We were muchly jostled.
"Hear the bars," asked Marcus.
"They are sounding out peals of rejoicing." I said.
It was now two days after we had read the first postings of the conciliatory message of Lurius of Jad on the public boards.
"Hail Ar! Hail Cos!" cried folks about.
It was difficult to keep our feet.
"Are they coming?" asked a man.
"Yes," said another, moving out further onto the avenue.
"Back," said a guardsmen. "Back."
We had come to this coign of vantage, such as it was, very early this morning, even at the second Ahn. Yet, even at that time, many had been about, some with blankets to sleep on the stones. It was in the open area near the Central Cylinder, which loomed in the center of a circular park, the territory open enough for defense, midway in the avenue.
"Hail Ar! Hail Cos!" cried a man.
Many folks held small Cosian banners which they might wave. Banners, too, of Ar were much in evidence.
The night before last, the night of that day on which we had taken note of the postings, the gates of Ar had been dismantled and burned. Some citizens had attempted to interfere with this, but were discouraged with clubs and blades. There had even been sporadic mutinies of small contingents of guardsmen, determined to hold their posts, but these for the most part dissipated when it became clear that the orders were from the Central Cylinder itself. Two of these armed reluctances, yielding neither to reason nor orders, were quelled bloodily by Taurentians. Gnieus Lelius, it seems, had been deposed, and Seremides, in a military coup he himself characterized as regrettable, had seized temporary power, a power to be wielded until the High Council, now the highest civilian authority in Ar, could elect a new leader, be it Administrator, Regent, Ubar or Ubara.
"I had not thought to see the gates of Ar burned, not by her own," said Marcus. "No," I said.
The metal plating had been pried from them, to be melted down. The great timbers then, shattered and separated, had been formed into gigantic pyres and burned. I think the light of these would have been visible for fifty pasangs. Marcus and I, and Phoebe, had watched the burning of the great gate for a time. Many folks from the city, too, some in numbness, some in sorrow, some in disbelief, had come out to watch. We could see their faces in the reflected light. Many had wept. Some uttered lamentations, tearing their hair and clothes. It had been uncomfortably hot even within a hundred pasangs of the flames, so great was the heat generated. I had come through that gate many times.
We could hear cheering in the distance.
"Cos is within the city," said Marcus.
"At last we are free!" cried a man.
"We have been liberated!" cheered another, waving a Cosian banner on a small stick.
The city was festooned with ribbons and garlands. It was hard to hear Marcus beside me, what with the sound of the bars ringing and the shouts of the crowd.
"Has there ever been such a day for rejoicing in Ar?" asked Marcus.
"I do not know," I admitted. After all, I was not of Ar.
"Do you think Cos will now sack and burn the city?" asked Marcus.
"No," I said.
"They are within the walls," he said.
"Selected, controllable contingents, probably mostly regulars," I said.
"You do not expect them to burn Ar?" he asked.
"No," I said. "Ar is a prize, surely more valuable as she is, rather than in ashes."
"Is the population not to be slaughtered?" he asked.
"I would doubt it," I said. "There is a great pool of skills and talent in Ar. Such things, too, are prizes."
"But surely they will sack the city," he said.
"Perhaps little by little," I said.
"I do not understand," he said.
"Study the campaigns of Dietrich of Tarnburg," I said.
Marcus looked at me.
"I do not doubt but what Myron, polemarkos of Cos, or his advisors, have done so."
"You speak in riddles," said Marcus.
"I can see them!" cried a man.
"Look, too, the Central Cylinder!" cried a man.
At the edge of the circular park, within which rears the lofty Central Cylinder, a platform had been erected, presumably that thousands more, gathered on the streets, could witness what was to occur. We were within a few yards of this platform. This platform could be ascended by two ramps, one in the back, on the side of the Central Cylinder, and one in front, opposite to the Central Cylinder, on the side of the Avenue of the Central Cylinder. Phoebe was close behind Marcus, clinging to him, that she not be swept from us in the throngs. "Look there, at the foot of the platform!" said a man.
"The sleen, the scoundrel, the tyrant!" cried a man.
There were cries of rage and hatred from the crowd. Being dragged along the side of the platform, conducted by a dozen chains, each attached to, and radiating out from, a heavy metal collar, each chain held by a child, was a pathetic figure, stumbling and struggling, its ankles shackled and its upper body almost swathed in chains, Gnieus Lelius. Other children too, some five of them, with switches, hung about him like sting flies. At intervals, for which they watched eagerly, receiving the permission of a supervising Taurentian, they would rush forward, striking the helpless figure. Muchly did the crowd laugh at this. Gnieus Lelius was barefoot. Too, he had been placed in motley rags, not unlike the sort that might be worn by a comedic mime upon the stage. I supposed this was just as well. Gnieus Lelius, thus, might have some hope of evading impalement on the walls of Ar. He would perhaps rather be sent to the palace of Lurius of Jad, in Telnus, to be kept there for the amusement of Lurius and his court, as a caged buffoon.
"Sleen! Tyrant!" cried men.
Some fellows rushed out to cast ostraka at him. "Take your ostraka, tyrant!" they cried. Gnieus flinched, several of these small missiles striking him. these were the same ostraka, I supposed, which, a few days ago, would have been worth their weight in gold, permits, passes, in effect, to remain in the city. After the burning of the gates, of course, one need no longer concern oneself with ostraka and permits.
"We are free now!" cried one of the men, flinging his ostrakon at Gnieus Lelius. Other men rushed out to fall upon the former regent wit blows, but Taurentians swiftly, with proddings and blows of their spears, drove them back.
Gnieus Lelius was then, by the front ramp, conducted to the surface of the platform. Many in the crowd, now first seeing him, shrieked out their hatred. There he was put on his knees, to one side, the children locking their chains to prepared rings, set in a circle, then withdrawing. The five lads with switches were given a last opportunity, to the amusement of the crowd, to strike the former regent, then they, too, were dismissed.
The sounds of the drums and trumpets to our right were now closer.
"Look!" said a fellow. He pointed in the direction of the Central Cylinder from which, but moments before, Gnieus Lelius, and his escort, had emerged.
"It is Seremides, and members of the High Council!" said a fellow.
Seremides, whom I had not seen this clearly since long ago in Ar, in the days of Minus Tentius Hinrabius, and Cernus, of Ar, with others, members of the High Council, I gathered, now, from the side of the Central Cylinder, ascended the platform.
"He is not in the robes of a penitent or suppliant!" shouted a fellow, joyfully. "No!" cried others.
"He is in uniform!" cried a man.
"Look," cried a man. "He has his sword!"
"Seremides retains his sword!" cried a man, calling back to those less near the platform.
There was much cheering greeting this announcement.
Then the High Council stood to one side, and Seremides himself returned to the point on the platform where the rear ramp, that near the Central Cylinder, ascended to its surface.
The ringing of the bars then ceased, first those of the Central Cylinder and then those near it, and then those farther away, about the city. This happened so quickly, however, that it was doubtless accomplished not by the fellows at the bells apprehending that those most inward in the city had ceased to ring but rather in virtue of some signal, presumably conveyed from the Central Cylinder, a signal doubtless relayed immediately, successively, by flags or such, to other points.