This is a new story I've come up with, and I'd be interested to know what people think of it. Whether it's too historical or simply uninteresting etc. Also if people feel that the historical points here require explanation either for clarity or interest's sake. Constructive criticism would be appreciated.

People whispered in the streets. An overtone of unease surrounded the whole city, and folk spoke of him in hushed murmurs, as though even the mention of his name would bring him down upon their heads, in all his barbarian fury. Few could remember a time when the name of one man could stir such fear in an entire population.

Seishiro Barca.

Even now he swept through Hispania, along with his brothers Hasdrubal and Mago, destroying everything in his path, making his way ever closer to the Fatherland, and the Mother City herself. Tales of disaster spread swiftly; his victories at Trebia and Trasimene, how, despite being vastly outnumbered he had turned the battle of Cannae into a disastrous rout; and most recently how he had separated the armies in Hispania, and destroyed them both, along with the two Consuls. It was a catastrophe. The city was left temporarily without leadership, until new Consuls were chosen, and new generals must be selected to return to Hispania. If Seishiro could not be stopped there, then what hope for the Fatherland?

No one wanted to go. It was suicidal - no one had been able to stop this demon of combat. No one volunteered... except for one man. Burning with the fresh grief of losing both father and uncle, hungrily eager for revenge and disregarding of his own safety, young in body and years yet already proven in valor and courage, he had witnessed every tragedy except his beloved father's death, and he begged the Senate to let him lead the army in order to gain revenge for his family. His red eyes glowed with such fire that every man who saw them was struck silent, overawed by something they could not understand, and held by it until they could summon the presence of mind to look away. He was only 24 years of age, as yet untried as a general, even though he had proven his bravery ten times over in warfare. But bravery counts for little against such a tactician as Seishiro Barca, and the Senate couldn't afford to lose another battle like Cannae. There was much discussion, and the Senate spoke for a long time behind closed doors. But in the end they let him go. There was no one else.

Two years later, Kurogane sat on a stool, wearing light clothes more suited to the Hispanic climate than the heavy toga, with his normally short hair starting to creep down his neck, and a letter in his hand. Before him was a small writing desk, on which was laid out several maps that were covered with various markings, crossed and recrossed. Outside of the tent various noises filled the air: the metal scraping of men sharpening their swords, pikes and arrows, the occasional whinny of a horse, the faint clatter of dishes from the mess tent; all the sounds, in fact, of an army camp. The present site was not as strategic as he would have liked; while it was close to water and near enough to the forest to allow the building of the customary palisade and ditch, they were down in a valley with ravines on either side of them - not a good place to become trapped. However it was secure enough to protect the forces from any wandering enemy troops, while the main barbarian army at the top of the plateau in front of them. It was well defended and would prove formidable in assaulting, but that was an issue for tomorrow. For tonight, the men could enjoy some peace and safety; in the morning, they would engage in their first all out battle. No more skirmishes, sieges or avoidance tactics - this would be the real thing.

Inside the general's tent, Kurogane sat reading his letter. He had already read it several times, but it felt particularly important to read it tonight, especially if it would be the last thing of home he would ever see. Not that he was planning on dying tomorrow, but you never knew- especially not with Seishiro Barca. At least he wouldn't actually be fighting Seishiro - it would be one of his three generals, Hasdrubal Barco, who'd be leading the army Kurogane would be engaging. At least that's what he hoped. As long as Hasdrubal could be taken out before the other two generals, Kyle and Mago, arrived, then Kurogane could prevent his smaller army from being overwhelmed. But if the battle dragged out... Kurogane shook his head. There was no use in dwelling on it now. It would be decided in the morning. He returned to the letter in his hands. It was from his adopted daughter Sakura, whom he had left with his fiancee, Soma, back in the city.

Dear Kurogane,

I am so glad to hear that you are still alive and well. People say the horridest things here. I heard at the forum, that there were bets placed as to how long you would live for. But your success in capturing Carthago Novo from the barbarians has silenced many of those wagging tongues.

