The palace guards, thrown into disarray by the Brigadier's bodily attack and unable to mount a proper defence, died as Darniss and the gate guards fired their weapons at them. One bullet grazed the Brigadier's arm, but it went on to kill the man beneath him, who'd been about to thrust a dagger into his side. He took the knife from the man's dead hand and stabbed it into another of the men he was lying on, then rolled to the side, onto an empty patch of ground where he was safe from the bullets flying in both directions above him. The whole battle only lasted a few moments and then silence fell, but the Brigadier waited another few seconds before climbing back to his feet, just in case. “We did it!” he heard someone saying. “They're dead!”
“There's more coming,” someone else said. The Brigadier scrambled upright and saw another group of palace guards running towards them. Guards who hadn't seen the Radiant controlling the weather and so had no idea what all the fighting was about. All they knew was that the Princess was escaping and that some of their own men had turned traitor. Some of them might have come over to their side if they'd had the chance to explain things to them, but there would be no time for that. All the fugitives could do was run.
“Let's go,” he said, leading the way out through the gate and into the city. The two women and the gate guards followed him. The Brigadier saw that Darniss had taken a bullet to the arm and was squeezing it with her other hand to try to stop the bleeding. The last gate guard to come through had the presence of mind to close the gates behind him. He put a huge key into the lock and turned it, making a loud series of clunks as the mechanism turned. Bullets were already flying, though, and sparks flew from the railings as they bounced off, screaming as they ricocheted into the air. The man ducked as he ran to catch up with the others, hurrying across the plaza to the nearest of the narrow streets.
“Anyone know where we’re going?” asked the Brigadier as they ran.
“I know a... a place,” said Briggs, struggling to find the breath to speak while running. “There's a... a place with a secret... a secret basement... used by opium... smugglers. We can hide there... for now while we think... think of something more... permanent.”
“Won't the city guard know about it?” asked the Brigadier, but the look on the guard’s face was all the answer he needed. He struggled to contain his disgust. This wasn't his country, he told himself. Corruption in the guard wasn't his concern. He should just be grateful that it gave them this bolt hole, no matter how unsatisfactory it might be. “Very well,” he said. “Lead on.”
Briggs led them through what passed for the city's upper class districts as fast as possible. People stared in surprise as they passed and the Brigadier heard someone say “Princess!” while pointing at them. That was bad. Their pursuers could follow the trail of witnesses they were leaving behind. Why didn't I wait until nightfall? he asked himself. This would be so much easier with the cover of darkness. The sense of urgency bad been so strong, though, and their only intention at first had been to make contact with the Princess and receive orders from her. Even so, he should have anticipated that this might happen. He would have some serious explaining to do when he had time to have a proper conversation with the Princess.
After they'd gone a mile or two, the streets became darker and narrower and the buildings were shabbier, with graffiti, litter and signs of damage that had clearly been done some time ago and that no-one could be bothered to repair. Homeless people were sitting in dark corners wrapped in filthy blankets and rats scurried along the gutters. The guard who was leading them took them around another corner, looked back to make sure they were out of sight of their pursuers, and slowed to a walk.
He doubled over, resting his hands on his knees while he gasped for breath, and the other guards were little better off. Out of shape, thought the Brigadier with disgust. Poorly disciplined and corrupt. And these men had been trusted with guarding the residence of the Royal family! And yet Carrow had good soldiers. He'd met many of them during a lifetime of border skirmishes and diplomatic incidents. Honest, decent, worthy enemies. He’d met more good people during the travel across the country he’d just undertaken, and even these men whose corruption and unfitness was currently outraging him were helping him because of a loyalty to their own country, their own people, that outweighed their loyalty to their traitor king. Perhaps I shouldn’t judge them so harshly, he thought. No matter how unworthy they are for the duty with which they'd been trusted, their hearts are in the right place. They just lacked the right training, the right leadership. He made up his mind to be patient with them, therefore. It wasn't as if he had any choice anyway.
“Where now?” he asked.
