A burning cyclone of elation enveloped Isana and threatened to rip the consciousness from her mind. She closed her eyes against it, and only Ehren's support kept her from falling to her knees. The fire was too hot. It had to be turned aside, channeled away from her, before she went mad. She opened her eyes and forced herself to stand straight.
"Hail!" she cried. "Hail Gaius Octavian!"
Ehren gave her a glance, then took up the cry as well.
"Hail Gaius Octavian!"
The legionares formed up around her were next.
"Hail Gaius Octavian!"
It spread rapidly from there, from ruin to ruin, century to century, street to debris-choked street.
"Hail Gaius Octavian!"
"Hail Gaius Octavian!"
"Hail Gaius Octavian!"
Chapter 58
The crowbegotten crowd kept on screaming his name, and Tavi wanted to tear his hair out in pure frustration.
Arnos was getting away.
The Senator had vanished from his spot on the wall, and Tavi spotted him heading into the crowd, lifting the hood of his practical brown cape. That explained why he'd worn the simple traveling clothes instead of the expensive robes, then.
Tavi pointed at him and shouted at his men to pursue Arnos, and the roar of the crowd grew louder. No one set off in pursuit, though, and Arnos was headed into the thickest part of the crowd.
Tavi turned to Kitai and screamed her name.
There was no way she could have heard his call, not over the furor of the crowd, but her head snapped around toward him, her features set in concern.
Tavi flashed her hand signs for enemy and fleeing and pursue. Then he pointed at Arnos.
Kitai's eyes widened, and she turned her head, following the line indicated by Tavi's finger. Her eyes narrowed, and she shouted into the ears of the Marat near her. The barbarians rose and began bounding from one roof and ruined wall to the next, lithe and agile as hunting cats.
One of them landed in the circle of space the detachment of the Battlecrows had cleared for his mother and shouted something to Ehren. Then he rushed into the crowd.
Tavi signaled him with stay and defend, and trusted him to work out that he was to stay with Isana.
Ehren nodded and signed back understood, which happened to be a motion very like a Legion salute, and stepped closer to Isana, who looked distracted and preoccupied. Little wonder. Even up on the roof, the storm of emotion in the crowd below was grating against Tavi's senses. His mother must have been half-unconscious from it.
Tavi turned and looked at the wall, where Araris waited. He'd never actually made a leap of that distance before tonight, and his ability to jump so far had been strictly theoretical until he'd actually done it. He wondered if he'd be able to do it without a murderous maniac at his back to encourage him.
No help for it. He'd never get through the still-roaring crowd on the ground.
So he focused on his intentions, drew strength from the stone beneath him, speed from the night breeze, and hurtled back across the same space to the battlements.
He'd leapt too hard, and he slammed into a massive stone merlon before he could stop himself. His armor soaked up much of the impact, and he pushed away from the stone as Araris came to his side.
"Amos!" Tavi wheezed.
Araris nodded once, his eyes intent on the crowd below. "I see him."
"Go," Tavi said.
Araris broke into a run, moving down the battlements, and Tavi followed him, peering down at the crowd, until he saw the brown-cloaked hooded figure roughly pushing his way through them, heading for the far side of the ruined city.
Then Arnos stopped in his tracks and began backpedaling. Tavi looked past him, and saw a pair of Marat crouched on a wall ahead of Arnos, their dyed manes blowing in the wind.
"Here!" Tavi said. He turned to another ladder mounted on the wall, took a few rungs normally, then clamped his boots to the outside of the ladder and slid rapidly down it, until he hit the ground. He turned and hadn't gone two steps before Araris hit the ground behind him. The singulare sprinted past Tavi, drew his sword, and ran forward, striking at the stones of the ground as he went. Each strike sent out a shower of sparks, a flash of light, and Araris bellowed, "Make way!" as he went.
The crowd parted before him.
Tavi moved forward, taking his cue from the Marat, who had formed a slowly tightening ring around Arnos in a classic hunting technique. None of them, he noted, were actually attempting to apprehend the Senator. The Marat had a strong sense of the appropriate. Arnos was Tavi's enemy, foremost. Barring any practical considerations that might alter the situation, they would leave it to Tavi to deal with him.
Tavi caught up with Arnos as the panting Senator shoved through a group of camp followers, knocking an old peddler over, and seized a woman by the arms. He shook her, snarling something at her Tavi could not make out over the noise.
"Guntus Arnos!" Tavi bellowed.
Arnos's head snapped around. He bared his teeth, his eyes desperate, and hauled the woman around, putting her body between his own and Tavi's, holding her by the hair. He drew a dagger in his other hand and held it to the woman's throat.
"This wasn't the plan!" Arnos shouted.
Araris took a few steps to the left, and Tavi to the right. Tavi had drawn his sword again at some point. He realized, with a little shock of recognition, that the woman was the First Spear's companion. The noise of the legionares and civilians around them became confused and began to dwindle.
"It's over, Arnos!" Tavi said. "Put the knife down!"
"I won't," Arnos spat. "I won't. It isn't going to end like this."
"Yes," Tavi replied. "It is. Let the woman go."
"Madness!" Arnos cried, shaking the woman's head through his grip on her hair. "Madness! You can't let this go on! You can-"
Suddenly both Arnos and the woman jerked, and the steel head of a Canim balest bolt erupted from her chest.
The woman's face went white, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her knees gave way, and she melted slowly to the ground, her arms spread to her sides, her open mouth to the sky.
Arnos stood in place behind her, and the dagger fell from his fingers. He looked down at the blood flooding from the hole in his chest, where the bolt that had spitted them both emerged. He screamed, a sound full of protest and terror. It was a breathless scream, one with no strength, and his hands scrabbled at his chest, as if he thought he could brush the wound away if only he acted quickly enough.
Tavi walked over to him, Araris at his back.
Arnos was letting out desperate little grunting coughs, and blood bubbled from his lips as he did. His hands kept moving, but his fingers seemed to have gone limp, and he was only slapping uselessly at his lifeblood as it spilled from the massive wound the Canim projectile had left in his chest.
Tavi flashed signals to the Marat. Archer. That way. Find.
The barbarians loped into the ruins, eyes bright. Their night vision would give the unseen assassin nowhere to hide.
"Healer!" Tavi bellowed. "Now!"
Amos turned a look of pathetic gratitude on Tavi, reaching out with his useless hands to grasp at the young man.
Tavi slapped Arnos's hands away with one motion and dealt him a contemptuous blow to the face with the back of his hand with the next. Amos fell to the ground and landed on his side, shaking his head. He tried to speak, but blood strangled whatever he'd been going to say.