Nearly 100 days since they'd lost the Capital, forced to evacuate the Government before they were overrun and nearly not making it in time. No one had been able to predict the betrayal of the Eastern province of Qhalo and their militia while practically all of their forces had been sent to quickly squash the uprising in the Northern provinces. "No one" was a loose term, what they really meant when they used that term was: no one of importance.
Donatello was "no one of importance" as far as opinions were concerned. He was not an expert on war, had only read every book in the library on the subject but that wasn't necessary to see that it was foolish to leave Omatria so unprotected. It was arrogant to make that decision and it was blinded with the desire to end the war quickly with as much show of force as was possible.
"Who would have anticipated Qhalo had been planning treason?" They later said around a war table in a tent set up a safe distance from the fallen city, as if Donatello hadn't tried to point out that the Qhalovite Governor had abstained his vote on each and every decision made pertaining the northern Keztosian provinces or when it didn't benefit Moriah's family's domain.
No one remembered how they'd sneered at his occurrence when he suggested how suspicious it had been for the Governor to recuse himself from the city with the excuse of organizing his forces to aide them when in fact they sent none to the front. Jhanna had apologised for Donatello's comment excusing it with his little knowledge about Omatron's traditions and heritage. The Qhalovites were renown for their protection of the Capital and upholding the Law in times of political strife for nearly a millennia, she'd patiently explained it to him in public as if he hadn't ever picked up a book on Omatrian history.
"Loyalties can change." He'd answered with a shrug and had caused a murmur to spread amongst the court and a warning glare to be silent from Jhanna along with a whispered dismissal and order to wait for her in her quarters. He'd had to leave in front of everyone, to his embarrassment and surprise, as if he were a scolded child sent to his room for acting up around the adults.
"We are not human! You will refrain from giving your opinion on these matters." She'd reprimanded later in private.
"You cannot mean to tell me that your kind are above such things as greed or lust for power... or arrogance." He'd answered pointedly but it had been futile.
In the end he'd let it go begrudgingly, if only to preserve their relationship for he knew there was no way to change her mind on the subject and even if he could, the Ministers would not be swayed. He was allowed to be present on the condition he remain silent and he had been from that moment forward, never bringing it up again even when the troops had been spotted marching on the Capital while their whole army was engaged at the front half a world away, or when they'd lifted Moriah's banners when they were less than a day's march from them.
Being right had never tasted so bitter in his mouth, too bitter to utter a word about it specially to Jhanna who carried the weight of being the ruler who'd lost the Capital. She'd been quiet around him ever since, sleeping in the same tent once they'd left the city, but only sharing the space and body heat. He'd respected her decision and not commented on it either.
He still remembered her expression, the way she had paled when they'd given her the news at court and how everyone had glanced at him for a moment as if he were to blame and remained silent, waiting for her orders.
"Evacuate." He'd whispered so only she could hear.
She'd turned her head to him in shock and immediately looked away, shaking it slightly in denial. "We cannot lose Omatria..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at the worried faces of her subjects.
Finding strength within her she drew herself up and stood. "The city is lost." She said with a firm, unwavering voice.
There was an uproar but she raised her hand to silence them. "We are being punished for our arrogance." She announced, using Donatello's words spoken in private. "For believing tradition was enough to hold power over our people and that our kind was above such treacherous actions."
"We must evacuate the city. The Government must survive long enough for our forces to regroup and take our capital back. This is but one city, mortar and stone, but if we let our arrogance keep us here we will not be able to continue the fight. Please make the necessary arrangements, we must leave as soon as we can."
Everyone began talking amongst themselves and some were rushed away with orders, the throne room became the neural centre to organize the evacuation. They had less than 12 hours, or so they thought, to escape during the night somehow. Ideas were tossed around and discarded, arguments broke out as servants carried messages and items. Donatello managed to scoot behind the throne area at the backs of the guards to send his message to his family. He didn't believe they had as much time left as they'd said and their situation was much more dire and his fears were confirmed when the first explosions were heard.
People were frantically trying to escape when they realised what was happening but then the elaborate stained glass dome and windows of the main hall of the Royal Palace imploded during the attack, raining beautifully coloured deadly shards upon the people inside. Everyone seemed to freeze in place, hypnotised by the shimmering kaleidoscope that fell around them unaware of the danger they were in or paralysed by it.
Donatello felt like he was moving through aspic as his adrenaline hit while his mind filled with the dwindling probabilities of survival, the time he had after the larger shards dislodged, calculating by the height, air resistance is negligible, downwards acceleration- not g, 9.8 metres per second is for Earth, it's slightly less for Omatron- He dropped everything to rush around the guards and dragged Jhanna under him to protect her from the worst with his body, the throne sat squarely underneath the dome.
