Chapter Thirteen

Goodbye

Larisden held the sword in his uninjured hand as he set off after Mirana and her handmaiden. He hadn't expected Marci to dislocate his fingers like that. He certainly hadn't expected her to kick her way through the barred doors. Maybe there was some truth to the rumours about her after all.

'Split up!' Larisden barked. 'Find them and stop them. Kill them if you must.'

The assorted mercenaries and bribed Sun Guard did as he ordered. The rest were under orders to secure the palace. Shabarra was already on his way down to see Kashurra, escorted by Callardis and a group of Sun Guard.

Where would Marci take Mirana? The two of them knew the palace much better than he did. He was a stranger here, Mirana had lived here her whole life, and Marci had been here for eight years.

They would quickly realise that they could not escape. That meant that they would hide.

But where?

"I can't believe she had to waste time teaching her pet slum-rat to read." Something Shabarra had said came to him unbidden, and he wondered if that might answer the question. Who would think to look for them in the library?

Larisden gripped his sword tightly and set off, hoping to kill the slum-rat himself.


Kashurra stood as Callardis and Shabarra entered his chambers, both looking smug and both covered in blood.

Kashurra's stomach dropped, and his heart began to pound. No! No, this could not be happening! All of his plans, everything he had done… had it all been for naught?

He gritted his teeth. If the worst had come to pass, then he would at least have vengeance. He had the power to achieve it. It would mean his death, even he could not hope to overcome all of Shabarra's allies.

But if his fears were proven true, it would not matter. Perhaps it would be better.

'What have you done?' Kashurra demanded.

'What was necessary, Viceroy.' Shabarra answered, placing the Emperor's still-bloody circlet on his head. 'You saw for yourself how weak the Emperor was. His daughter is even weaker. With her on the Solar Throne, the Imperium would fall. Perhaps it would fall to anarchy. Perhaps it would be conquered.

But I will be strong. The Imperium will not fall under my rule.'

'You killed the Emperor? You have committed regicide!'

'You are speaking to the Emperor.' Callardis growled. 'You will address him properly or not at all.'

Kashurra glowered at him. 'And Marci and Mirana? What of them?'

'You always had a soft spot for them, didn't you?' Shabarra murmured. 'But they too must die for the good of the Imperium.'

Kashurra almost lashed out. But then he gleaned his answer from Shabarra's response. Hope rose in his heart.

They were still alive. They had somehow escaped whatever trap Shabarra had arranged.

Few knew the palace as well as they did. How often had he come across the two of them somewhere unexpected? They must have explored every inch of the palace in their time together, even places neglected and forgotten by most.

And Marci knew of the secret tunnel in the library. With the Emperor dead, only she, Mirana and Kashurra knew of it now, and Kashurra was not about to reveal this to Shabarra, not even if they tortured him.

They could not do anything worse to him than what his former kin had done, or worse even than what he had done to himself.

'I am here to offer you a choice, Viceroy Kashurra.' Shabarra approached an old cabinet, opened it, and found a bottle of brandy inside. Kashurra rarely made use of it, only drinking on occasion for the sake of appearances. 'You have proven yourself to be a loyal servant of the Imperium. You have managed to keep order even with a weak, useless man upon the throne.'

Kashurra worked hard to keep his emotions in check. The Emperor had been a good man, and he had been Shabarra's brother. How could the man be so glad to have killed him?

'You may continue to serve the Imperium,' Shabarra approached, carrying two glasses of brandy. He held one out to Kashurra. 'You may choose to serve me. Give me your loyalty, or join the dead tonight.'

Callardis tensed, ready to swing his labrys. Kashurra was not afraid of him.

It was still so very tempting to crush Shabarra into a bloody pulp.

But he had to think carefully. Logic had to come before emotion.

If Kashurra died now, his death would achieve nothing. Right now, all of his hopes rested upon Marci somehow escaping the palace with Mirana. She was smart, she was resourceful, she was well trained, she knew of a passage nobody else was aware of, she had a good chance of surviving this night.

He had to buy her time. More than that, he had to make sure there would still be an Imperium left for the Princess to rule if she returned.

No, not if. When. Kashurra knew now what he had to do.

Sighing faintly, he reached out and accepted the glass. 'My loyalty is to the Imperium. I live to serve.'

'Good.' Shabarra grinned, holding up his glass. 'Let us drink to a new dawn for the Helio Imperium. Tomorrow, we will stand in the light of the sun and pledge to lead the way forwards.'

Kashurra's words tasted bitter upon his tongue, and the brandy was sour in his throat. Though he spoke the words Shabarra wanted to hear, his thoughts were another matter.

Run, Little Sunbeam. One day, you will both be able to return home. There will be a nation left for you, Princess, and you will take your rightful place upon the Solar Throne. This, I swear.


Mirana felt as though she was trapped in some horrible nightmare, one from which she could not awaken. She could not believe what had happened. It could not be true! It could not!

Marci stopped abruptly and Mirana ran into her, knocking her forwards into the open.

'Hey! Stay there!' A man dressed as a noble, carrying a mace, advanced on them.

Even though she was unarmed, Marci did not show any fear. She pushed Mirana back and took up a combat stance. The man sneered and ran at her, swinging the mace.