Soma is well, and sends her regards. I hope your tribunes are performing to your high standards, and that you have not had to replace any... At this point Kurogane smiled, always amused by Sakura's subtle attempt to ask after her sweetheart, the young Syaoran. Some times he wondered if he had done the right thing when he had allowed them to become acquainted, but they were so perfect together it seemed a crime to separate them. Unfortunately, Sakura's high lineage meant that Syaoran would have to prove himself in the eyes of the Senate before he could even hope to ask for her hand. Since his birth was plebian, he would have to distinguish himself in war, and probably get himself elected as an aedile before that would happen. But he was a brave kid, and the coming battle would give him plenty of opportunity. After (providing there was an after), Kurogane had every intention of supporting him in the election for quaestor. The boy was honest, and would probably gain a lot of respect in such a position.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by someone entering through the tent flap. The fact that he had entered without announcing himself meant it could only be one person, and Kurogane turned to face his childhood friend and laticlavian tribune, Toya Laelius.

"What do you want?"

Toya grinned at him, not at all intimidated. "What are you doing stuffed away in here? You should be out drinking with the men!"

Kurogane frowned. "I need to go over these maps again. The battle is tomorrow. If this goes wrong..."

"But it's not going to go wrong. Besides, you've been staring at those bloody maps for a week, they're not going to tell you anything new." Perceiving that his friend was still not convinced, Toya added, "Tomorrow is going to be about courage. The only way you can give that to your men is to go out tonight and mingle with them, show them that you're one of them and that you're going to be fighting right along side them."

The young general snorted. "Courage is something you find in yourself, not something that's given to you by other people."

"I think you'll find it's a little of both. Come on, Kurogane. Your soldiers admire you so much - you were the only one brave enough to volunteer for this post. Anyway, it can't hurt."

Grudgingly, Kurogane allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and out of his tent and into the mess hall, where he was greeted by cheers and applause from his men. A seat was instantly produced, and no sooner had he sat down than a flagon of ale was placed in front of him. It was bitter to the taste, but he swallowed it down without even a shudder.

"A toast!" Someone cried; the shout was immediately taken up by the whole room. "A toast, to our good general!"

Kurogane raised his hand and instant silence fell. "A toast," he said, and it rang through the gathered soldiers, "A toast to Victory!"

The next day dawned bright and clear, and the early morning trumpet calls drowned the singing birds with their loud, strident notes splitting the still air and calling the troops to battle. Kurogane assembled his men and issued his orders. The light infantry were to attack the centre of the plateau, on the first step where their enemy counterparts were positioned. Meanwhile the heavy infantry would take advantage of the distraction to scale the steep ravines on either side of the enemy camp, with Syaoran and two other tribunes leading the left side, and Kurogane himself on the right. In the midst of this, Toya would lead the cavalry around behind the enemy, and surprise them in the midst of battle. Every element of this battle would depend upon surprise, and being able to strike when the enemy least expected it. And so it began.

Kurogane kept the heavy infantry hidden inside the camp until the light infantry had joined battle before he lead them out, sticking to the trees to provide themselves with maximum cover. By the time they reached the edge of the plateau, there was already heavy fighting going on. The first wave of soldiers had made their way up the incline to engage in hand to hand combat the barbarians who had been firing down on them with spears and javelins. As far as Kurogane could tell, his side hadn't taken any serious losses.

The ravine was heavy going, as it was steep and difficult to get a foothold on the treacherous ground, while the heavy armour weighted them down and more than once a soldier lost his footing and slipped back down the hill only to be caught by one or more of his comrades. As they approached the top and the ground started to level out a little, the alarm was sounded above them and soldiers began to appear on the rim of the plateau, armed with throwing weapons. Kurogane dug his toes in and put on a burst of speed, and called to his men to follow he burst over the edge of the plateau and was on the enemy before they even knew he was there. In such close quarters, the lightly armed and armoured Iberians had little defense against Kurogane, and as his heavy infantry gained the top of the plateau they began to push the enemy backwards, cutting through the ill-prepared ranks with relative ease. Over the din of battle, they heard shouts of surprise from the left, and Kurogane could assume that Syaoran and his group had also gained the firm ground of the plateau.

