Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [170]
“Yes, yes!” Treia cried, sinking to her knees, faint with relief. She barely heard him and did not understand him, but it didn’t matter. She was desperate and would have agreed to anything he asked of her. “What is the ritual?”
“ ‘The air blows on the fire that consumes the earth that boils the water that douses the fire. When the smoke rises, throw down the bone.’ ”
Hevis disappeared. Treia rose shakily to her feet, using a wall for support. She stood a moment in the darkness to collect her thoughts, imprinting his words on her mind. Then, feeling stronger, she walked back out onto the playing field. Raegar was already coming to look for her.
“Are you all right?” he asked, regarding her with concern. “You are white as milk.”
She gave him a reassuring smile. “I prayed to the god. All is well.”
“Thanks be to Aelon,” said Raegar.
Skylan had impressed upon Acronis the need for haste, and at first they made good time. The road that led them through the Temple grounds was almost deserted. The sounds of chanting and prayers to Aelon could be heard rising from the Temple.
But when they reached the city streets, their progress slowed almost to a crawl. The streets were clogged with people and barricades, noise, light, and confusion. Seeing the Legate, resplendent in his armor, the people cheered him. He told them he needed to reach the harbor and ordered them to clear a path for him and his escort. They were eager to obey, but it took time to dismantle the barricades.
Skylan kept trying to reassure himself that Treia would not summon the dragon before dawn, but he was frantic with impatience to reach the arena. He sat on his horse, fretting and fuming at the delays. Everywhere they stopped, people begged the Legate for news. He would tell them that all would be well; the enemy would most certainly be driven back. They cheered him and his soldiers again when they left.
No one cheered Keeper. At one barricade, a rock struck the ogre on the back of the head and he swayed in the saddle, almost falling. Skylan rode to his side, but the ogre waved him away.
“I have a hard head,” he said.
Skylan saw blood flowing down the back of the ogre’s neck. Acronis looked very grim, and after that, they took the side streets, though the going was slower.
Just when Skylan thought they would never arrive, he saw the vast, open playing field through a break in the cluster of buildings. He noted with astonishment people in the grandstands and more people gathered about the fire pit in the moonlight. He recognized one of them, a man far taller than the others. Raegar was there, which meant Treia must be there as well.
Skylan was breathing a sigh, thinking they would be in time, when Acronis suddenly reined in his horse.
“What is it?” Skylan asked. “What is wrong?”
“Listen,” said Acronis.
Skylan yanked off his helm and then he heard it—a dull, roaring sound that was like waves pounding on a distant shore. But they were far from the ocean and Skylan was trying to figure out what could make such an odd sound, when he saw an orange glow light the sky. Not dawn. He was facing west, not east. The orange glow grew brighter and then he knew.
The sound was from waves, but not of water. Waves of ogre warriors roaring their battle cries to the rhythmic beating of drums and blasting horns.
“They’re burning the warehouses,” said Acronis. “And the harbor fortifications. After that, they will set fire to the houses—”
Skylan didn’t wait to hear more. He kicked his horse in the flanks and rode on. He needed no further guidance. The arena lay directly ahead of him. If he could see the flames, Treia would be able to see them as well, and she would know that the ogres were not going to wait for the dawn.
And neither would she.
Aylaen caught up with him, and rode beside him. “Thank you for coming to save Treia. I know you don’t like her and that you’re doing this for me.”
Skylan saw fire burning in the fire pit. He could see Treia reflected in the light of the leaping flames and Raegar