Marci dodged the blow, then drove a powerful right hook into the man's side. He staggered and fell awkwardly, gasping for breath. Marci hit him in the temple and he stilled, out cold.

Marci picked up the mace, beckoned Mirana over, then took her hand and led her onwards. Mirana was still too shocked to think clearly and simply allowed Marci to lead her. She could trust Marci. Marci would protect her.

Marci stopped again, and this time Mirana was better prepared. Marci held a finger to her lips, then peeked around the corner.

Mirana still could not believe that she had just watched her parents die. She had never seen anybody die. For her, death had always been some unreal, distant spectre. Even when the illness had begun to claim her father, it had seemed remote and faraway.

Tonight, it was everywhere, and it was trying to claim her too.

Her father was dead. Her mother was dead.

Mirana slumped against the wall and slid down it, shaking and gasping. She clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her sobs.

Marci turned and crouched. Her eyes were unusually hard. Mirana had only glimpsed this when Marci had been involved in full-contact sparring, utterly focused on the fight.

She knew Marci so well though. Her handmaiden was just as upset as she was, but she was forcing herself to remain in the moment. Mirana's life was at stake, and if she lost her composure, the Princess would die.

The tears had to wait. Marci would never abandon her. She would give her life to defend her. If Mirana fell apart here, Marci would die.

She could not allow that to happen. She would not. Marci would not die tonight.

Mirana swallowed and wiped her tears away, then extended her arm. Marci helped her up and guided her onwards.

Now that she was forcing herself to think as clearly as possible, she realised that Marci was not blindly running with her. She had a destination in mind: the library.

Marci did not like to withhold secrets from Mirana, and she had told her about the secret passage Kashurra had shown her. Mirana had sworn to keep it secret, and she had kept her promise.

As they descended to the next level, they heard the ringing sounds of steel clashing and people screaming. Marci slowed and peered around the corner.

Two men lay dead in the corridor. They were wearing Sun Guard armour and livery, but whether they were traitors or loyalists was unclear.

Marci gestured at Mirana to stay put, handing her the mace, then crept forwards. One of the corpses had a crushed head, probably smashed by a mace or warhammer. Marci recognised the other man: Larios. She'd seen him in the barracks, an expert with a poleaxe, and they had sparred together a couple of times.

Their weapons were gone. Marci scowled. The attackers were not fools, and were likely under orders to remove any fallen weapons they found. Though she did not need a weapon to fight, she might have felt better with a blade or two to fall back on. She had been taught how to fight a man in armour with her fists and feet, but Mirana had no combat training whatsoever.

Marci waved Mirana over and they stepped over the corpses. Mirana covered her mouth and heaved at the sight of the corpse with a crushed head. Marci felt sick too, but she had seen more death than Mirana had. She had seen what happened when overzealous guards got carried away.

Life in the palace really had been like living in a different world, and now that world was coming to an end.

Marci padded across the stone floor, wishing there were more carpets in the palace. Even over the sounds of swords clanging and men dying, she thought that her footsteps sounded horribly loud.

The urge to join the battle was strong. Marci wanted to take up a weapon and fight, even kill, to stop the traitors from winning. She actually wanted to run back to the Great Hall and smash Shabarra to pieces.

But she had made a promise. The Emperor had given her his final order with his last breath: save Mirana. She owed him as much as she owed Mirana. If he had refused Kashurra's suggestion to make her Mirana's handmaiden, she would never have left the slums. And she would never abandon Mirana, her first true friend and the one who had helped her to overcome her fears and her trauma, to read and write, the one who had given her a way to speak without a voice.

Others before herself. Mirana before herself.

There were more corpses ahead, servants this time. Mirana heaved again and Marci heard her throw up. She swallowed hard, feeling fresh waves of anger surge within her. She ground her teeth together.

These people were not soldiers, yet Shabarra's men had murdered them without a care in the world. She had known some of them too.

Marci had been trying not to worry about her family. They would surely find somewhere to hide until this was over. But now that she saw how merciless Shabarra and his fellow traitors were, her fear became almost crippling. What was going to happen to them?

Maybe she could find them and they could run together. She had not told them about the secret passage.

She turned to Mirana, who understood at once what the look of fear on her face meant. She wanted to help her handmaiden to find her family, but the palace was vast. The chances of them running into Marci's family without attracting attention were extremely remote. But she could hardly ask Marci to abandon them, nor did she want to.

Mirana nodded. Marci responded with an unsteady half-smile and wondered where to begin. Where would they go? And could she really drag Mirana along? Would it be safer to take her to the library and hide her in the secret tunnel?

She could hear footsteps on the flight of stairs they had not long descended, feet in heavy boots shod with steel. Sun Guard.

The library. She could hide Mirana in the tunnel, find her family and bring them to the library. Then they could all escape together. If she ran into Shabarra on the way, she would crush his skull.

That was also an idea. If she could kill him, his hired killers would have no reason to fight. It would be far too late to save the Emperor, but Mirana was the heir to the Solar Throne.

But she would never succeed. Shabarra was a horrible man, a murderer, fratricide and regicide, but he was not a complete fool. He was not a warrior, he would be well guarded. No, she had to save Mirana. Her place was at the Princess' side.

Hyses might still be alive, he could deal with Shabarra. She would have liked to have helped him, but she could not.