All was going well, but then the blades became harder, the opponents became stronger, and the scared Iberians were replaced by fierce Libyans, and all at once the battle got harder. Kurogane narrowly dodged a swipe that would have severed his arm and lashed out with his sword. It bit into the leg of his opponent who stumbled back, giving him some space to catch his breath and glance around. To his right one of his own men was thrown to the ground, an enemy soldier about to impale him. Kurogane snatched up a broken spear and hurled it, piercing the man's heart and killing him instantly. His comrade struggled back to his feet and sent him a shout of thanks, but to the left another of his men fell to the ground, blood soaking from the open wound in his stomach. More enemy came at them; Kurogane gritted his teeth and braced to receive them. His sword was covered in blood, his helmet spotted with flying gore and his armour drenched in a combination of sweat and blood. Even though he had not yet taken a serious blow, the hard climb up the ravine had sapped his strength and he wondered how many more soldiers there could possibly be. He wondered where Toya was, and if he would succeed in bringing the cavalry around the enemy flank. A deep rumble to his left distracted him, and an opponent managed to land a glancing blow on his arm. Although it did not puncture the armour, it was enough to stagger him, and he reeled back, trying to raise his sword in time to ward off the next blow. It was close, but he deflected it and swiftly dispatched the man to the next life. He looked for his next enemy, but the lines had thinned and they seemed to be making way for something else. Turning his head, he saw what it was that had distracted him before. A massive creature was thundering its way towards his troops, taller than two houses and looking heavier than four, with spiked armoured plates on its sides and soldiers on its back armed with throwing weapons. As it came it trumpeted a most unearthly sound - enough to strike terror into the hearts of any man foolish enough to get in its way. Kurogane could not help pausing for an instant to admire the wonder of such a creature. The magnificant Elephantus. They had expected it, of course, had heard tales, even glimpsed them during skirmishes and raids, but this was the first time they had come face to face with one on the battlefield. It was truly an awesome sight.

The creature would, however, decimate his lines if his soldiers did not do what they had been told to do to combat it (and looking at it now he wouldn't really blame them either if they forgot everything and just turned to run). Kurogane knew he had to move fast. He could see more of the creatures emerging further along the plateau, having descended from the higher part where they had been camped. Fortunately Kurogane and his men had had time to gain some flat territory on which to maneuver before Hasdrubal had managed to get them into combat. Kurogane guessed that meant his plan of surprise attack had at least partially succeeded. Sprinting towards his soldiers, he shouted at the top of his voice:

"Break ranks! Assume file formation! Get out of its way!"

The soldiers nearest to him caught his cries and snapped themselves out of their stunned demeanor. Kurogane could see the call being carried up the line as more and more soldiers cleared the path for the huge beast, moving sideways instead of backwards and off the face of the plateau. They seized broken and discarded javelins and spears from the ground, hurling them into the creatures legs and making it bellow with pain and rage.

And then from the left flank came the enemy heavy infantry, fleeing as Toya led the cavalry in a triumphant charge. Trumpets blasted as they turned to charge the elephants, which spooked in alarm at the sudden noise and began to charge back into their own lines. Seeing their comrades in full flight, the rest of the enemy infantry suddenly wavered and many also turned to flee, while those who tried to fight were easily cut down by the reinvigorated soldiers who started to charge along with their cavalry. Kurogane and his forces pursued them to the next incline, where their enemy began to recoup a little as they climbed back up to their base camp. But they drove on forwards and the barbarians continued to retreat. When Kurogane reached the enemy base camp, he found many of his troops already looting the place, while Hasdrubal's army retreated in the distance, in a much more orderly fashion now that the riders had gotten their elephants under control. As he caught his breath, Toya galloped up to him.

"Shall we pursue them?" He asked, holding his reins with a firm hand as his horse pranced and shifted restlessly. Kurogane looked at the fading line of enemy troops, then at his own troops busy plundering anything they could find. He did some rapid calculations in his head and came to a conclusion.

"No. Regroup your cavalry, and count your losses. We'll pitch camp here."

"But Ku.. sir!" he cried in dismay, "We can't just let them get away! They'll head up into the mountains and carry on into Italia!"

"We can't afford to leave ourselves open to attack by Kyle and Mago. If we get caught in between all three armies, we won't stand a chance."

