The winner’s chest was heavy, but it was small enough for me to carry in one arm. I took Khalim by the hand—let the Seven see with their unblinking, jewel-like eyes that he was mine and under my protection—and walked with brisk purpose down from the platform.
The nobles on their cushions sat still, but the crowds below them had begun to surge toward the exits. Elsewhere in the city, I knew, the forces of House Darela and House Kaburh were attacking the city’s stores of food and weapons. The majority of the guard was here, in the arena, and they rushed toward the gates to slow or stop the miners’ exodus. We would have to move quickly.
“Our chariot’s no good,” Aysulu said. She walked beside me, needing almost two steps for every one of mine. “We’ll need another one to carry the four of us.”
We moved against the flow of the crowd, going first to our waiting area where we had stored the rest of our belongings, and then toward the stables. A few of the chariots had not survived the day; of the seven that had run the race, four were still standing on both wheels.
I considered them for the briefest moment before I tossed the treasure into Ashoka’s blue-painted chariot and climbed in after it, pulling Khalim in behind me.
Aysulu looked at me, shrugged, and soon had both of our horses hitched in their places. She clambered in and took the reins, and Garvesh placed first his case of books and then himself in the back.
We burst out of the stables and wheeled around toward the nearest gate—it was on the south end of the arena, and it was not yet completely blocked by either fleeing miners or the guards stopping their escape. I saw Jin waving the people into a loosely organized line, and Heishiro and Yanlong holding open the heavy doors.
They caught sight of us and called for the others to make way. With a little maneuvering, we reached the gate and emerged into the sunlight. My last sight of the arena was of the guards descending upon the crowd, and Heishiro drawing his long sword to defend them.
Carefully, Aysulu took us through the throng of people. The market was in chaos. When we reached an open stretch, she shouted and flicked the reins, and we thundered over the pavement and into the city. The streets were nearly empty. Only a few citizens had gone this way.
“Shouldn’t we head for the east gate?” I called over the rattle of wooden wheels against stone.
“The south gate,” Aysulu answered. “Everyone else is going east. We won’t be able to get through.”
The chariot tipped onto one wheel as she rounded a sharp corner. It leveled with a jarring crack.
“We can lead some of the pursuit away from the miners,” she added when we were on a straight road again.
I looked around, but we were not yet being chased. The watch had not been prepared for a coordinated flight from the city. By now they were probably aware that the few guards left by the granary and the armory were under attack. I thought to suggest that we circle back around the arena and attract their attention again, but it was at that moment that we arrived at the south gate.
It was barred with a heavy beam, and the two men in sky-blue uniforms standing before it crossed their spears and shouted for us to halt.
Aysulu pulled the horses to a stop. She looped the reins around her forearm and raised her bow, drawing back an arrow with the fletching to her ear.
I leaped from the back of the chariot, a javelin in one hand. I missed the weight of my axe. With my shoulders back and my head high, I strutted up to the gate.
The guard closest to me took a step back, but he kept his spear up. “Stay back,” he warned. “You are not permitted to leave the city.”
“You presume to tell me where I cannot go?” I said. “I am Eske of the Clan of the Bear. I have tread upon the ocean at the end of the world and battled the sea-serpent there. I have survived the long winter of the North and traveled across the red desert. I am world-treader and beast-slayer, champion of the Cerean Tournament, and I will not be so much as hindered on my path by such as you.”
The two guards stared at me, wide-eyed, glanced back at Aysulu’s ready arrow, and exchanged a look between them. They dropped their spears and ran, disappearing into an alley between a row of houses and the wall.
I set my javelin down and placed both my hands beneath the bar on the door. It took all my strength to lift it up and throw it aside. That done, I flung the doors open to the dusty wind.
“Well done,” Aysulu said as I returned to the chariot. “Let’s go.”
We sped along the outer wall. Again, I noticed no pursuit, and it wasn’t until we came around to the eastern side of the city that we saw another soul. I had expected people to be pouring out of the east gate, but it was only a trickle, running in pairs and small groups through the slums and up the miners’ path to the mountains.
I also saw dark banners on the horizon. They were stretched taut by the wind, and though they were too far away for me to make out the insignia, I knew that those banners belonged to the Tribe of the Lion and Wolf. While their leaders were still in the city, having competed in the tournament, the reavers were here, and they were coming closer at a gallop in a great cloud of red dust. They were moving toward the mountain path, and had yet to notice the single chariot beside the wall.
Aysulu flicked the reins again, and we cleared the shadow of the wall and rode out to meet them, a plume of dust drifting up behind us. The sky was growing hazy, its bright blue paling to gray. A layer of clouds stretched out above the horde and reached with wispy fingers toward the Iron Mountain.
Closer and closer the reavers came, until I could see their banners clearly, and where the fading sunlight shone off the points of their spears and the curved blades of their swords. The fleeing miners saw them and cried out, and they ran up the path, some abandoning the bags they carried.
This was the pursuit we needed to divert. I readied one of my javelins and waited for them to come within range.
Two of their archers broke away from the group and galloped toward us. An arrow arced over our chariot, disappearing into the sand.
