a near-perfect communion, back to back, each of us trusting in the other’s ability to fend off all attacks. Yet, we also both knew, without words, that unless help came we were dead.
I would happily sacrifice my life if it meant Ly’Tana and the others would escape. Perhaps it was a good day to die. I knew, though, that once I went down, Ly’Tana would also die, swarmed under by the mob of hacking, stabbing Federates. None of her own warriors fought close enough to protect her should I fall. That knowledge kept me on my feet, my teeth gritted, determined to stay alive.
Bodies piled around us. In between one breath and the next, I saw Kel’Ratan and the others had fought close enough to the door to the tunnels to escape. The plumed captain lay sprawled in a gory heap, his once-proud feather drenched and drooping with blood. The Kel’Hallans could live, given enough of a head start, even if Ly’Tana and I must perish. While my own life mattered little, Ly’Tana’s life mattered a great deal. I would give anything, do anything, to keep her safe from harm. Too many generations of armored knights protecting the fairer sex in my blood would never allow me to leave Ly’Tana to her fate. My frustration mounted. A distraction, I thought frantically. I needed something to keep the troops busy for even a few moments. But what?
Fire? I cast about frantically for ideas as I absently disemboweled my fifteenth or sixteenth soldier. He shrieked in horror as his entrails spilled onto the dirt. Kneeling, he frantically tried to scoop his bluish-purple intestines back into his body, still shrieking. Bloody hell, the only fire about was the torches in their sconces and those too far away to be of any use. Should I manage to grab one, waving a torch in their faces would hardly hold them back for long.
Rage built a fire in my gut. The daemon tugged at his chain, demanding, howling, slipping from my grasp. I let him go. My fury burned and grew, roaring in my ears, a red haze scudding across my vision. Frustration mixed with anger at my inability to save the princess, and enraged at the gods’ indifference to our fate, I looked up into the dark face of the stars. Blood dripped from my sword, my tunic, my fists.
“Fire!” I bellowed.
My shout caused the battle to pause for an instant. In that instant, several things happened at once. Kel’Ratan regrouped his warriors, casting a frantic glance to Ly’Tana and me across the wave of soldiers. He knew, his glance said, that he could escape while we could not. Ly’Tana seized my arm in a frightened grip while the torches suddenly flared into a terrific surge of flames up the wooden walls. The soldiers ceased fighting, and stared in wonder and panic as the fire tasted wood and found it palatable. Flames licked the heavy oak walls, greedily devoured the thick pillars, climbed like a wild orange and yellow trellis upward and outward, over the top. Heavy, thick smoke swirled up, boiling into the night air, shutting out the faint starlight.
The conflagration grew. The flames spat out bright sparks, some dying on the dirt floor of the arena. Yet many more survived to ignite smaller fires that quickly grew into hungry monsters. Federal soldiers backed away, retreating from the flames only to find themselves encircled.
Kel’Ratan also retreated, drawing his warriors back toward the door into the tunnels. His blood-splashed face frantic, his eyes panicked, as he gestured in vain with his arm for us to come to him. His mouth opened in a shout I could not hear.
Before I could react, however, fire burned my bare shoulder. A random spark, I thought, hastily brushing it out. Another struck and burned my hand.
Ly’Tana screamed.
Sparks, no, a rain of fire fell from the open sky into the arena. I looked up. Small fires the size of coals dropped from the sky above, the stars obscured by both the brightness of the flames and the smoke they trailed. It appeared as though the heavens above had begun to blaze and dripped huge celestial sparks.
Now brightly lit from the flames rapidly climbing the walls, I could clearly see the soldiers begin to panic. Large specks of flame drifted down from nowhere in a steady stream and set ablaze anything they touched. As thick as snow, a rain of fire streamed down from the heavens in answer to my prayer.