Toya looked for a moment as if he would protest further, but then he turned his horse sharply to the left and booted it away. After he had gone, Kurogane just stood still for a moment, taking in what had just happened. He, Kurogane, the fresh upstart whom the Senate had been forced to select, had driven Hasdrubal, an experienced general with superior forces, from a strong, strategic position. He, whom everyone in the city had thought would be crushed within minutes of engaging the unstoppable barbarian forces, had managed to achieve victory after all. True, Hasdrubal had escaped with his elephants and baggage train intact, but this was the first defeat the enemy had suffered in some time, and hopefully it would damage their confidence, while inspiring his own troops.

Then he looked around, and the memory of what had actually happened came back to him. There were corpses everywhere, whole and dismembered, bloody and disfigured, scattering the ground and staining it red. Broken weapons lay discarded in all directions, and the wounded cried feebly for help as they struggled to stay alive. Kurogane took a deep breath, and knew what his first task must be, now that the fighting was over. He strode over to the nearest group of soldiers, who were standing around looking more than a little dazed.

"Oi you! Who has the most rank here?" He demanded.

They stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then recognition came and they snapped to attention. A young man he vaguely recognised stepped forward. "Me sir. Centurion Rulius sir."

"Right. I want you to start tending to the wounded. Get them out of this bloodbath and move them into the camp so the healers can start working on them."

"Yes sir." The young centurion looked a little uncertain. Kurogane had a feeling he was one of the city kids who joined the army hoping for glory, and bought their rank rather than earned it. Though he supposed he couldn't really talk. "All the way back to the camp, sir?"

"No. We're setting up a new camp where the enemy had theirs. Move the wounded there."

"Yes sir." The soldiers looked relieved that they didn't have to keep climbing up and down the plateau, and slowly began to look around for any nearby wounded. Kurogane was ready to yell at them to get moving already, but he was pleased to see Rulius take control, splitting them up into groups and sending them off in different directions. Kurogane continued to make his way through the rest of his troops, giving out his orders. Some he directed to help with the wounded, others to start making a pile of the dead bodies so they could be burnt with honour. It was a little difficult to organise those solders who were looting the enemy camp, but Kurogane was taking no nonsense from them. Everything edible was to be set aside for the cooks, and everything valuable was piled up to be shared out among those who had earned it. Once he found the cavalry again, he ordered them to go back down to their old camp, and start the transfer of everything up the plateau. Since everything was already packed up, it wouldn't take that long, but the most important thing was for the healers to get to work as soon as possible.

Despite his soldiers' weariness, Kurogane commanded them to build a palisade around the camp, spurring them on by taking an axe himself and chopping away with them. They responded by starting a competition to see who could work the fastest, and the good humour and euphoria that came from their victory carried them through. By the time night fell, the army was solidly entrenched, most of the wounded had been patched up (including enemy wounded whom Kurogane had insisted on taking as prisoners of war - he hated executing defenseless men) and dinner was being cooked. Everyone was prepared to spend the entire night drinking to celebrate, and Kurogane had given them several barrels of ale from the stores. Over the next few days they would resupply, repair weapons and armour, and the booty would be shared out as Kurogane received reports from all his officers as to any daring feats of bravery. And finally a report would have to be sent to the Senate. It would be a lot of writing and a lot of bother, but Kurogane wasn't too concerned about it yet. For tonight, he was going to celebrate.

Fai hated Africa. It was hot, dry, windy, and the sand. Oh yes, the sand. Fai could have written a book on all the different ways it found to annoy you. It got into your clothes, your food, your bed, your hair, your ears and your eyes. It blew up in massive sandstorms and blocked out all light, screeching like a mad demon and claiming the lives of all it touched. It absorbed the scorching African sun, burning the soles of your feet and shimmering into mirages that could get you into big trouble if you didn't know for certain that no, there is no watering hole here, diving into that sparkling blue pond will only get you back into that bloody sand. Fai hated the sand.

This was mainly why he stayed indoors all day, remaining in the shady comfort of the palace. Not to mention if he had gone outside during those hours when the sun burnt down from its throne in the heavens, his delicate pale skin would have fried in seconds. That was another thing Fai hated. His skin. He often thought that his skin was to blame for many of his misfortunes. If it wasn't so pale, so delicate, so unusual and almost exotic, then he wouldn't be in this mess. Not that things hadn't been bad before the slave traders had got their hands on him, but at least he hadn't been in Africa. Africa, of all places. Now he had this... this mark, on his shoulder. He rubbed it self consciously, shivering at the remembered pain of the brand carving itself into his flesh. He never really understood why Ashura had wanted the brand on his shoulder - most slaves were marked on the hand, arm or face, so they could be easily identified, especially if they tried to run away. Much as he loved Ashura, he found it hard to believe the king had wanted to spare him pain, or make it easier for him to escape. Ashura was gentle but not kind. No, never kind. Most likely it was just so it didn't mar his pretty features. Ashura always liked to look at him.

