The walls of the city glow deep orange with the light of the still-raging flames from high up on the Divid­ing Wall. The remains of Zargon’s exploded statue lie strewn about the city like embers. Gil and Kiddu dart around cor­ners and through dusty alleys, strain­ing to hear the clat­ter of the hoplite’s armor behind them.

As they pass build­ings, shut­ters slam shut, torches blow out. With the watch­tow­ers in flames and the Divid­ing Wall in chaos, natives must be pour­ing through the breach right now—and every­one on the Akka­dian side is brac­ing for a riot.

Kiddu weaves around another cor­ner, her third left in a row. Gil won­ders if she is lead­ing them in cir­cles.

Gil
Where are we going?
Kiddu
I have no idea!

Clank-clank-clank. Two hoplites skid around a cor­ner. They instantly spot Gil and Kiddu and raise their spears.

Impe­r­ial Hoplite
Halt! Now!

They run, around a cor­ner, down an alley, across an empty street. Another block, and they emerge onto the main street bor­der­ing Libri’s canal. They’re on the south of the water­way, but their home, the Tem­ple, is on the north—and there are only so many bridges.

The near­est bridge is two blocks ahead.

The mys­tics have stopped shoot­ing around the city, so the sor­cer­ers’ light­ning has died down. Gil can hear the flow­ing water of the canal to his left, along with the clank­ing foot­steps of the two hoplites run­ning a block behind them.

Other sounds echo through the air as well: the sound of of hun­dreds of natives chant­ing, mud­dled from the dis­tance but the words still clear:

Death to the Empire!
Death to Akkad!

Other sounds echo oppo­site the chant­ing: the sounds of heavy march­ing, rows of armor and shields, sol­diers shout­ing orders.

Gil pants, try­ing to keep up with Kiddu, his stom­ach a knot of pain. He checks behind him. The two hoplites from the Cir­cus are still in pur­suit, and now they’re joined now by sev­eral other sol­diers. One of the new arrivals is hold­ing some­thing out, glow­ing with a point of blue-white light—

Gil
Kiddu, watch out!

He throws him­self down on the cob­ble­stones just as a jagged spear of crack­ling blue-white light shoots past. The hoplites’ lit­tle bolt-wands are not nearly as pow­er­ful as the sorcerer’s killing light­ning blasts, but they’re strong enough to shock you into a col­lapsed, vom­it­ing heap.

Kiddu
Son of a BITCH!

The bolt’s aim was bad, but it nipped her. She turns around, hoists Gil up off the ground, shak­ing her shocked arm. Her dread­locks stick up in frizzy clouds.

They run. The chant­ing gets louder. So do the sounds of their pur­suers, who, Gil real­izes, are now more than close enough behind to sim­ply throw their spears. The bridge is right in front of them now, to their left, just a half-block away—

Kiddu
Shit! SHIT!

They turn onto the bridge, san­dals clack­ing up the arched cob­ble­stones, and as Gil looks ahead he sees what she’s swear­ing about: a crowd of torch-carrying natives is swelling on the other side of the canal. It flows like an angry avalanche, fun­nel­ing as they begin to climb the oppo­site side of the bridge.

Gil instinc­tively turns around, con­sid­er­ing the bridge effec­tively blocked. But then he skids to a stop as he sees the source of the rum­bling march­ing: an entire pha­lanx of hoplites, ten rows deep and spread out across the whole street ahead of him, a wall of shields behind a for­est of black spear­points. The sol­diers march for­ward in per­fect lock-step towards the bridge, like a huge weight slowly but inevitably falling against the natives on the other side—and now he and Kiddu are caught in its path.

Gil
Which way?
Kiddu
We’re prob­a­bly safer with the natives!
Gil
Are you sure about that?

Kiddu is more deci­sive than he is. She pulls his arm and they run towards the chant­ing throng of natives, feel­ing utterly exposed on the crest of the bridge’s high arch. Some of the natives throw rocks, which whis­tle past them and clat­ter use­lessly against the shield­wall of hoplites behind.

Gil can see the faces of the clos­est natives, dressed in rags, mouths wide open, eyes glow­ing wildly in the torch­light. One holds up a flag embla­zoned with abstract cir­cu­lar emblem of Har­rappa. The native notices Gil, opens his mouth, points and yells some­thing over the din—

A tremen­dous flash thun­ders from the Divid­ing Wall, and a nim­bus of blue-white light­ning rips the native man and every­one around him apart.

BackNext