Marci took Mirana's hand and they continued to run.


Marci was hopeful, but she did not know how much effort Shabarra had put into this coup. He had worked hard to help his slaver allies, and they had invested in him, knowing that he would allow them to resume their vile trade with impunity, allowing them to take people from the cities.

He had put their gold to use, hiring killers and bribing members of the Sun Guard, as well as members of the City Watch who patrolled the Palace District and watched the entrances. There was no escape, and the loyalists had been caught off-guard by those they had assumed trustworthy.

There would be no reinforcements. The doors were secured and the curious would be turned away, the sentries claiming that it was by order of the Emperor. As for the off-duty Sun Guard, they were no longer a threat. Shabarra had arranged for their food to be poisoned.

Callardis was going to have to spend a lot of time recruiting more Sun Guard, but he would manage. He was far less picky than Garrisan, who was weakened by antiquated notions of honour and chivalry. The new Sun Guard would be strong, vigilant and ruthless.

Shabarra gazed upon the Solar Throne, knowing that it was his now. It had always been his, by right of blood and divine will. A weak man had convinced his weaker underlings in the Senate to give it to his weak daughter, and the Imperium would have crumbled under her weak rule.

This was what Shabarra told himself. In truth, he had wanted the Solar Throne simply for the sake of power—the power to do whatever he pleased whenever he pleased.

But in his mind, his rule would be glorious, not ruinous. He would bring prosperity to the Imperium, not oppression.

All he had to do now was wait, wait for his cousin to return with news that Mirana was captured or dead.

He hoped that she and her goldfish would be captured alive. He was starting to like the view from that balcony. Maybe he could improve it by throwing them off it.

They'd make a mess of the flagstones below, but that was fine. He'd have plenty of compliant servants to clean it up.


Kashurra had not been allowed to leave his quarters yet, despite convincing Shabarra that he would be loyal.

His door was guarded by two Sun Guard. Kashurra could have killed them, but he forced himself to be patient. He had to wait. As much as he wanted to help, he had to stay where he was.

It was imperative that he remain behind. He had to keep faith in Marci. She would escape with Mirana, and when the time was right, the Princess would return to take the Solar Throne.

Well, there was no need for him to be idle. He could start right now.

Kashurra quietly opened his desk drawers. Inside a hidden compartment, there was a copy of the royal seal. He'd had it made years ago, just in case. Kashurra believed in preparing for every eventuality if possible. Though he had to admit that he had been woefully unprepared for the coup, he had taken at least a few precautions.

It would not be enough for Shabarra to be deposed. But he would make Kashurra's steadily developing plans easier. If he ruled as he had lived, and Kashurra was confident that he would prove to be a useless tyrant, then it would not take long for the people to become afraid of him. Then they would become angry, and Kashurra would have that anger nurtured.

He just had to figure out a way to make them hate their new Emperor, and convince them that Mirana would be so much better than him.

First though, he was going to need allies.

No worries there either. He was confident that Shabarra would provide them. All he had to do was wait.

And that was the hardest thing to do.

Kashurra put his quill to parchment and began to write. It was time to get started. His plans would be delayed, but they could not be stopped.

Everything depended on the Princess taking her rightful place. He was going to ensure that it happened, no matter the cost.


A man in rich finery fell to the floor, his neck snapped, his daggers falling with a clatter.

Hyses ignored the stinging pain caused by the cut to his arm. A lucky strike. By choice, his armour was lighter and covered less of his body. He preferred to move unhindered by the weight of full plate.

Behind him, he heard them attacking the door again. By lucky chance, he had happened across Marci's father and three of her brothers. Knowing that whoever was behind this attack would need free access to every level of the palace, he had ordered them to barricade the door.

The enemy could still come in behind them, but with part of this junction blocked, they would run straight into Hyses. Marci's father and the two eldest sons, Tyras and Moreus, had taken up fallen weapons. Jastin was trying to hold the doors. Of Bandus and Marci's mother, there had been no sign.

'More of them.' Tyras clutched his blade tightly.

'Wait,' Hyses told him. 'Listen!'

There was something familiar about those footfalls…

Wisps of auburn hair gave her away shortly before a pale brown eye peeked around the corner.

'Marci!' Hyses called. 'Marci, over here!'

Marci ran around the corner with Mirana behind her. Both were unhurt, though clearly shaken. Mirana was clutching a mace in her hands, trembling with fear, her eyes red-rimmed and tearful.

Marci embraced her father, clinging to him as she fought to keep her tears at bay.

'Did you see Mother or Bandus?' Moreus asked hopefully.

Mirana shook her head as Marci parted from her father, her relief now giving way to alarm.

'We don't know where they are.' Marci's father explained. 'We've been trying to hold the enemy back, but I don't know much longer we can keep those doors shut.'

'Not for much longer, I'd wager.' Hyses stated grimly. 'The bastards have made a mockery of us tonight. What of the Emperor and Empress?'

Mirana burst into tears and nearly toppled. Marci caught her as the mace slid from her fingers.

'No!' Hyses gasped. 'If they've killed them and they're here...' he exchanged a look with Marci's father, who nodded and picked up the fallen mace. 'Reinforcements should have arrived by now. Whoever is behind this has stopped them somehow, which means that we will be overrun soon. Garrisan must have fallen too.'

