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

‘God’s grace go with you, Lady,’ he said. ‘And remember what I told you.’

Gerutha looked pale. Lilla didn’t blame her. The noise alone was intimidating with so many people crowding the causeway. ‘What are the crew going to do while we’re over here?’ Gerutha asked.

‘I wouldn’t worry about them, lass,’ sniffed Einar. ‘They’ve got a town full of foreign tits, a tafl board and a barrel of wine. I imagine they’ll be very happy.’ He reached out his hand. ‘Shall we?’

The gateway was like the entrance to a wasps’ nest, people swarming in and out of the city, and not one paying them the slightest heed. Einar walked ahead, Lilla and Gerutha arm in arm behind, staring in mute astonishment, their senses overwhelmed.

Inside the wall, the street was clamouring with the rattle of handcarts and wagons, and packhorses and mules clopping along the pavings. There were myriad faces, skin of every shade: white, yellow, brown, even some black as jet-stone, though most were sun-bronzed like Lilla and her companions. As they shuffled onwards amongst the stream of people, the buildings rose over them like a canyon of stone, squeezing the sky into a slender belt of blue overhead. Lilla thought of her home in Uppsala where everything was wood. Here, everything was stone. Archways, columns, shops, street pavings, staircases that led who knew where, crowded porticos. It was too much to take in and she noticed only details. A baker pulling bread from an oven on a large wooden paddle, a boy knocking over a basket of yellow fruit, a roar of air as a furnace opened, two old men seated on a step concentrating on little black and white pieces on a chequered board scratched into its surface.

They passed soldiers wearing plumed helmets, food hawkers yelling at the tops of their voices; whores cooing like doves to Einar who just laughed and walked on, holy men in long black robes with hems dragging through the gutter dung.

‘Gods in Asgard,’ Einar exclaimed in dismay as they spilled out of the street at the top of the hill. ‘How in the name of Odin’s arse are we going to find one man in all of this?’

Before them spread a huge field of marble filled with people. At either end were two enormous gates, and forming the perimeter was an unbroken chain of towering white facades, more splendid still than anything they had seen so far. Shooting skywards from the very heart of the space was a massive column, thick and purple. Lilla’s gaze climbed in amazement, shielding her eyes against the sun to make out the statue at its summit. A man, rendered in solid bronze. Their god, she wondered, or else a king. Maybe even the Emperor Constantine from whom, she had heard, the city took one of its many names.

She stared up at him for a moment and then her gaze came crashing down again to the level of the forum, where the chatter of hundreds of traders echoed off the marble houses. The improbability of finding Erlan amid all of this hit her like a fist in the belly.

‘We’re not here for one man,’ she said.

‘Aren’t we?’ returned Einar. ‘Then do you mind telling me why the Hel we are here?’

‘To see their king.’

‘Their king?’ Einar shook his head, exasperated.

‘Emperor,’ corrected Gerutha.

‘King, emperor? Whatever the son of a bitch calls himself, I’m sure he’s just dying to give you an audience, ain’t he? It’s not as if he’s a little busy with a war on or anything.’

‘You forget yourself, Fat-Belly,’ Lilla replied quietly, trying to keep her temper. ‘Besides, the emperor and I will meet as equals.’

‘Equals! Look about you, my girl! Whoever rules this place is as far above us poor wretches from the north as the stars in the sky.’

‘I’m not your girl, and don’t forget it,’ she snarled angrily. ‘He will meet with me. I’m sure of it.’

‘You’re sure of yourself, true enough,’ he replied sulkily, scuffing his toe in the dust.

Gerutha took Lilla’s hand. ‘I believe in you,’ she said.

‘Oh, wonderful,’ scowled Einar, turning away.

‘I do,’ insisted Gerutha. ‘And if Erlan is here, we will find him too.’

‘Thank you,’ smiled Lilla. She wished she had her servant’s confidence.

‘Sure, there can’t be many dark-haired cripples from the north in this city,’ added Gerutha.

‘And what if there’s none?’ snorted Einar. ‘What if he’s dead?’

‘He’s not dead,’ murmured Lilla. ‘He’s here. I know he is.’

‘Well, your faith in that is all very touching but let me remind you that this city is about to be sealed tighter than a dog’s arse. There’s a hundred thousand maniacs somewhere over there –’ he waved his paw vaguely to the west – ‘who could think of nothing finer than to bust in here and flatten the place, and everyone in it.’

‘We’ve come this far. I’m not afraid.’

‘Well, maybe you should be.’

‘All right then,’ she said, finally losing the will to fight him. ‘What are you suggesting?’

‘I say we give ourselves a time limit. Five days. If we find no trace of Erlan and if you gain no audience with this emperor, we return to the ship and the crew.’

‘You saw how big the place was from the crossing,’ Gerutha countered. ‘In five days we’ll have barely scratched the surface.’

‘Look, you brought me along to protect you. And I ain’t about to let you two fine ladies fall into the hands of some rampaging horde of . . . whatever it is they call themselves.’

‘Arabs,’ said Gerutha.

‘Right then.’

Lilla knew Einar had reason on his side, and that his intentions were only for her best. . . Then again she had left reason behind a long time ago. ‘No. We stay as long as we have to. I’m not leaving here without an answer.’

‘If the blockade closes and we’re still here—’

‘I know!’ she snapped. ‘Enough!’ Her head was spinning – with the heat and the crowds and all that she’d seen. She wiped away the sweat beading on her