Fai was interrupted from his thoughts by one of the palace guards, an older man with the dark skin and black eyes common to his tribe, the Masaesyli. Fai couldn't recall his name.

"His majesty, King Syphax, demands your presence, slave."

"Thank you." He wondered what Ashura wanted this time. Surely it was too early as yet for... Well... He preferred not to think of it. He would obey, of course, but all things going well, this would be the last time.

Fai entered the royal chamber with the same feeling he always did; a sinking terror mixed with hope, wondering which mood Ashura happened to be in. He kept his eyes on the ground as he knelt before the king and bent his head to the floor, only daring to glimpse the king's face as he raised his head.

"Rise." Ashura's voice gave little away, but he smiled gently at Fai. "Come forward."

Fai stepped slowly up to the throne, and kneeled at the king's feet. Ashura placed his hand on his blond hair, and Fai bent his head in submission.

"It has come to my attention that you have neglecting your Graecian studies," the king began, a disapproving note creeping into his voice. "I hope I do not have to remind you of the value of such pursuits, and your own fortune in being able to pursue them, again."

Biting his lip, Fai swallowed and forced down the urge to protest. Only a few days ago Ashura had demanded that he put all his energy into studying the Persian arts. "Forgive me, Majesty."

"Very well." Ashura seemed satisfied with this. "There are new books in the library that were brought back from the raids on Massylia, including some written by Philon of Larissa. You will want to read them immediately."

"Of course, Majesty. You are too kind."

Fai knew he'd said the wrong thing instantly, and Ashura frowned at him. "No, Fai. Not kind. Kindness is a fatal flaw, something I have tried to make you understand time and time again. Do I need to teach you this lesson again?"

He bowed his head again, and tried to keep a tremor from his voice as he replied. "No, your Majesty. Forgive me, I meant no disrespect."

Ashura was silent for a moment before waving his hand dismissingly.

"You are excused."

Fai left the chamber as fast as he could, unable to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth that always came from disappointing Ashura. No matter how demanding the king might be, he had still taken him away from the slave traders and allowed him the freedom of the palace, even though he was still technically a slave. He had access to Ashura's massive library, and the philosophers, logicians and historians who taught the children of Ashura's nobility. It was a generosity he would probably never be able to repay, and that made what he was about to do all the more painful. But Fai owed a deeper debt even than this, and the choice was not his to make.

Fai spent what was left of the day in the library, paging through the new books, aware that Ashura had more than likely commanded one or more of the guards to keep an eye on him and make sure he was doing what he'd been told. When the sun faded behind the horizon, he replaced the tomes on their shelves and retired to his own chamber. The entire palace should be at dinner about now, except for a small contingent of guards. He certainly saw no one on the way to his room. When he got there, he found Tomoyo waiting for him. She had been sitting demurely on his bed, but as soon as he pulled the curtain across the doorway she was on her feet, staring at him with anxious eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Her nervousness was evident in her voice. "If we.. if we do this... well.. there's no turning back... If we get caught, he'll have us killed."

"I know." Fai was quietly determined as he gathered two small bags from behind his bed. "We won't get another opportunity like this again. It's now or never."

He turned to face her. "The question is, are you sure? You could stay here. No one would ever know you helped me - you wouldn't be blamed."

She hesitated and drew in a long, slow breath, her eyes flickering over the floor, the bed, her feet, before she looked up at him again. This time her face was determined. "No. If you're going, I'm coming too. Besides, I want to get out of here just as much as you do."

Fai smiled at her, relieved. He hadn't wanted to leave her behind. "Good. Do you have your things? And the..."

"Yes. It's all here." Now business-like, Tomoyo produced three bundles. Two she set aside, but the third she emptied on the bed. It was an assortment of clothing, and she selected one and held it up for him to inspect. It was a nobleman's robe, styled in the Greek fashion, intricately embroidered on both sides.