'Shabarra!' Mirana managed to force out the name between sobs. 'He did this! He killed my father!'

'That bastard!' Tyras spat. 'We should kill him!'

Marci shook her head and signed frantically at her father. When he did not respond, she signed again, more slowly. But he had understood her the first time.

He sighed, put down the mace and the sword he had retrieved, and approached Marci. He reached out slowly and stroked her hair, his eyes moistening. 'Marci, we can't.'

Marci shook her head, lunged and grabbed his hand.

'No, Marci.' Her father told her. 'I am sorry, little one, I truly am. If the Emperor is… gone, then you must protect the Princess.'

'Your father is right, Marci.' Hyses agreed. 'It will not be long until the enemy arrives here in greater numbers. Is there a way for you to escape?'

Marci nodded and pointed down the centre corridor.

'Good.' Hyses did not ask for detail. If he or anybody else here was captured alive, they would probably be tortured. The less they knew, the better. 'Take the Princess and run. Get her as far away from this place as possible. Flee the Imperium if you must, but the Princess must survive!'

'Marci, you must run!' Tyras added. 'You swore an oath.'

Mirana stopped sobbing as she read her handmaiden's stricken face. She thought that she had suffered this night, but now she realised that what Marci had to do was far, far worse.

Mirana had been but a spectator, Marci was going to be forced to make a terrible choice. She had to choose between staying with her family or running with Mirana.

Mirana swallowed. 'Marci… Marci, I can run.' She clutched at Marci's hand, shaking with terror. Marci would likely die if she stayed, but Mirana could not ask her to abandon her family. 'If you want to help your family, I will understand. I know where to go.'

The truth was that she would never make it without Marci. Perhaps she could escape the palace. She might even escape Rasolir. But out there, alone in the wilderness, she would perish. Though Marci had only a basic understanding of survival in the wild, she was better prepared than Mirana was. More importantly, she knew how to fight.

Marci exhaled shakily. Mirana could tell that she had come to a decision, and she knew what it was.

She would be forever grateful to her handmaiden, even as her heart broke to see Marci forced to make this sacrifice.

Marci sprang forwards and wrapped her arms around her father, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. He held her, tears running down his weathered face.

'They're breaking through!' Jastin cried. 'I can't stop them!'

'Marci, you must go now!' Hyses insisted.

'It's all right, Marci.' Her father gently pushed her away. 'Take Mirana and go. We'll hold them off for as long as we can.'

Marci continued to weep as she brought both of her hands together, clasping them over her heart.

Her father's face creased, and for a moment, Mirana thought that he wanted to say something. It was as if he wanted to reveal something to Marci, as she had wanted to tell Marci just how much she loved her.

But in the end, he could only say one last thing to her. 'Goodbye, Marci.'

Marci took Mirana's hand and ran down the corridor before she could change her mind. It was a sacrifice neither she nor Mirana would ever forget, and it would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

For Mirana to live, Marci's family would die, and Marci had to abandon them to their fates.


There were other ways down, past Hyses and Marci's determined relatives. Larisden might not have been totally familiar with the palace, but he had allies who were.

There were numerous narrow passageways honeycombed around the outer walls of the palace, hidden behind tapestries and used by servants to get around unnoticed. They were not as well used these days, but they were still present.

Larisden had forced his dislocated fingers back into place, cursing the insolent handmaiden and longing to make her pay for her transgression.

If he was wrong, it was no trouble. There was no way for the Princess and her dimwitted friend to escape the palace. If he was right, he would be the one to single-handedly capture the Princess. He could easily kill her servant, and she would be no match for him.

He listened carefully, and a smile bloomed on his face as he heard two people running down the corridor. He had been right!

Larisden concealed himself behind a tapestry, listening intently. His sword would taste blood tonight.


Marci was almost blinded by her own tears as she neared the library doors. She and Mirana had spent hours in there. Mirana had devoted much of her time in those early days teaching Marci how to read and write. Though Marci had considered herself to be a slow learner, Mirana had enjoyed every minute of it.

Marci reached for the handles.

Mirana yelled in fright as the tapestry opposite billowed aside and a lean man with a sword charged at them.

It was Larisden, and his eyes were full of murder.

Marci automatically took up a stance, but what hope did she stand against a trained soldier with a sword?

Marci was a second too slow. The tip of the sword slashed through her dress and tore into her skin, carving through the flesh at the bottom of her ribcage on the left side.

Mirana screamed as blood splattered against the wall and coursed down Marci's front. Larisden unleashed a bark of laughter as he barged into Marci, sending her crashing to the ground. Blood continued to pour from her, trickling across the floor.

Mirana sprang towards her fallen handmaiden, not caring that Larisden was advancing on her. Marci could not be dead! She could not be!

Larisden seized her arm and yanked her away. 'You're coming with me, Princess. The Emperor wishes to see you.'

Mirana writhed and struggled, but he was too strong for her. 'No! No! Marci! MARCI!' She twisted and seized Larisden's hand, digging her long nails into his skin.

Larisden swore and released her. Before she could run back to Marci, he had seized her again, this time by her long hair, and yanked her back towards him. Mirana shrieked and fell against him.