He stared into her confused face, his snout a couple inches from her nose as he tried to communicate with his eyes in those brief seconds how much he loved her, how sorry he was for not saying it more these past few weeks, that everything was going to be okay and he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He grunted when the larger shards struck and slid off his plates, catching them at an angle. The curved, smooth dome of his carapace deflected most of them and he hoped that none would fall at a right angle or on a less protected scute. He watched the geometrical shaped colours dance over Jhanna's features as she lay under him, grunting as a particularly large one caught, he felt it biting into his skin but didn't feel much pain at this point.
It only took a few seconds but felt like an eternity before the debris finished falling on them. He uncurled himself from her, still keeping his body above her but checking her over quickly, mindful of the urgency of their escape. He sighed in relief when she only had a few scrapes and superficial slices on her legs and nothing severe.
Lifting his head he saw the guards on her left and right had been impaled by a thousand glass daggers that shined with the evening's rays coming in through the open roof, pinning their limbs in the twisted positions they had taken to try protect themselves. He took in the bodies of the dead and dying among the glittering mosaic of destruction and caught sight of his own shadow on the wall looking like a rainbow porcupine with the coloured slivers still embedded and jutting out of his shell. He didn't feel it at all.
Donatello didn't bother to remove any as he quickly considered the escape routes available to them, those that were more likely to be compromised and those that may have been overlooked. Some of the Ministers had perished with gruesome wounds but most who were near the walls were still looking around dazedly. There was no time to waste.
He took a step, helping Jhanna up by her trembling hand but with a glance at her open sandals lifted her into his arms ignoring her protests as he crunched through the broken glass covering the floor with the thick soles of his feet. He encountered some of the Palace Guard in the hallway, where he lowered Jhanna as she ordered them to give her a report of the situation within the city.
Donatello took a moment to look around and spotted Cereth, the shy young servant boy who had been assigned to him huddled under a table still inside the throne room hugging something to his chest with his eyes firmly closed. He turned to step back in, trying not to stand in the way of the ministers who crowded around Jhanna when everyone stopped talking at once and gasped, making him pause.
They were all staring at him wide-eyed, or rather, at his shell and he could only imagine what he must look like as he watched them over his shoulder. Jhanna stepped forward and pulled out the longest one, making him grunt as it came free. It was the length of a sword, the tip stained with a bit of blood while the others were like daggers or shorter, some only the length of a finger or even a fingernail. It would be a nightmare to get rid of them, like that time he'd accidentally pressed his thigh against April's cactus plant. She tossed it back into the room with the rest and reached to pull another when he stopped her.
"Later, we've no time. We need to leave the city now." She nodded and turned to continue speaking with the guards who kept glancing back at him, pale faced as they realised how close they had been to losing their Prime Magistrate.
"Cereth." Donatello called out softly and the youth jumped when he put a hand on his midnight blue shoulder carefully pushing aside his white ponytail to take a look at him as he blinked slowly and looked back.
"You're alive." He whispered with a bewildered smile.
"What are you doing here?" Donatello asked, trying to get the boy to move but everything was covered with glass and he winced at the thought of having the boy crawl over it and then walk to the door, he was missing a sandal but he couldn't spot it among the detritus. He hooked a large hand under his thin knees and another around his back and lifted Cereth much the same way as he had done with Jhanna to carry him out to the hallway before setting him down.
"I was bringing you your things." He uncurled and Donatello could now see his old brown duffel with his gear. He'd already spotted his bo staff poking out from under his arm and realised he'd also recovered his laptop that had fallen when the explosions began. It probably wouldn't run with the large dent it was sporting.
"Thank you." He answered gratefully. He'd thought he would have to leave everything behind but even having only this would be a huge help. "Give me a hand." Donatello said as he began pulling off his ripped fine silk robes. Reached this point he couldn't care less about etiquette and protocol and he suspected they'd be fighting their way out.
Cereth helped him pull the robes over his head and the part that covered his shell, pinned into place by glass. Tugging gently on the item of clothing it dislodged the smaller pieces as it was removed but the boy had to pull out the larger ones by hand, wiggling them back and forth slightly before tossing them aside. One of them was firmly embedded between two scutes and Cereth drew back quickly when Don gasped in pain.
"Leave that one in," he grunted out as he recovered, schooling his features when he noticed Jhanna had stopped talking and was glancing worriedly in his direction, "just rip the cloth around it, we'll take care of it later." Donatello instructed.
The boy nodded and did as he was told, then rummaged around the bag to pull out Don's leathers, belt, pads and even his worn mask. He hesitated a moment before tying it around his head. He thought he'd feel strange and naked after spending so much time in fine clothing and there was a bit of that... but he hadn't felt so at home in a very long time. Reaching back to slide his bo staff in place and with fear and danger in the backdrop he felt himself again, as if this were just another crazy mission with his brothers, overcoming impossible odds every week. It filled him with a confidence and hope he hadn't felt in a while.