Fai grinned appreciatively. "Wow Tomoyo! This is incredible! How long did it take to make these?"

"A while. You wouldn't believe how hard it was to get my hands on all the materials I needed." She picked up some more of her handiwork and tossed it at him. "Now go and get changed. We haven't got all night."

"Well if you'd like to use the screen, my lady." He gestured smilingly towards the wooden object. She tossed her head but went anyway. Fai swiftly dressed himself in the new outfit. It felt strangely nostalgic to be wearing a nobleman's clothes again, something he found rather strange as it hadn't been something he'd missed during his time as a slave. As soon as he'd finished, Tomoyo whirled out from behind the screen, looking every inch the Graecian lady. "Are you ready?" she asked him.

"As I'll ever be. You look nice." he added. "Just make sure that your sleeves cover your slave mark. If anyone sees it, we're done for."

"I know, I know." She tugged the sleeves down self-consciously. "I thought I'd made them extra long, but I didn't get a chance to try it on. Here." She handed him a long black cloak. "Don't take it off until we're out of the palace. Where are we meeting this Sorata guy again?"

"Outside the front gate."

"And how are we getting there?" She demanded.

"We're going to walk out the gate. He'll think we're too suspicious otherwise. We have to look authentic."

"But the guards will recognise us!" Tomoyo was starting to panic. "And what if we run into the real Lord and Lady Phylamon? We'll never be able to pull this off."

"They're at Ashura's banquet, remember? And there's no way the guards will recognise us dressed like this. Unless you happen to know any of them personally...?"

"Well no, but... You look so distinctive! No one has blond hair around here! And your skin is so pale!"

"Except Lord Phylamon." He reminded her. "Blonds are common in Greece. As for my skin... I brought some ash to darken it, and hopefully it'll be dark enough that they won't notice." As he spoke he drew a bottle from his discarded clothes and began to apply the contents to his face, neck and arms. Tomoyo watched anxiously and when he had finished even she had to admit that he didn't look so distinctive anymore. "But I still think this is suicidal."

"But hopefully it'll work. And it's the only opportunity we're going to get."

They hurried silently through the halls, staying out of the light of the flickering torches that occasionally dotted walls. The palace seemed deserted, but they could hear shouts of revelry coming from both the ballroom and the guard house, and assumed that the inner palace guards were having their own banquet. They reached the courtyard without incident, and huddled together in the doorway, steeling themselves for their next move.

Fai took of the hood of his cloak and unfastened it so it fell behind him, motioning for Tomoyo to do this same. He drew a deep breath, and presented his arm to her. "This is it. Shall we, my lady?"

She giggled nervously and took his arm. "Certainly, my lord."

They made their way sedately across the courtyard, forcing themselves to move at a gentle pace. Fai's stomach was clenching itself into knots, and Tomoyo's hand was trembling on his arm. Every step they took he expected to hear someone calling their names, shouting for them to stop, right there!

He was almost surprised when they reached the gate, and the guard, who had been lounging on some upturned barrels, stood up and came to meet them.

"My lord and lady." The guard's tone was not quite respectful. Fai reflected that Ashura's palace had never been too fond of foreigners, despite their king's love of all kinds of cultures. "Where would you be wandering to this time of night?"

"We are going to meet the caravan, of course." Fai replied calmly. "So if you'd kindly open the gates, we'll be on our way."

"Caravans don't travel at this time of night." The guard wasn't buying it. "Why aren't you at the banquet?"

"We asked the caravan to wait, since it was important that we catch the ferry at Tunes in a few days time, and we needed to complete our business here. Not that it's any of your concern," Fai was suddenly cold. "but to set your mind at rest, I will ask King Ashura to come down here and confirm your orders." He turned and made to walk away, but the guard hastily called him back.

"No, no, my lord, no need for that. Forgive my impudence. I'll open the gate immediately. King Syphax doesn't need to know about this." The man was half pleading, and Fai nodded his head, satisfied, and the guard breathed a sigh of relief. He hurried to open the gate for them, terrified, as Fai had known he would be, by the thought of getting on Ashura's bad side. The gate swung open and Fai strode confidently through it, gently pulling a dazed Tomoyo who had remained perfectly silent and now responded weakly and stumbled along with him. The guard bowed to them as they passed, and wished them a happy journey before springing to close the gate behind them. Fai breathed out a heavy sigh as it swung closed and forced himself not to start leaping and dancing and shouting at the top of his voice. He could see the caravan a short way off. They had set up a small fire, but were obviously waiting to get underway since the all camels were loaded with various goods and bundles.