'The Emperor doesn't need you intact, Princess.' Larisden sneered. He moved around her and pushed her against the floor, turning her onto her front. 'And you are no longer Princess of the Sun. Soon you'll just be another corpse. And I might just arrange that mys—' He never finished. Mirana heard him yelp. 'What the fu—'

She heard a solid impact, heard him cry out, and heard bones snap and shatter.

Mirana turned just in time to see Larisden hit the wall. She heard his bones crack, saw his sword fall from his hand, his eyes goggling, almost popping from his skull, as he slid down the wall and come to rest in a limp heap.

Larisden lay against the wall, gagging and choking on his own blood. It was bursting from his mouth, spilling down his doublet.

Standing over him, still bleeding but very much alive, was Marci. Her arm was still raised, her hand curled into a fist. And she too was staring, her eyes darting from her dying foe to her own fist.

With one desperate punch, she had smashed him against the wall. His ribs had pierced his lungs, and the impact had broken his back. His lungs were filling with blood.

Larisden emitted one last, gurgling gasp, wild eyes fixed on Marci, and then his head slumped forwards. Blood continued to run from his mouth, flowing down his doublet and into his lap.

As Marci slowly lowered her fist, Mirana thought she saw tiny golden lights flickering in her pale brown eyes.

A trick of the light, she would think later. Now, as she began to recover from the shock of what had happened, simple, horrifying truths dawned upon her.

Marci had just killed a man. She had killed to protect Mirana. She was hurt, bleeding, maybe dying!

Mirana staggered to her feet and grabbed Marci, not knowing what to do but desperate to help.

Marci held her back and shakily indicated the wound. In his eagerness to capture the Princess, Larisden had made fatal mistakes.

His swing might have killed Marci if it had been lower. But it had caught one of her ribs, cutting a painful furrow but not cutting too deeply. He had also failed to make sure that she was dead.

And he had attacked Mirana. That had been his last mistake, and he had paid for it with his life.

Marci refused to give into either the pain or horror at what she had just done. She took Mirana's arm, kicked open the library doors, and ran inside with her, still clutching her side.

Mirana shut the doors behind them. Marci hurried over to a mirror on the far side as Mirana propped a chair under the door handles. She reached under the mirror as Kashurra had shown her and found the lever. The wall slid aside, revealing the long tunnel.

Marci glanced around, ignoring the pain in her side, and spotted a lantern still burning on the nearest table. She seized it and whistled to Mirana.

It was time to go.


Hyses smashed his foot into his opponent's side, cracking his ribs. As the man wailed and fell forwards, Hyses drove his knee into his face.

They had breached the doors at last. Jastin had fallen trying to defend them. He was still alive, but one of the attackers had cut off his hand.

Tyras had been struck over the head with a mace. Even if he lived, he would never fully recover. Moreus was lying against the wall, clutching at his stomach where a dagger had pierced his flesh.

Marci's father was swinging sword and mace wildly, bellowing curses at his attackers, hacking and bashing anybody foolish enough to draw too close.

His rage could not deflect the crossbow bolt with struck him in the chest. He continued to fight even with the bolt in his lung, but it did not take them long to overpower him after that.

Hyses stood alone now. But he was satisfied.

He had done his duty, as any good Sun Guard should. He had fought for the Emperor—the true Emperor—and he had bought Marci and Mirana as much time as he could.

Now he had only one last duty to perform.

Hyses raised his fists as they closed in, weapons wet with blood.

'In the light of the sun shall I stand.' He intoned. 'And for the Children of the Sun shall I live and die.'

They attacked as one.

Hyses cracked the skull of the nearest one with a spinning backfist, broke ribs with a roundhouse kick, pulped an eye with a right hook. A sword pierced his abdomen, but he dragged his attacker forwards and snapped his neck.

Using the man as a shield, he managed to break the spine of another man, and received a blow from a warhammer for his efforts.

Hyses pitched forwards, his leg broken. The last thing he saw was the blade of a stiletto darting towards his eye.

His last thoughts lingered on Marci. She had been the finest student he had ever trained. It had been a privilege to spar with her, an honour to call her a friend.

She would keep Mirana safe, he was certain of that. Not until her dying breath would she ever leave her.

He had done his duty.


They hurtled down that dark passageway for what felt like the longest hours of Mirana's life. In the darkness, the way lit only by the dimming lamp in Marci's bloodied hand, she kept seeing flashes of the night's horrors in her mind.

Her mother's throat gushing blood. Shabarra stabbing her father in the heart. Assassins hacking down helpless, unarmed men and women with merciless abandon, laughing with murderous joy as blood sprayed across their skin. The corpses of victims lying dead in the corridors of what had been a sanctuary for so long.

Marci making that awful choice to abandon her family to save her. Marci forced to kill a man to save her.

Marci staggered to a halt, panting heavily. She released Mirana's hand, pressing her hand against her side again. She was alarmingly pale, but still she would not stop.

Marci found a lever and pulled it forwards. The slab of rock before them rumbled aside, revealing a short stretch of land dotted with olive and cypress trees which led to rolling hills, their end invisible in the inky blackness.

The moon was shrouded by cloud tonight. They were just outside of the city walls, their path concealed by the trees.

Marci doused the lamp and crept into the open, peering around. Satisfied, she waved Mirana over.