As I watched in frozen shock, a soldier’s cloak caught fire. He screamed as the flames engulfed him in an instant. He inhaled to scream again, drawing not breath but fire into his lungs. His scream choked off, his body danced a quickstep, a dying jig, his legs and feet scrambling ineffectually to keep him upright and alive. Flames caressed his face like a lover’s fingers, melting his eyelids, shutting his nostrils, his hair now a thick forest of fire. I shuddered, chills breaking ground all over my flesh despite the intense heat.
He fell over at last, mercifully hiding his blackened face from my view. I covered Ly’Tana with my arms and shoulders, hoping to shield her from both the flames and the sight of men dying the most horrible of deaths. I wasn’t sure who trembled the most, Ly’Tana or me. Her hands reached about my waist, her face buried in my chest. Heat from the inferno scorched my skin, forcing me backwards. Smoke trailed upwards from Ly’Tana’s hair.
This cannot be normal fire, I thought distractedly, in near terror. No living fire caught and burned that fast. Then another Federal sparked into living flame like a torch. With a sound like wind through a narrow tunnel, the flames climbed his body, his armor hauberk and greaves melting like butter. Mercifully, he died quickly, his body falling backward into a burning pillar, his blackened husk vanishing into the greater flames. The stench of roasting flesh seared my nostrils; I tasted its thick oily texture on my tongue.
Troops broke off the fight to battle the flames burning their comrades, yet naught they did made the slightest difference. Even more soldiers caught fire like blades of dry grass in a high wind. Most bolted in terror, dropping weapons suddenly too hot to hold. Wooden hafts of pikes and halberds suddenly ran with flame. Forgetting all save their own skins, the remaining Federates leaped screaming companions without thought and ran past the startled Kel’Hallans as if they weren’t there.
Taking Ly’Tana with me, still shielding her, I jumped back as the hungry flames reached for us. A burning wall behind me collapsed in on itself, crashing down in a flurry of sparks and wild flame. I ducked, and spun, dodging the fire leaping toward us. Behind the spreading flames grew a hole large enough to escape through. I could see darkness, and people, beyond.
On the other side of the arena, Kel’Ratan watched the Federation’s finest flee in shock and terror. Behold, lightning from the gods, I thought with a moronic kind of humor. I yelled and waved an arm to catch his attention. I had no need, for Kel’Ratan’s eyes never wavered from the sight of his beloved princess in my arms.
“Go!” I shouted to Kel’Ratan. “Get out!”
Despite the smoke and flames, I clearly saw him hesitate. Eyes reddened from heat and smoke, coughing, unwilling to follow his warriors into the tunnel, he anxiously danced from foot to foot. If he could cross the rain of fire and the conflagration to reach us, he would have. I all but read his mind. Could he trust me, the huge scarred gladiator who just the night before had Kel’Ratan’s knife at his throat? Dare he trust in a ruthless slave named The Wolf? What would prevent me from holding the princess hostage and set him to jumping through my hoops?
All communication failed me. I wished him to know he could trust me, but I had no way of proving th
at to him, with all the fires of hell between us.
“I’ll take care of her! I swear!”
He nodded, forced to accept my word. He flicked me a half-salute, and also a gesture that told me much. I wanted to laugh. That gesture promised fierce retribution should I harm the princess. Fear not, my red friend, I thought. Should any harm befall Ly’Tana, I would already be dead.
The warriors who had not yet gone through the door turned back, their eyes also sending me uneasy looks. He ushered them through, then paused for one last glance. Harm her at your peril, those eyes said. Don’t worry about her, I thought back at him. She will be safe. I have her, and you have my brother.
“Quick,” I hissed to Ly’Tana. “Where would you meet if you’re separated?”
“The Jefe Monastery,” she replied, instantly understanding my drift.
“My lord!” I yelled once more.
Kel’Ratan paused, turning back, hope etching his craggy, bloody face. Perhaps he thought I found a way through the fire to reach him after all. The smoke and stench of scorched meat swam between us but our eyes met for a brief, interminable moment. “Jefe!”
