A Burning Sea by Theodore Brun (snow like ashes series TXT) 📗

of liquid fire were still burning, drifting south with the current. Anna came up to Lilla and huddled up under her cloak. ‘I’m cold,’ she said softly. ‘Do you mind?’

There was a sound on the stairs. They turned and saw the guard challenging some newcomer standing in the gloom. ‘I carry word from the empress,’ said a husky voice.

‘Yana?’ said Lilla in surprise, recognizing her servant’s voice.

‘I’ve a message for Princess Anna. From Her Majesty the Basílissa. It’s urgent.’ This last to the guard, and pointedly.

‘Well, come on – let the girl through,’ said the emperor. ‘What is it? Is the empress all right?’

‘Erm. . . no, Majesty. The physician said she is in much pain. He fears the worst. For the child, I think he means. She is asking for the princess.’

‘I must go to her,’ said Anna, squeezing her father’s hand.

‘Of course, at once,’ said Leo, his face paling. ‘Tell her my prayers are with her. And with the child.’

Anna kissed him on the cheek. ‘Will you come too, Lilla?’

‘I don’t wish to crowd the empress—’

‘She won’t mind that.’

‘And I hoped to see the fleet return safe to harbour.’

Anna clasped her hand earnestly. ‘It would mean a lot to her, I know. And me. . .’

Lilla frowned. She was reluctant to leave her lookout even though she knew she could not hope to know Erlan’s fate for some hours yet.

‘Please.’

‘Very well,’ she sighed. ‘Gerutha will come too. Her healing lore is vast. She may be able to help.’

Anna gave a little yelp of joy then kissed her father again and hurried to the stairs. Yana followed and behind her Gerutha, leaving Lilla to cast a last look out to sea.

‘Go with them,’ Leo ordered the guard. ‘See they reach there safely.’

The sentinel bowed and followed the other women down the stairs. Lilla and Leo were momentarily alone. ‘Farewell then, Majesty,’ she said and made to leave, but Leo caught her arm.

‘If anything should happen to Maria. . . if. . .’ He fixed her with his strong, steady gaze. ‘I will have need of you, Queen Lilla. Do you understand me?’

‘Need of me?’ Lilla flushed with sudden searing anger. ‘You mean as all men of power have need of me. Listen, Basíleus. There’s something you should understand. I’m barren,’ she hissed. ‘My womb is fallow. A man like you has no need of a woman like me.’

Leo’s cheeks darkened, then his jaw grew hard, but before he could answer she had pulled her arm free and left him standing there. To savour his victory, alone.

Erlan had done all he could for Arbasdos, either from spite or from folly. Only the gods knew which. The general’s left leg was a blistered, bleeding swell of meat. The arrow wound had been cleaned, but was still suppurating dark blood. His breathing was shallow and he was delirious. Despite all this, the physician told Erlan that he should still live – after some time on a bed of sickness, of course.

Maybe it’ll teach the fool some humility, thought Erlan. Although knowing Arbasdos, probably not.

Erlan had burns himself and a wound across his hip which the physician had a servant dress for him. After that he left Arbasdos in the physician’s care, taking a sword he found in the general’s private chamber. Some dark nagging instinct told him he still might need it.

As he left the general’s mansion, he had only one thought in mind: to find Lilla. Out on the street, the change in the mood of the city was unmistakable. He heard shouts and whoops and the sound of merrymaking from the poorer quarters that lay west of the general’s gate. Higher up the hill, the sound of singing rose through the windows of the basilicas of the Holy Wisdom and the Holy Peace.

His body was crying for rest but he trudged up the hill towards the Augustaion, forcing his limbs onward. His hand was shaking. He kept seeing flashes of fire in his mind’s eye, kept hearing the shriek of dying sailors. Two youths came running down the hill. ‘Did you hear?’ they yelled excitedly. ‘The Arabs are finished! The Bulgars massacred them to a man. The siege is over!’

He caught the older boy by the arm. ‘Are you certain? They’re finished?’

‘Massacred, I tell you! The Bulgars won a great victory!’

‘The city’s saved,’ whooped his mate.

In spite of all the rest, this at least was welcome news, if true. Though with Einar gone, it felt like a bitter victory. But whatever Erlan felt, the mood across the First Hill was euphoric. The Augustaion was lit with a hundred flares and swarming with people: monks, shopkeepers, soldiers, patricians, house-slaves, senators – all laughing and drinking and dancing together. He pushed through them all, wanting to run but unable, wanting to scream, to clear a path, to draw his stolen sword and hack his way right through them. Anger squeezed tighter and tighter in his throat.

But even he had wit enough to recognize the battle-heat still in him. So his sword remained sheathed and he put his shoulder forward and hurried through the throng as best he could.

Yana led them through the palace gardens, keeping stride with the sentinel and at such a pace that the other women hardly had breath to talk. Although Anna tried. She kept asking Lilla whether she thought her mother would be all right but Lilla had little to reassure her. Of course, she had her own reasons for hoping the empress would recover.

Yana raced up another flight of steps, urging on the sentinel, up to the platform terrace where the Golden Hall stood. Its bulbous dome rose above them, a black shadow against the midnight blue of the sky. Reaching the top, Yana looked back down to check the other women were following.

Why Yana? thought Lilla suddenly.

Why would the empress send such a lowly servant to fetch them and not one of her ladies-in-waiting, or else another palace guard? Lilla reached the top of the stairs.