Mirana took her hand, not knowing what else to do. Marci steeled herself visibly, then led her into the night. Her anguish had to wait, no matter how much it hurt.

She had made a promise.

She was going to keep it.


Mirana tried not to look back at Rasolir as Marci guided her into the hills. Marci was still bleeding. Though her wound was not deep, she could not carry on like this indefinitely.

Shabarra must have figured out that they had escaped, because now there were soldiers roving around searching for them. He had even dispatched sphinx riders to scour the land for them.

Every so often, a large winged form would pass overhead. They would both cower under whatever cover they could find, praying that the rider did not spot them.

Rain was pouring down now, but luckily there was no lightning to reveal the two of them. Or perhaps that was a bad thing. Lightning might have driven the sphinx riders away.

After yet another sphinx passed overhead, Mirana had forced Marci to stop. She had torn the sleeves from Marci's dress and bound them around her wound. It was a poor bandage, but it was better than simply letting Marci bleed to death.

Mirana was almost numb now, rendered witless by everything which had happened tonight. She felt as if she was stumbling through a dream, and she longed to awaken to reality.

But this was reality, and she could never escape it.

Marci dragged her forwards. It was only now that Mirana realised that Marci was crying. She was forcing herself to carry on, just for Mirana's sake.

Both of them were now drenched, struggling on through the mud in dresses and shoes which should never have been worn for this.

Something whizzed through the darkness. Mirana heard it hit a tree and stared at it, too shocked to figure out what it was at first.

It was an arrow. Somebody was loosing arrows at them.

Marci grabbed Mirana with both arms and yanked her into the trees, struggling up the slope. If she could get them into the shadows, they might be able to slip away.

'Halt!' That had to be one of the soldiers chasing them. 'Halt!'

Marci could just about see him in the darkness, and she saw him release his arrow.

She did the first thing she could think of: she yanked Mirana in front of her, using her own body as a shield.

Mirana felt Marci jolt against her back, felt her hands slide from her arms as she collapsed. 'Marci!'

Marci fell to her hands and knees, the arrow protruding from her back. Mirana saw the soldier scrambling up the slope.

With a sob, she grabbed Marci and dragged her up into the thicket. Brambles and thorns tore at her dress and her skin, but she could not stop.

Slipping and sliding in the mud, she pulled Marci up into the shadows. Marci tried to stand, shivering and weak, but slipped and fell. Mirana caught her, slipping in turn and falling into the mud. They were both streaked with it, hopefully it would be enough to conceal them.

Boots squished against the ground as the soldier came closer.

Mirana covered her mouth, trying to stifle her sobs. Marci stirred feebly against her, blood welling from around the shaft in her back.

Closer. Closer. Closer he came. He was going to find them!

He was going to try to kill Marci, and she was too badly hurt to fight back.

Mirana spotted a fallen branch, small enough to handle, and picked it up. She lay Marci aside and stepped in front of her. The stick was a hopeless defence, but it was all she had.

The branches before her parted and a man appeared in the gap, his bow raised and the string drawn back, an arrow ready to fly. He was clad in the studded leathers and splint armour of a Legion archer. Water dripped off the arrowhead which would enter Mirana's heart if he released his bowstring.

Mirana choked out a sob as Marci fought to rise. She was going to shield Mirana again. She did not care if she died, she only wanted to save Mirana.

Mirana stepped forwards, putting Marci behind her. 'Please!' More tears slid down her face, mingling with the rainwater falling from the branches above. 'Kill me if you have to, but let Marci go. Just let her live! Please!' She almost fell to her knees as she pleaded for her beloved Marci's life. 'Don't kill her. I'll do anything!'

The soldier stared at her, then at Marci. The poor girl was still trying to stand up to defend the Princess, even as the Princess stood before her and begged for her life.

He had served for five years now, considering it the proudest moment of his life to be accepted into the Twenty-First Legion. He had sworn to defend the Imperium against all enemies, as decreed by the Emperor.

He had been told that there had been an attempt on the Emperor's life, and that he was to track and kill two women suspected in playing a part in the assassination.

But this woman was the Princess, and her handmaiden was only trying to help her. If the Princess was fleeing Rasolir, then that meant…

He had his orders. If Prince Shabarra was now Emperor, he would be executed if he disobeyed his orders.

The Princess he could kill easily. One arrow shot into her heart and it would be over. Her handmaiden was in no state to help her. He could kill her easily too, or just leave her to die.

Yet he knew what must have happened. The Emperor and Empress must have been killed. Princess Mirana had lost her parents tonight, perhaps her handmaiden had lost loved ones too.

He would have assumed that Mirana was running to save herself. But she had not abandoned her handmaiden, and now she was asking him to kill her instead of the sixteen year old girl who was her servant.

Marci had shielded the Princess with her own body, willing to sacrifice her own life for her. The Princess was not running for her own sake, she was running to save Marci.

Mirana had blue eyes. His daughter had blue eyes too.

The soldier lowered his bow and relaxed the string. Slowly, he put the weapon down, then drew his sword and put that aside too. He moved towards the Princess, holding up his hands. 'Put the stick down please, Princess.'

Mirana did not obey. 'Don't hurt her.'

'I'm going to help her. She'll die without help, and I can get that arrow out. Please, let me help you.'

Mirana let the stick drop from her hands.