It was one of the usual trade caravans, but it was being run by a new leader; a newcomer in the nomadic trade leader ranks, who had never met Fai or Tomoyo, unlike the rest of caravan leaders. It had been to much of an opportunity to pass up: this, plus the visitors, Lord and Lady Phylamon, bearing a passable resemblance to the two of them, made for a perfect opportunity to escape from Ashura's clutches. He'd had to break into Ashura's treasury to get the money to pay the caravan and the ferry out of Africa, but so far the theft had gone unnoticed, and probably would until their absence was discovered. And hopefully by that time they would be far away.

They had stood still too long, Fai realised, as he saw a man detach himself from the caravan group and come towards them, his figure fading into the darkness of the desert as he left the firelight. Fai could still make out his silhouette as his eyes adjusted to the thin moonlight, and he walked towards him, almost dragging Tomoyo after him. When they came close enough he waved to them and turned back again, beckoning them to follow him. As they came into the light of the fire Fai could see the man had an open, friendly face and a welcoming grin.

"You must be Lord and Lady Phylamon, I guess?"

Fai nodded. "Yes. Are you Sorata?"

"That's me, alright. Are you ready to leave now? I don't like traveling too late at night, but we really should make some distance tonight."

"We are very ready to leave." Fai gave the man a tired smile. "I apologise for causing so much trouble. It's very kind of you to wait for us."

Sorata waved him off. "Oh, no trouble, no trouble at all! Now, are you and your lady accustomed to riding camel-back? We've got a couple of quiet ones for you, they won't give you any grief. Very mild mannered."

"Thank you." Fai replied gratefully. "We have both ridden a few times, but I fear neither of us are expert camel riders."

Sorata chuckled. "Well don't you worry. I'll be looking out for you, so just give me a wave if you have any problems. Now, let's get you mounted up. Is that all the baggage you have?"

He gestured to the four small bags the pair were carrying. Fai nodded, wondering if he should have bought more. Not that he had any more to bring. "We like to travel light."

"A good policy." Sorata said approvingly. "I wish more nobles took the same approach." He picked up the bags and led them over to two camels picketed on the edge of the group. He fasted the bags to the baggage straps and between them he and Fai lifted Tomoyo into the saddle. She picked up the reins carefully.

"Alright there, little lady?" Sorata asked her cheerfully.

She blinked at him for a moment, before smiling sweetly. "Yes, thank you sir."

He grinned back at her and then turned to Fai. "Need any help, my lord?" Fai shook his head and Sorata nodded and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "I'll wake the others up then, and we'll be underway." He strode over to the fire and started calling for the men seated around its warmth to get to their feet and get moving. They did so a little grudgingly, but seemed cheerful nonetheless as they bustled around.

Fai put his hand on Tomoyo's arm. "Are you alright?"

She smiled down at him, a little shaken but a glimmer of triumph in her eyes. "We did it, Fai! I can't believe it. But you told that guard where we're going - won't Ashura just sent some horsemen to get us back?"

"I told him we were going to Tunes." Fai said, grinning mischievously. "But this caravan is going to Tenga. So Ashura can send as many troops to Tunes as he pleases - he won't find us. We'll cross the strait of Mons Calpe into Hispania, and from there - who knows! Italia, Greece - even Persia. We could go anywhere. We're free, Tomoyo, free!"

Tomoyo was grinning like a maniac, but she had enough presence of mind to tell him to keep his voice down. "You'll get us caught before we're 100 yards away from the palace, you idiot." Fai just laughed and mounted his camel. Around them the rest of the caravan was starting to move, and they moved along with it, among some 30 other camels, although most did not have riders. There were also about 20 men including Sorata, some of whom led strings of camels and others, obviously guards, walked on the edges of the caravan. As they made their way into the silent desert, Fai took one last look over his shoulder at the palace behind them, before turning around and urging his camel forwards with a little more force than necessary. He did not look back again.

Thanks for reading :)