Aysulu looked to her bow. “Can any of you drive a chariot?”
She already knew the extent of my experience with horses, and Garvesh shook his head no.
“I’ve driven a plow,” Khalim said. “But—”
Aysulu handed him the reins and picked up her bow. “Just keep us going straight.”
His eyes went wide, but he nodded and turned his focus to the horses.
Aysulu loosed an arrow. It sailed harmlessly into the wind, which was growing stronger by the minute. Her second arrow hit one of the archers in the hip as he readied another shot. He fell from the saddle, and his horse slowed before turning back toward the horde.
Another arrow came flying toward us. It grazed Aysulu’s shoulder, tearing through her tunic and leaving a bloody line on her skin. Garvesh ducked, crouching down over his case of books, his elbows knocking into my knees as he covered his head with his arms. The chariot was barely large enough for the four of us, and we were not moving as quickly as we had in the race.
I adjusted my stance as best I could and threw. My javelin cut through the dusty air and struck the next reaver full in the chest.
He fell, but his foot caught in the stirrup and overbalanced his horse. It careened away from us and into the path of the riders who had followed. They were slowed long enough for Aysulu to make another shot.
I looked at the advancing horde. Beyond them, the horizon had disappeared, and in its place stood a column of red dust, as tall as the sky, that stretched in either direction as far as I could see. The air stung my face, and grit caught in my nose and mouth.
“A storm’s coming!” Aysulu shouted over the howl of the wind and the din of galloping hooves. “We’ll need to take shelter!”
Another of the reavers neared, his spear under his arm and its head leveled at me. I threw another javelin. It caught him full in the chest. He stayed in the saddle, but his horse fell back behind us.
“Take us into the mountains,” Aysulu told Khalim, pointing to where the foothills gathered around the base of the peak, below where the path looped around the city to the mines. There were no more people running from the city gates. I hoped they had all found safety.
It took a moment for Khalim to steer the chariot. We turned in a wide, uneven curve, but turn we did, and soon the hills rose up ahead of us. Our pursuers were falling behind, and the greater part of the horde had disappeared into the storm. Aysulu’s next arrow felled another of the archers.
There was one more reaver still chasing us. He was faster than we, and gaining quickly. I threw another javelin and missed.
The reaver rose up in his stirrups and pulled back an arrow. There was no way to avoid it, packed as we were into a lumbering chariot. He struck Aysulu in the shoulder, and she cried out and nearly dropped her bow.
The wound bled freely. Her face went as pale as a snow-covered field. There was nothing to be done about it now, with Khalim driving the chariot and no room in the carriage.
The reaver’s horse caught up to us as he circled around for another attack. I hoisted a javelin, the second to my last, and threw as soon as his horse began to turn.
The javelin went into his side, below the ragged edge of his rough mail shirt, and emerged from his belly. He fell from his saddle and into the dust.
We rode into the hills, and as the first waves of the storm reached us, we found a great felled tree among the rocks. It had been hollowed out by time and weather, and with the surrounding boulders and the chariot turned on its side to block more of the wind, served as an adequate shelter. At Aysulu’s direction, we stretched our tents over the top of our makeshift fort and coaxed the horses inside.
Outside, the storm raged. The canvas over our heads trembled with the wind, and dust blew in around its edges and between the tree and the overturned chariot, but we were safe.
Khalim broke the head off the arrow and pulled the shaft from Aysulu’s shoulder, and his magic lit up the tiny enclosure. That done, he went to help her calm down the horses, who were not pleased to be contained in a space where they could not stand upright.
For my part, I turned to the winners’ chest of treasure. I opened the lid and marveled at the riches there: gold coins stamped with an image of the mountain, tiny jewels in all colors, and pearls that must have come here from a distant sea. It glittered even in the dark of the storm; it was more wealth than I had ever imagined. I had not even the faintest idea of what to do with it.
“By the old gods,” Garvesh said. “That looks to be quite the sum.”
That was one way of putting it. “A quarter of it is yours,” I reminded him. “What are you going to do with it?”
He looked into the chest. “I suppose I could travel more, once this is all over. I’d like to see the kingdoms of the West one day.”
“I could buy a ship,” I said.
“Two or three ships, at least,” said Garvesh.
Aysulu opened one of the packs and handed out some of the dried meat and bread we still had left. “We have work to do first. The storm will cover our tracks and scatter the horde, but we shouldn’t tarry and let them find us again. As soon as it passes, we should head for the mountain stronghold.”
“You should rest,” I said. “I’ll take first watch.”
We ate our meager meal, and as the others made themselves as comfortable as they could in the hollow of the tree, I leaned against the chariot and listened to the wind howl.
“Eske?”
I looked up. Khalim sat beside the horse the miners had given us, stroking its ears absently. It lay with its head in his lap, eyes closed, all its worries forgotten.
He smiled. “I’m glad you stayed.”
Despite the storm and the horde that lurked somewhere within it, and despite the angry gods of Phyreios and their wrath that was to come, I too was glad of it.
Toss a coin to your writer? ko-fi.com/madelinecrane
Space Whales Press 
2 thoughts on “Beyond the Frost-Cold Sea: Chapter XVIII”