Storm and Steel (56 page)

“My lady! I don't think we should tarry here. We're all getting very wet.”

She glowered back at him. She didn't intend to be cruel, but the look made Harxes take a step back. Alyra sighed and brushed the rain-soaked hair from her eyes. He was right; they needed to get moving. The longer they stayed in the city, the better chance trouble would find them. She took another look at the open gate. She thought she heard voices, but it was hard to be sure over the storm. She might have tried her luck alone, but she couldn't risk the lives of her charges.

Finally, she hurried back to the group. “We have to find a different way around.”

Questions came at her, asking why. Alyra shook her head at them. “No time for arguing. We'll go north and try another approach.”

“We're getting close to the wall,” Captain Gurita said in a low grumble.

“The Stone Gate, my lady!” Harxes said, referring to the city's northernmost entry. “Perhaps we could—”

She cut him off. “It will be blocked by the enemy. Or, if not blocked, at least watched. It's too risky.”

When no one commented, she started up the next street. Three blocks to the north, they discovered a public garden she'd forgotten even existed. The gates were open and unguarded, so Alyra took her people inside. The high fence and rows of fruit trees allowed them to move unimpeded. It was surreal to hurry past the tiers of beautiful flowers, so carefully maintained and manicured, their fragrances filling the moist air, while people were fighting and dying less than a mile away.

When they exited the gardens, Alyra went out first alone. The street was clear in all directions. One block to the south was an intersection. A dappled brown-and-white horse lay dead in the middle of the junction. A draft beast, she assumed by the heavy yoke around its neck. Probably part of a wagon team. It had been cut free of its traces and left to lie where it died. Water pooled around the dead animal. Through the gaps between the large houses before her, she could see sections of the old racing stadium.

Alyra waved to the others, and they filed out, all of them soaked to the skin. The children were shivering despite the humid warmth of the day. Forcing herself to smile, she led them down to the intersection. From there it would be only a short walk to the track. The homes along this street looked vacant, without lights in the windows or signs of occupants within.
Everyone is probably hiding, hoping the danger passes them by
.

Part of her wished she had chosen that option. She could be back at Horace's manor, locked up tight and waiting it out. But she'd heard too many stories about enemy occupations over the years. The Akeshian legionnaire was the backbone of the empire, the epitome of modern military perfection, and yet no force was so feared in all the world because of the terrible cruelties they were known to inflict on the peoples they conquered. Alyra didn't want to experience that firsthand.

When she reached the intersection, Alyra peeked down the avenue running east-west in both directions. There was some movement down the eastern way, but it was far off. Most importantly, the path to the stadium appeared empty.

Motioning for her followers to keep up, she rushed down the avenue. The stadium rose before them. A centerpiece of Erugashi sport when chariot racing was popular, before gladiatorial games came into fashion, its former glory was
still evident in the grandeur of its size and design. The high outer walls were battlemented in the ancient style with stone eagles set along the edge. Once they were inside, Alyra hoped they would be safe until Horace arrived.
He'd better be here soon. I don't know how long we can wait
.

She was just about to step onto the brown brick causeway surrounding the stadium when a tremor ran through the wet pavement under her feet. It was more shocking than fearsome. Some pieces of stonework fell from the outer face of the stadium, adding to the detritus of broken brick and overgrown weeds lining its walls, and a flock of black birds flew from the upper levels with a chorus of shrieking caws.

It ended after a few seconds. Alyra waited a moment for her stomach to regain its equilibrium. Then she turned to wave the others forward. As she raised her hand, another quake rumbled through the earth, this one stronger and more sustained. She reached out, but there was nothing to catch her as she stumbled, all sense of balance lost. Many of the household staff fell as well, except for Harxes, who clung to his staff to remain upright, and Dharma, who clung to him, with her children hugged close with one arm.

Alyra was getting back up when she glimpsed movement beyond her people. A mass of soldiers, two or three score, approached from the other side of the intersection. Alyra's heart pounded hard as she saw the crimson and gold colors of their uniforms. Nisusi legionnaires.

“Move!” she yelled.

The sight of the advancing soldiers spurred the people to running. The household guards came in behind to cover their flight. She breathed a little easier when everyone reached the stadium grounds before the soldiers had even crossed the intersection, but her relief died quickly. What would they do now? All she could think of was to get the people inside.

“Go! Go!” She pointed to the nearest gateway. Thankfully, it was not secured by doors or bars, just an open, dark tunnel leading into the vast structure.
Please let it not be blocked inside
.

As the people streamed past her, she watched the enemy soldiers. The rain spattered off their tall oval shields and the planes of their armor. She wracked her brain for an idea. Even if she got the people into the underground tunnels,
the soldiers would eventually run them down. She needed a ploy or a distraction, but she was out of tricks.
Now would be a great time for you to arrive, Horace
.

She was standing on the gateway's threshold as the last of the staff entered past her. The guards took up positions around the entrance.

“Go ahead, my lady,” Captain Gurita said, pointing into the tunnel with his sword. “You tend to them, and we'll hold the gate.”

“No.”

“My lady—”

Alyra stopped him with a raised hand. “One moment, Captain. Harxes!”

The steward hustled back to her. “Yes! The way is clear. But where are we to go from here?”

“Listen carefully.”

As she started giving him instructions on how to find the escape route, Harxes shook his head. “Your Ladyship, why are you telling me this? You lead the way, and we'll follow.”

“No, I'm staying with the guards. We'll buy you the time to get out of the city.”

“No!” both Harxes and the captain said at the same time.