A swift grin etched his rugged face and he was gone, into the depths of the chamber, the door shutting behind him. An instant later, the fire tasted the wall, climbed high and burned merrily.
“Now we go.”
I seized the Princess’s shoulder and wheeled her around. Without more urging, she ran with me, toward the doorway into the cool night, the doorway the flames themselves created for us. I ran behind her, protecting her from both the flames and any still living Federates who may yet feel it their duty to capture her. I had no need to worry, however. Those soldiers who survived fled with us, or ran past us. A few cast startled glances our way, as though not sure whether to stop us or join us. Yet, none tried to fight. The fire from nothing frightened them beyond any coherent thought of continuing the attack. I supposed a few desertions would be in order, as I doubted many of them would stay behind to report on the disaster.
Ly’Tana was fast, I’ll give her that. While I wanted to stay close to protect her from fire or troops, she outran me. She nearly stepped on the boots of the few troops ahead of us, those who also recognized the hole as the route to survival. They bolted through it and vanished. In seconds, we skinned through the burning wall, the night cooling our scorched hides.
Not a moment too soon, either. Behind us, walls crashed in, sending more flames to nip our heels. The frightened spectators outside scattered like pigeons, their cries and shouts muffled under the heavy roar of the flames.
A swift glance behind showed me the mysterious rain of fire had ceased, but the entire arena was now engulfed. I spared a moment to hope the gladiators in their barracks had also fled in the confusion, perhaps to even escape slavery altogether. When disasters struck, people tended to count noses only after calm descended. By that time, those clever enough might be hours, or days, away and free.
Outside, under the stars and away from the heat, stench and choking smoke, I took hold of Ly’Tana’s hand. The flames lit the dark as brightly as the noontime sun, the moist night air cooling our sweat-dampened skin and clothes. Ly’Tana’s hair ceased to smoke. I took a ragged breath, trying not to cough.
Shouting people ran toward us, toward the dying arena, carrying buckets of water. Soldiers and citizens alike dashed to save what was left of the shattered buildings. Yet the savage heat drove them back. They lifted arms to shield their faces from the inferno, smoke roiling upwards toward the stars. They paid us little heed, more concerned with the horror and fascination of the fire than with two smoke-smudged survivors.
“This way,” I muttered.
I led her to the right, away from the crowds gathering to watch the spectacle, toward the collection of buildings several rods from the burning arena. I wondered for a moment if they, too, would catch fire, but found I could not summon the effort to care.
In the sheltering darkness of shadows, I paused to look back. None of the crowd seemed to be watching us, nor pointed us out to the newly arrived soldiers. Occupied with the conflagration, we could vanish with no one trying to follow. At least for the next few hours, anyway. This fire was a god-sent distraction and would give us a terrific head start.
Ly’Tana coughed, her lungs hacking smoke. My own chest ached with holding the coughs in, but I forced both of us into a jog. Down alleys and side streets, I kept us to the shadows and dark, my eyes gradually adjusting to the night.
“What caused that fire?” Ly’Tana asked, her coughs slowing, her voice hoarse.
I hesitated, long enough for me to catch a swift glance askance from her. “The gods,” I said slowly.
Unsurprisingly, she snorted. “The gods don’t interfere with us on a scale like that. Not even my goddess, Nephrotiti, would do so.”
“Then how would you explain it? The fire came from the very air itself.”
“It followed on your shout,” she said. “I reckon you are magical, like your friend.”
My turn came to snort. “Not bloody likely, Highness. I’m about as magical as yonder tree stump.”
Shrugging, Ly’Tana changed the subject, to my silent relief. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Over the city wall.”
“How?”
I stopped long enough to clean my sword on a woman’s laundry hanging to dry from a balcony. Ly’Tana followed suit, sheathing her blade in once fluid motion. I sheathed mine, and wiped my still-bloody hands on a freshly washed tunic. My shoulder, quiescent during the fight and subsequent flight, now woke and began to ache in earnest. I briefly wondered how extent the damage might be, and whether it would fail me when I really needed it. I dismissed the pain with a mental shrug. While I glanced about to get my bearings and scout for potential trouble, I explained.
