'This is the latest communication from Protarus, she said. I received it only this morning.
'Apparently the young King Protarus has seen the error of his ways. He now understands the value and rightness of our neutrality. He has taken back all his demands and now only asksquite politely, I might addthat we sell his army badly needed supplies at a fair price.'
The queen's news charged the crowd into an even greater fever. They shouted joy until they were hoarse, applauded until their fingers were numb.
Then Arma said, What say you, my loyal subjects? Shall we be magnanimous in our victory? Shall we show King Protarus what civilized people are like?'
Shouts of agreement sealed the bargain. People wept and clutched one another, praising the gods for coming to their aid in this time of need.
In the middle of the chaos, Safar crept over to Methydia. This isn't good, he said. I know Iraj. He'd never back down so easily.'
Methydia nodded. Safar had told her about his boyhood friendship with Protarus and the vision he'd had of Iraj's conquering army. He'd left out only the fight with the demons.
'We'll finish this show and make ready to leave, she said, not bothering to lower her voice in the din of all those tearful, joyous people. We'll depart at dawn, she continued. The whole city will be so sick with from celebrating no one will notice.'
They completed the show, although the whole troupesensing the wrongness in the airwas much subdued. The queen thanked them when it was over and rewarded Methydia with more bolts of rich Sampitayan silk.
It wasn't easy to make preparations to slip away. There were so many well-wishers and celebrants about the troupe could do little more than pack their things and place them as close to the Cloudship as possible. The roustabouts were given strict orders to rouse everyone an hour before dawn so they could board the Cloudship and flee.
They slept in the tents that night, their most important belongings close at hand so they could make a hasty exit.
'I wish I could send a message to Iraj, Safar said as he and Methydia settled down for a few hours sleep.
'What would you say? Methydia asked, wiping away the last vestiges of her makeup with a damp sponge. Spare the city? Or just spare us? She gave him a cynical look. I'd like to know the proper way to appeal to a blood-thirsty barbarian.'
Safar shook his head. Iraj is no barbarian, he said.
'You saw the burned cities, Methydia said, the refugees by the thousands. If that isn't barbaric, I'd like to know what is.'
'The whole world is barbaric as far as I'm concerned, Safar said, growing angry. Iraj is no more a savage than those who confront him. Walaria is supposed to be the civilized center of Esmir. There's nothing but self-serving cutthroats in command there. Look at Sampitay. It's not much better. Queen Arma and her court have their silk trade, their riches. But what of the common folk? They are as poor and put upon as the people of Walaria.'
'Perhaps King Protarus is merely ill-advised, Methydia said coolly. Perhaps he didn't notice all the misery we saw in our journey. Misery caused by his armies.'
Safar was silent for a moment, thinking about what she'd said; trying to sort out his boyhood from his adulthood.
'I haven't seen Iraj for a long time, he finally said, but I don't think he could have changed so much. There was good at the heart of him.'
'Maybe you were that good, Methydia said. Maybe your presence brought out whatever finer feelings he had.'
'Iraj is his own man, Safar insisted. The good I saw was his own. It needed nothing from me. He's also a warrior born and although I disagree with his methods, in the end Iraj is seeking a better place than we have now.
'Iraj didn't make the droughts, the plagues or the horrors like the worm at Kyshaat. He didn't make the old kings and nobles who are as great a plague on Esmir as the ones nature sends us.'
'Still, Methydia said, you're as anxious to get out of the way of his wrath as I am.'
'Armies have no heart, Safar said. And it's Iraj's army we'll see first. Queen Arma was fool enough to defy him. His soldiers will have their orders to make an example of Sampitay. And I don't want us to be in their way.'
'Are you really so unfeeling about the plight of these people, Safar, Methydia asked. Am I seeing a side of you I never noticed before because I was so smitten?'
Safar took her hand. She let him, but her manner was wary. What can I do? he asked, and there was so much pain in his voice her wariness vanished. Tell me and I'll do it at once.'
'Speak to Iraj, she said. Reason with him.'
Safar thought about her request for a time. He felt he was at the edge of a cliff. At the bottom was a world he wanted to escape. A world of petty kings and wizards. A world where girls like Nerisa died for no good reason. And then he thought of all the maids and lads in Sampitay who would suffer Nerisa's fate, or worse, when Iraj's soldiers came. Methydia squeezed his hand. He took strength from it and made his decision.
'We'll go find Iraj in the morning, he said. He grinned, but it was such a sad grin that Methydia ached for him. He shouldn't be hard to find. We'll just look for the largest army.'
Methydia held back tears and embraced him. They made love, clinging to one another as if they were the last people in the world.
Then they fell asleep.
Safar dreamed of Hadin. He danced with the beautiful people, all cares wiped away by the rhythm of their drums.
Then the volcano exploded with such violence that he was hurled far out to sea. He was suddenly without the ability to swim. He pawed madly at the water, trying to stay afloatburning embers raining down on him.
And then a familiar voice urged, Wake up, Master! Wake up!'
Safar's eyes snapped open. Gundara was perched on his chest, sharp little teeth chattering in fear. Safar blinked, thinking he was still dreaming. The last time he'd checked the stone idolwhich he always kept near himit'd seemed like there was barely any magical life inside.
Then he felt the Favorite's weight on his chest and although it was slight, it was very real.
'Where did you come from? Safar asked.
Gundara ignored the question. They're coming, Master! he said, hopping onto the floor. Hurry! Before it's too late!'
Safar heard sounds of fighting outside and came fully awake. He scrabbled for the knife he kept under his pillow and rolled to his feet. Realizing he was naked, he hastily pulled on clothes. The turtle fell out of his tunic pocket and bounced on the earthen floor. Gundara instantly disappeared into it. Then he heard Methydia cry out from the bed and he shouted for her to stay down. He scooped up the turtle and thrust it into his pocket just as the soldiers burst through the tent opening.
Safar didn't give them a chance to get set, but charged directly into them. He dodged a blow and sank his blade into softness. He heard a gasp, tried to pull his knife free, but it stuck. Behind him Methydia screamed a warning and he let the knife go, ripping the sword out of his victim's dying grasp.
He whirled, striking out blindly. He didn't have time or room to turn the blade so only the flat of it struck his attacker. But the force of his blow was so great it sent the soldier reeling back, exposing his belly. Once again Safar felt soft flesh give under his weapon. He didn't wait to see the man fall, but turned again as other soldiers crowded through the tent opening.
He attacked with such fury they fell over each other to escape his wrath. Then he jumped back, heaved up a chest he'd normally have needed help to lift, and hurled it through the opening. Satisfying yelps of pain told him that he'd hit his target.
Methydia was out of the bed now, hastily drawing on a robe.
'This way, he shouted, slashing at the rear of the tent. The cloth parted and they pushed through the opening.
The night was a mad thing of screams and clashing armor and weapons. Fire raged whichever way they turned.
Methydia clutched him, pointing. Safar turned to see her glorious Cloudship going up in flames.