He walked up to Jhanna again and she did a double take when she got sight of him but didn't mention his state of undress.
"We are trapped!" One of the surviving ministers exclaimed. She'd been able to get word from the outside. "The City Guard is keeping the attackers busy for now but there's no way to escape unnoticed. The moment we set foot outside will be our last. There's no way out."
"Of course there is!" Donatello spoke up, this was no time to play silent and submissive. He figured they'd forgive his intrusion if they lived. "You have a wonderful underground sewer system. I've seen maps of it, there's a large collecting tunnel that we can access from the dungeons and they would take us well out of the city all the way to the Omatria River. If we left now we could probably reach it by the time darkness falls and then make it to the forest at the base of the Ch'lall Mountains before sunrise."
They stared at him as if he had sprouted an extra head. "How dare you!" Lady Beqenthal, Minister of Coin and one of the older, more traditionalist councillors exclaimed in outrage, her extravagant jewellery clinking together like a wind-chime as she shook with rage. "The sewers?! Walk among the filth like vermin?! Perhaps such things seem normal to one such as you but we-"
"Will do what is necessary to ensure this government survives." Jhanna cut off with her stern and powerful voice, silencing the shrill complaints of the older woman. She turned to Donatello and acknowledged him, validating his opinion, something that had never happened in public where he was but a decorative shadow at her side. "I have heard the tunnels are a maze, built over and through earlier ruins, how can we hope to navigate them without a guide?"
"I am counting on our enemies to think that way, to feel as outraged by the suggestion and therefore dismiss it as a possibility. Luckily for us I've been able to examine the plans and mapped out several routes we could use in case one of the paths is unusable. We'll need someone to let the head of the city guard know what our plans are so they can give us enough of a head start before calling retreat and meeting up with us somewhere safe."
"It shall be done." Jhanna nodded to one of the guards who bowed and rushed away with her orders. "Lead the way Donatello, we are leaving this instant. Take only what you can carry and have at hand right now. Leave everything else behind."
His chest filled with love for her and a fierce determination to keep all these people alive with every ounce of strength he had. Thankfully, his yearning for his family the past months had made him return to a schedule similar to the one he kept with his brothers when they were still fighting against the Foot, rising early to train and even convincing some of the lower ranked, lower classed guards or recruits to spar with him on occasion when he practised at the facilities provided to them. It helped to structure his mostly empty days now that he didn't really have many responsibilities or freedom while at the same time making him feel closer to his family.
Jhanna relayed the situation report to him in a low voice as they walked through the tunnels, following his lead. The initial forces, the large and rare mechas provided by the wealthy Keztosian's had arrived that same evening, taking down most of the city guard quickly, attacking the bay where they kept their own mechas that had been left behind because they were obsolete models not fit for the front. They were unable to deploy but half a dozen that had been saved from the first wave of destruction kept in a separate building for maintenance, a couple of them engaging in combat with an arm missing or part of the shielding removed.
They reached the end of the sewers but had to wait until sundown when they emerged from the tunnels wading through the shallow murky waters of the river. As they entered the cover of the forest Donatello's strength finally gave out and he collapsed to his knees and then tipped forward, not even lifting his arms to stop his fall. Only Jhanna's quick reflexes saved him from a mouthful of dirt, keeping him up with a firm hold on his shoulders.
His body felt like lead and at the same time light as a feather as a numbness fell over him. "Blood loss." He mumbled into Jhanna's warm shoulder exhaling softly with a dazed smile. He'd done it, he'd gotten them out safe and sound and now, enveloped by her scent and warmth he was almost ready to rest.
"Y-you need to head to the mountains." He continued, wanting to give her as much help as he could with the breath he still had. "The mountain pass, a few mechas can hold them off and you can find refuge in the caverns."
"You are dreaming, Donatello, if you think I will leave you behind or let you die." Jhanna answered him. "Save your strength, my love. You have done well." She turned her back to him, keeping him upright on his knees and his arms over her shoulders as she leaned forward, taking his weight and lifting him with her as she stood, slipping her arms under his thighs to hold him to her. She could feel the slick wetness on the back of his left thigh. Blood, probably from the glass still protruding from his shell. No one had noticed in the darkness of the sewers as his life trickled down his back, he hadn't complained nor had it hindered their escape.
She had chosen her consort well. Never had she been so filled with pride as that moment when she saw how much he was willing to give her, every drop of his blood, to keep her and her kingdom safe. "I will not let you go yet, my love. I still need you." She whispered as the group started moving again.
Wordlessly, a low ranking guard she did not know fell into step beside her, hooking an arm under his thighs as well to help keep him on her back. Cereth scurried forward and tied Donatello's wrists carefully together with a piece of cloth to keep his arms from slipping off her shoulders. He hurried behind her as she walked to hold cloth around the glass dagger, trying to plug the seeping wound as best as he could while they kept moving.