“It's on the other side of the city,” said the guard. “I just wanted to get us away from the other guards first. We've got a bit of a lead on them now, they'll have to search half the city to find us. We should be safe so long as we keep moving. If we keep to the back streets and alleyways we should be able to work our way around to it before nightfall.”
“Lead the way then.”
The Brigadier pulled up his clothing to examine the knife wound as they walked, and the Princess came closer to examine it as well. “Could be worse,” he grunted. “I'll get my needle and thread out when we stop for the night.”
In the meantime, he used his knife to cut a strip of cloth from the bottom of his vest, which he did without removing his outer clothing. He then cut it thinner to double its length and tied them together to make one long strip which the Princess helped him wrap around his waist as a makeshift bandage. The bullet wound to his arm was trivial and he just tied a handkerchief around it until he had time to attend to it properly.
He then examined the Princess’s head injury. The blood had dried, he was relieved to see, but when he parted the blood-encrusted hair he saw that the bullet had gone under the skin and skidded along the surface of her skull, leaving a shallow groove in its wake. He gave Darniss a stern glare.
“That maid was about to curse me,” pointed out the Princess. “If she hadn’t taken the shot, I’d be a completely unharmed kestrel right now.” She gave Darniss a grateful smile and the former Matron smiled nervously back. Ardria noticed for the first time that Darniss was hurt and cut a strip from her housekeeper’s dress to bandage her arm with. “Well, this is awkward,” she said, smiling. “Of all the people I thought I might owe my life to...”
“There was a time when I never thought I'd risk my life for you,” replied Darniss.
“Don't mistake her actions for altruism,” said the Brigadier, though. “She is with us because she has no choice. She has nowhere else to go. She protects you because you are her last hope. She may be useful to us, but never turn your back on her.” Darniss glared at him but said nothing.
“Even so,” said the Princess. “What the two of you did... Sneaking into the King's palace and rescuing me from right under the noses of his best men...”
“There were four of us, and I failed to get the others out alive,” replied the Brigadier. “One of them was Private Grey, the last member of your escort. The other was our most important asset in Carrow. It was worth their lives, and mine too, to get you out, but losing men never gets any easier.”
“I know,’ replied Ardria. “I lost my whole escort. I lost my beloved maid Teena, and some good friends I met in the country. The Radiants have a lot to answer for.”
“And answer for it they will,” said the Brigadier earnestly. “With interest.”
The Princess nodded, and they walked side by side through the narrow, rat infested alleyway with a convicted traitor and four enemy soldiers who would have shot them dead if they'd met them in the street yesterday. As they went, curious, calculating eyes stared at them from darkened windows. Word of what was happening would soon be all across the city, they knew, but that might be no bad thing. The people of Carrow were evidently fond of the Princess. They might find a lot of people willing to help them.
The sun was setting when they finally reached the den of the opium smugglers. Briggs went in first, to explain to anyone who might have been in there, but it was empty and he emerged to lead the others in. The whole place reeked of opium resin, making the Brigadier wonder how they could possibly have hoped to keep it secret from the city guard. By bribing the guardsmen, of course, he realised. Cutting them in for a share of the profits. They’d probably enlisted the aid of a few guardsmen before ever moving a single ounce of opium into the city.
The Princess’s nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar odour. “This is what opium smells like?” she said. “It's horrible!”
“You should try it,” said one of the guardsmen. “You might like it.”
Another guardsmen snickered until he saw the Brigadier glaring at him. The snigger died in his throat and he hurriedly looked away, suddenly fearful. As Briggs and the fourth guard went into another room to check the place out, though, he heard one of them say “I'd like to see a Princess high on drugs.” The other man chuckled, the sound cut off as a door closed behind them. It caused the Brigadier to reflect that he had seen the Princess high on drugs, and an uncharacteristic smile creased the corners of his mouth.
The basement below them contained hundreds of packets of opium resin stacked up against the wall. The smugglers had left no-one behind to guard it, which struck the Brigadier as strange until he remembered all the eyes in the windows of the buildings around them. The smugglers wouldn’t leave anyone actually on the premises, to be arrested if the guards raised the place, he realised. The guards would be in the surrounding buildings where they could deny any knowledge of the opium if they were questioned. Even now, someone was probably on their way to inform the smugglers that someone was interfering with their stash, and the Brigadier just hoped they'd be away from here before any trouble broke out.