“Long ago, when I was young and foolish, I would fantasize about escaping. How I would accomplish it, where would I go, what route I could take. As I got familiar with the city, I discovered a row of houses built negligently close to the city wall.”
I grinned down into the Princess’s beautiful upturned face, her fascinating uptilted green eyes. “The City Watch patrols the area, but they seldom look up.”
“The rooftops,” Ly’Tana breathed, her answering grin flashing white teeth in the darkness.
“Indeed.”
I took her hand again, and began to jog through the alley. While it was no longer necessary, I closed her hand in mine. Never before had I held hands with a woman. It felt soft, small and delicate, yet strong. My imagination roamed, wondering how other parts of her might feel against mine. A blush began somewhere north of my neck and leisurely travelled upwards. Gods be thanked it was dark. Strangely enough, she did not object to my taking liberties with her, a mere slave manhandling her royal person. My thoughts skittered over the possibilities, but I did not dare dwell on the reasons for that lack.
“The jump from the roof to the top of the wall is considerable,” I went on, struggling to keep my voice normal. For some odd reason it came out hoarse. The smoke, no doubt. “But you’re strong and I’ll be on the wall to catch you.”
“And the drop from the wall to the ground?”
“About five or six rods, Highness.” I glanced at her sidelong. “Can you do it?”
With a negligent wave of her free hand, she dismissed the distance. “If I can’t, I don’t deserve the title of warrior. I’ve dropped further while climbing trees as a youngster.”
As we ran, Ly’Tana unbuckled her sword belt, then refastened it across her chest. Thus her sword and quiver lay comfortably against her back, and within easy reach. Her bow she kept in her left hand. Since I seldom rode horses while armed, or ran as I fought, I always kept my sword sheathed at my hip. Now I imitated her, buckling my sword belt across my chest. With the hilt just behind my left shoulder, I could draw it swiftly and it no longer slapped my leg as I ran. Ly’Tana watched with approval in her slanted green eyes.
For some
odd reason, her approval raised within me a sharp irritation. Who was she, to approve or disapprove of me? I may have been a slave until a few days ago, but I wasn’t her slave. I helped her rescue her griffin, fought and killed men to protect her, risked my life for what? Her approval?
“I have to hand it to you, Your Highness,” I said, my tone careless. “You sure don’t run like a girl.”
Whether she caught my anger or not, her smile vanished. “I should hope not. We warriors might fight from horseback, but we also condition ourselves to run. Run fast and over great distances.”
“I suppose that comes in handy when you run from a fight.”
Had I been blind, I might have missed the flash in those emerald eyes. Darkness alone could not have hidden it. So the vixen was easily provoked.
“Bastard,” she hissed.
“Actually, I’m not.” I grinned down into those uptilted eyes. “My parents were married in front of witnesses.”
“A marriage in a gutter with rats for witnesses,” she snarled.
I laughed. “Ah, she scores! A triumph for the princess from Kel’Halla, she has a terrific season ahead of her.”
“I’ve killed men for less insult than what you just offered.”
“And I suppose you want to kill me, is that it?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “A fine way to save yourself a bit of gold, wouldn’t you say? Get the big oaf to help rescue your pet, then kill him. Rewarding a corpse is much, much easier. Cheaper, too.”
She stiffened. “My honor wouldn’t permit such a thing.”
“Honor?” I scoffed. “Honor is for morons.” I sighed. “And here I thought you were better than that.”
“Better to die with honor than to live as a slave.” Ly’Tana spat at the ground by my feet. “A dog’s death is all you can look forward to.”
My temper, always near at hand, rose several notches. “Be careful of how you speak of slavery, Your High-handedness. I wasn’t born a slave.”
“Once a slave, always a slave,” she sneered.
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