'I need you to hold her still.' He produced an odd looking tool, a length of metal with a slot in one end, shaped like an arrowhead. 'This will hurt her, but I can't leave the arrowhead in her. Here, put this between her teeth.'

Mirana did as she was told, placing the strip of leather between Marci's teeth. Marci was barely conscious now.

She was dragged back into waking by the pain as the soldier dug the tool into her back. Mirana struggled to hold her still as she thrashed and writhed.

The tool used by the soldier was designed to remove barbed arrows from flesh. If done by hand, it would only cause even more damage. As much pain as this was causing Marci, it was one of the few ways to get the arrow out safely.

He exhaled sharply as he finally pulled it free. Blood ran from the puckered wound left behind.

Quickly, the man produced a needle and thread and closed the wound. 'You'll have to keep an eye on it, just in case it becomes infected.' He also bandaged the wound inflicted by Larisden with proper dressings. There was not much more he could do. He was not a medic. 'Listen to me carefully, Princess. If you go north,' he pointed in that direction, 'you'll reach a river. Follow it and you'll end up on the coast. If what I suspect has come to pass, you will not be safe in the Imperium any longer. Find yourselves a ship, find some way aboard, and cross the sea. Start a new life far from here.'

He took the canteen from his belt, and some pouches with dried fruit and strips of salted meat, and lay them on the ground. 'This is all I have.'

Before he could stand to leave, Mirana reached out and grasped his hand. Her eyes were shining with tears. 'Thank you.'

He swallowed, trying to remain calm. Even if it meant leaving his family, he wanted so badly to accompany them, to protect them, but he knew what he had to do. 'I… I will tell them that you are dead. That should buy you some time. Good luck, Princess. May the sun always light your way.'

He forced himself to turn away, picked up his bow, and strode back down the slope.

Mirana watched him go until he was lost in the darkness.

Her eyes were drawn to the lights still glowing in the windows of the palace, her home.

A home she and Marci had been forced to abandon to an evil man, a man who had murdered her father for the sake of power.

Marci blinked up at her and lifted herself up carefully. Mirana continued to stare at the lights, remembering everything that had happened. Their carefree lives had been a dream which had given way to a nightmare, a nightmare they might never be free of.

Her father was dead. Her mother was dead. Marci's family was gone. They could not return home.

Mirana started to sob again, overcome by grief. She had not even been able to say goodbye to her parents.

Marci wrapped her arms around Mirana, and Mirana felt her shaking as she cried, their tears lost in the rain.


When the rain stopped hours later, they moved on. By then, Marci had recovered enough to walk steadily.

The soldier was as good as his word. He reported that he had loosed arrows at the two of them. He claimed that they had both been fatally injured, but that he had been unable to find the bodies. They had fallen into a ravine, and would likely be eaten by creeps before the corpses could be found.

The patrols were withdrawn, the lie easy enough for Shabarra to swallow.

But the news meant that Marci's family would die believing that all hope was lost, told that Marci was dead. In the morning, their heads were amongst many mounted on spikes atop the Sunrise Gate.

Marci would not hear of this atrocity until later. She knew that her family would die, and was sustained only by her promise to Mirana. Mirana would also carry on for Marci's sake, not her own.

One of them would keep watch as the other slept, holding them as they cried themselves into slumber. Both had to wake with reasons to carry on when all seemed hopeless, their dreams rendered void and their lives turned to dust, washed away with the blood of loved ones.

Mirana drew her strength from Marci. Her just being there was enough to keep her going. For Marci, it was the same, and she also had her promise to hold to. She would never abandon Mirana, she was the friend who had helped her through so much, and she had sworn to protect her.

As they trudged across the now hostile nation which had been their home, they kept each other strong. They begged and bartered, even stole when they had to. Through sheer force of will, driven by their devotion to each other, they eventually reached the coast. There, they managed to secure passage on a ship which would take them across the sea.

Over the rest of the year, they would seek out a safe haven, trying to avoid any settlements in case somebody figured out who they were, and would wind up in the Nightsilver Woods.

Kashurra was not sure why he carried on in those early days of Shabarra's rule. His last hope was apparently lost, dead in the wilderness, not even given a proper burial. Everything he had strived for, the purpose he had clung to, naught but ashes thanks to the selfish ambitions of a murderous coward.

He had come very close to killing the man on more than one occasion.

Instead, he had kept his head down. He had tried to do what he could for the people of the Imperium, in memory of the Princess, because she would have done the same. He kept his eyes and ears open, out habit and perhaps vain hope.

It was almost a week after Shabarra was crowned God Emperor of the Helio Imperium, that he would learn the truth.

Shabarra had wasted no time in allowing the slavers back into the Imperium, and Kashurra had been working on ways to dampen their impact whilst driving people to hate Shabarra. It was not hard.

Senator Gavenus was already making noises of dissent. Kashurra would have to see about meeting him soon. Even if there was nobody to replace Shabarra, Kashurra was not going to let him remain Emperor.

Shabarra was now preparing to attack Misrule. Perhaps there would be opportunity there too. There were certainly interesting rumours regarding a certain woman who lived there, a woman known as "the Slayer".

There was a knock on his door. 'Enter.'