They settled down to sleep on the side of the room opposite the opium, making themselves comfortable on the pile of empty sacking that Briggs said was used to hide the drug while in transit. The Brigadier remained awake and on guard. In case the opium smugglers came back, he said, but in fact he was more worried that one of the guards might try to get back into the King's good books by turning the rest of them in. One or two of them did stir in the night and stared at him before lying back down, but whether they’d been thinking of betraying him he never found out.
The opium smugglers never turned up, either during that night or the next morning. They were prepared to suffer the loss of this small hoard, it seemed, rather than risk capture by the city guard. They never had to spend another night there, though, because a small crowd of other people gathered to see them as the sun rose again.
An elderly woman was the first to arrive. Braver than the rest, perhaps because she was already approaching the end of her life and so had less to lose. Her skin was beginning to acquire the transparency of a creature whose flesh was preparing to return to the ground as a million tiny globs, and her fingers were short and lacked nails, as if the flesh there had already done so.
“Is it true?” she asked, her rheumy eyes shining with hope as the Brigadier dragged her in by the elbow before she attracted attention. “Are you the Brigadier, come to lead the country in revolt against the King? Is it true that the Princess is here?”
“I am here,” said Ardria, coming forward. She looked nothing like a Princess any more. Her once fine clothes were torn and dirty, and her face and hands were covered with grime, and yet majesty and authority still shone from her. Something in the way she stood there, perhaps. Tall, regal and unafraid. Or in the expression on her face which showed the strength to impose her will while, at the same time, compassion for the less fortunate people of the world. Whatever it was, the woman immediately fell to her knees before her and gave a great cry of gratitude.
“Your Highness! You have come, as they said you would. You have come to save us, to deliver us from King Nilon and his gang of villains.” She look sideways at the guards as she said this, suddenly looking unsure.
“They have joined the fight against King Nilon,” the Brigadier reassured her. “You have nothing to fear from them.”
The woman nodded, but looked only partly reassured. She returned her attention to the Princess. “There is a place we can go,” she said. “A better place than this. A place where you can hide and meet the people. As word spreads, they will come from all across the city to see you. From all across the country!”
“That's good,” replied Ardria, “because I have a great deal to tell them. King Nilon is not the true enemy. The Radiants are the real enemy. Nilon is just their puppet...”
“Perhaps the sermon can wait until we’re in more secure surroundings,” said the Brigadier, who was still afraid that a gang of drug runners might suddenly turn up, guns blazing, to take back their stash. He was also made nervous by the crowd of people who were gathering in the street outside, a gathering that was sure to be noticed by the King's men. He turned to the old woman. “Can you take us to this safe place you mentioned? And tell the crowd not to follow us there. There’ll be time for them to meet the Princess later, when we can arrange a gathering somewhere safe and secret.”
“Leave it to me,” she said, a single tooth visible in her mouth as she grinned. “Leave it to Old Abby. I'll tell the crowd to scatter, then take you to your new lodgings.”
She then tottered back out into the street and they heard her talking to the crowd in her thin, scratchy voice. Meanwhile, the Brigadier edged closer to the Princess so he could talk quietly without being overheard. “We have to give some thought to how we're going to get you out of the city,” he said.
“I'm not going anywhere,” she whispered back, though. “I came here for a reason, to tell these people that the Radiants are their real enemy. I can't leave now that I'm finally making progress.”
“Your safety is the first priority.”
“Helberion is the first priority! Mankind is the first priority! Removing the Radiant threat is the first priority. Our best hope for accomplishing that is for me to stay here and talk to these people.”
“Your father, the King...”
“My father agreed that I should come here. I have a job to do and I intend to do it to the best of my ability.”
“Your Highness...”
“That's an order, Brigadier!”
She glared at him, her eyes full of determination, and the Brigadier saw that there was no point in trying to change her mind. He simply bowed, therefore, and turned his mind to how he would keep her safe as a fugitive in the enemy's capital city.