“Both of you listen to me! We're doing this my way. Harxes, go inside and help the others find the tunnel. Captain, I'll need a weapon. Not a sword. A spear will do better, I think.”

She didn't give the steward a chance to continue his argument but shooed him back inside the tunnel. He didn't understand. She couldn't let these men die out here alone. This was her mission. She would see it through to the end.

The Akeshian soldiers were a short bowshot away now. Their front rank had locked shields with pikes extended. Looking at the row of glittering steel points made Alyra feel sick, but she took her place among the defenders. The guards looked nervous, their faces slick with rain. Alyra wanted to say something to boost their spirits, but it would only be empty words. Each guardsman made some private gesture as he prepared for what was to come, whether it was a whispered prayer or touching his heart and forehead in silent genuflection. All except for the captain, who merely stood in the center of their line, his gaze on the approaching enemy.

“How long can we hold them?” she asked.

Gurita leaned over and spat on the bricks at their feet. Wiping off his chin, he replied, “Long enough.”

The Akeshians launched a volley of javelins from their back ranks. Most of the missiles flew too high. Alyra ducked, though none of them came close to hitting her.

“Steady, lads,” Captain Gurita said. “Make them come to us if they want to tangle.”

Alyra grasped her spear with both hands. The rain made the shaft slippery. Suddenly, she needed to pee, of all things. She couldn't help herself from cringing as bestial war cries broke out in the street. She could see the eyes of the enemy under the ridged visors of their helmets.

The enemy increased their pace to a double-time march, pikes lowered. They were only fifty paces away when a hail of darts and short spears rained down on their formation from behind. The Nisusi advance ground to a halt as commands rang out and the soldiers turned to meet this new threat.

Alyra got up on her toes to try to see what was happening, but she didn't have the height. “What's going on?”

“I can't quite say,” Captain Gurita said. “But it looks like we've got some help coming.”

She didn't want to believe it, didn't want to get up her hopes only to have them dashed, but it appeared as if another force had come to their aid. The Nisusi ranks were struggling to turn around in the narrow space of the avenue. Fighting exploded on their flank as a small band of men plunged from the mouth of a side street, and Alyra finally allowed herself to smile. “These are friends, Captain. We need to help them.”

Captain Gurita nodded. “Lads, form up on me.”

Alyra fell in as the guards formed a triangle with their captain at the lead. Gurita lifted his blade, and they all let loose a bellowing shout. As one unit, they charged at the enemy.

She focused on the captain's back as she ran. The distance between the two sides seemed to take forever to cross as her breaths came fast and shallow. Then a screeching clang filled the air. It took her a moment to realize they had
encountered the enemy. The captain's sword rose and fell, making an awful clank with each downswing like he was beating a metal drum. Alyra blinked, and suddenly Gurita was several paces ahead of her.

The guards pushed forward to keep up with their commander, but when Alyra hurried ahead a Nisusi appeared before her. His eyes were hard as flint as he stabbed at her with a shortsword. As she'd been taught back in Nemedia, Alyra pushed the point of her foe's attack to the side with the shaft of her weapon and responded with a forward thrust. The spear jumped in her hand as it connected. The head struck his shoulder without penetrating, but her attack spun him halfway around. One of the household guards opened a deep gash across the soldier's throat. Alyra stepped over the dying man and kept moving.

Twice more she found herself facing an enemy, and both times she fended them off. The second time her counterthrust found a gap in a soldier's armor in his armpit and stabbed deep, crippling him for the others to finish off. The momentary victory filled her with conflicting feelings of hope and sorrow, but there wasn't time to dwell on it.

Sooner than she expected, the fighting ended. She leaned on her spear, gulping down air as fast as her lungs could work and feeling like she'd been running for hours. Blood coated the street and mixed with the water in the gutters. Bodies lay everywhere, giving off a horrible stink that lodged itself in the back of her throat.

Then a familiar face approached her. Jirom was covered in cuts and scratches. “You made it,” she said.

“Sorry we're late. I had to pull Emanon's nuts out of a fire.”

A litter came up carrying the rebel captain. “Don't listen to him,” Emanon said. “I had everything well in hand.”

“Are you all right?” Alyra asked.

“I'll be fine. Just tired of all this walking and thought I'd take a break. Are we ready to go?”

“Where's Horace?” Jirom asked.

“I'm not sure,” Alyra answered. “We ran into some trouble, too, and split up. But I was hoping he'd be here by now.”

Jirom looked back toward the palace. “I'll find him. Where did you last see him?”

“Jirom…,” Emanon said in a low whisper.

“No,” Alyra said. “We can't afford to lose anyone. We have to leave and hope that he catches up.”

Jirom looked her in the eyes, surprising her with the depth of his caring. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now get everyone inside the stadium.”

They worked together to get the wounded fighters into the tunnel. As the darkness closed around her, reminding Alyra of the catacombs under the palace, she hoped Horace was on his way.

His head ached like it was about to split open as Horace staggered down the empty street. The air reeked of ozone and death, a mélange that followed him with every step along with the terrible pain.

He had awoken in a pile of rubble, hurting all over and not sure how he had gotten there. Something had hit him like a kick to the face. Sounds of fighting echoed through the streets, but the plaza had been empty when he came to—except for the numerous dead—and he'd decided it was time to get out of the city. He couldn't stop what was happening here. It had been a fool's errand from the start. He didn't know how many Nisusi had gotten inside the walls, but he was spent. Even if he could think of trying to grasp the
zoana
without flinching, he was tired of fighting.
I've played my role in this disaster. So be it. I'll make my peace with that
.