Marc of Angels

Untitled Part 1

Nyad blurted out Marc's fears: "the Kerka Porta was welcomed news to the Emperor. They are looking for it now." She smiled as though they were somewhere in a world without wars, without men who killed for women and less.

Xerxes stared at Marc. Marc had the stone eyes that did not close. He used them to turn Xerxes stare away. "This could be a great weapon in the war, this could save thousands."

"Or two", Xerxes said. Nyad saw his haggard look and asked him to get more rest. She spoke more to Asif than to Xerxes.

Marc could brook neither topic, the betrayal of Xerxes' secret book or the care of Nyad for her mentor. "Why doesn't anyone steal the golden globe?" The three others just stared. "The one Atlas holds, near the three snakes."

"I don't think I'd tell you if I knew." Xerxes was unhappy.

"The Big Apple", said Nyad.

"No, a globe, the world."

"Yes. It's called the Big Apple. It is why this city is oft called the Big Apple. It is from the old days, the Olympics first issued apples as trophies. Atlas has the largest one, the big apple of everything. It is coveted by many but touched by none." She said.

"Another useless Greek tradition," said Xerxes. Asif hung on every word if they were discussing his fate. "When Olympians made homes in cities, they tore down part of their wall. The more Olympians, the less wall. Had we done that here, we'd be speaking Arabic right now."

Xerxes struck the table with his thumb for emphasis, spilling out a little more anger than the subject held. Chalky dust formed a ring on the table where it had struck. "They want the heart and soul of this city, the Big Apple that Atlas holds. We are the key to the western world and they want this city to launch into the far countries, to make the world their Islamic domain, their Caliphate."

Marc looked off at the nearest statue, one of a Roman emperor. No doubt his gift to the city. It was absurd to think that such statues could incite men to war against each other. Or was it absurd to think that these statues could incite men to peace?

The head of the Roman Caesar nodded as if in agreement and Marc froze in his thoughts. Nyad felt it through his arm where her hand lay near like dog and master. It nodded again and then turned partly away from Marc's stared and leaned as if changing weight on his marble feet. Then he tilted forward and back and his head toppled off.

Marc was up out of his chair and had his hand to his sword hilt out of reflex. Asif had jumped up and back, spinning around to take in everything. Where the statue had stood, a hole in the ground and from that hole grew helmets and hands and lances. Marc flipped the table from under the unwary Xerxes and turned it as shield for Nyad and her mentor. By then others screamed.

Turks were pouring forth from the hole in the ground and scrambling up to gain foot hold in the city itself. If they won the moment, they'd charge the gates from the other side. Nyad gathered her wits faster than the professor, or was it the professor who told her to run into the inn. Marc swung into the first one and dropped him with his hands bloodied upon his face. He lunged past that corpse and skewered the next and then shoved him back into the hole to bar others from a quick egress. There was only him and them. Help was far off. A few others dropped their plates of food and fled their tables and the area.

Xerxes had grabbed three men who looked of fighting age but had no weapons or training. And only Xerxes to lead them.

Marc redoubled his effort and circled the hole quickly to spread chaos among those coming out, to appear as though they might be surrounded. At the least, they would be slowed coming out and not know from which direction to defend. Marc could see down into the hole; it was the end of a long tunnel under the walls and ran past this spot. There were Turks on all sides below the hole, the cave in spot, and it may not have been their intention to come out at that spot. Certainly, late at night would have allowed them to go undiscovered.