The man who wandered in was wearing a soldier's uniform, but he must have been off-duty for he was without his armour. He closed the door behind him and stood at attention.

'At ease, soldier.' Kashurra told him, standing and moving closer. 'What can I do for you?'

The soldier considered, still tense despite standing at ease. 'I… I have something I need to discuss with you, Viceroy. It's…' he lowered his voice. 'They say that you were always loyal to the Emperor.'

'I am loyal to our Emperor, soldier.' Kashurra wondered if he was about to be forced to deal with a corpse. He hated disposing of dead bodies. They were so troublesome. He never killed unless he absolutely had to.

The soldier frowned slightly. 'I meant the true Emperor, may his rest be ever tranquil.'

Kashurra reassessed the man as he approached the cabinet and found his brandy. 'What is your name?'

'Geriun Atelios. I serve in the Twenty-First Legion as an archer and scout.'

Now Kashurra hesitated. It was the Twenty-First Legion which Shabarra had sent to hunt down Mirana and Marci. And he recalled that it was Atelios who had reported them dead.

He had not returned with any proof. He was known for being honest, but Kashurra needed more than that with most people. 'And what is it that you wish to tell me, soldier?'

'I am taking a risk telling you this, Viceroy.'

'I understand.' Kashurra dared not hope, but there could only be one thing this soldier would risk telling him and no-one else. Could it be? Could there be hope?

Geriun took in a deep breath. 'The Princess did not die during the coup.'

Kashurra stared at him, unable to hide his emotion this time. He stepped closer, almost wild-eyed as his newfound hope threatened to overtake him. 'She lives? The Princess is alive?' It took all of his restraint not to grab the man and shake him.

'Yes. She was the last time I saw her. She wore the tiara we were told about.'

Kashurra now wrestled with the urge to gulp down his entire decanter of brandy. 'And Marci? Her handmaiden?'

'She… she was hurt. I… please understand that I was following orders, Viceroy. I loosed an arrow at them and she shielded Mirana with her own body.' He shook his head. 'I… I've never seen anything like it before.'

'What happened to her?' He almost shouted.

Geriun was taken aback for a moment. 'She survived. Mirana… she begged me to kill her and spare her handmaiden. I could not do it, Viceroy. I couldn't kill them. It wouldn't have been right. So I tried to help them. I patched up the handmaiden, Marci, as well as I could, gave them what food and water I had, and told them to go north. I told them to find a ship and cross the sea.' He faltered, unsure of what to say next. Kashurra was staring at him so intensely he felt as if the man was boring holes in him. 'I… I hope I have not erred, Viceroy. It seemed like the sensible thing to do.'

Kashurra breathed deeply, then turned and poured a large amount of brandy into a glass, which had handed to Geriun before pouring himself a large helping too. 'My friend, you have no idea how grateful I am to you. Truly, I am in your debt, as is the whole of the Imperium.'

'I… thank you, Viceroy. It just seemed like the right thing to do.'

'Because of you, Geriun, there is hope. Let us drink to that.'

Geriun raised his glass. 'To hope.'

Kashurra savoured the taste of the brandy, and the chance that the situation could be salvaged. If they had managed to cross the sea, they would be much safer. But where would they go?

Kashurra thought hard as Geriun finished his drink. This was not something he had planned for. And in a way, it might endanger them even more. There were other threats out there besides Shabarra, enemies who could be so much worse.

'Who else knows of this?'

'Nobody, Viceroy. I swear it.'

Kashurra believed him. 'Good. And now, my friend, it must remain that way, until the time is right. I hope you will understand.'


The gulls wheeled overhead, weaving in and out of the strong sea breeze, crying mournfully as they searched for food amongst the rocks and tidal pools below. The reek of fish was everywhere, and the air tasted of salt.

Mirana looked back across the sea, knowing that in the far distance, further than she could see, was her homeland.

She felt as if she had left a piece of herself behind there. A part of her had died on the night of the Bloody Dance, a fragment of innocence she could never reclaim.

Her birth-right too, perhaps. She was no longer the Princess, not in the eyes of the law. Shabarra would no doubt see to that.

Marci still looked a little unwell, and glad to be off the ship. She had spent much of the journey leaning over the rail. It had been her first time on a ship. Deep water still unnerved her, but she had obviously decided that she would rather risk falling overboard than be stuck below deck with a bucket.

They had both left the dresses behind long ago. Marci had been forced to steal some clothes from a village. Mirana had left a ring behind as compensation, more than enough to pay for the clothes.

She had managed to barter for passage across the sea with few questions, giving away her necklace in payment. Right now, all they had left was one of Mirana's bracelets, her tiara and the choker she had given to Marci.

And now they were in a land alien to them, unsure of where to go. They needed sanctuary, and they had no idea where to start.

Heading inland seemed to be a sensible start, if only to put Marci at ease.

Marci stepped closer, smiling despite her discomfort. She reached out and touched Mirana's hand.

Mirana entwined her fingers with Marci's. At least she still had her. Starting a new life suddenly did not seem as daunting, not with Marci there to support her.

Mirana looked out across the waves one last time, picturing the Imperium, daydreaming of Rasolir and those idyllic years once more. 'Goodbye.'

With that, she turned away, still holding hands with Marci, in search of a new beginning.


Going through another bloody burnout, so don't expect any updates just yet.