Jean Lorrah - Flight to Savage Empire

A sudden pounding at the front door drew Astra’s attention away from the chest. She Read through the door-and gasped as she recognized, “It’s Vortius!”

“What’s he doing here?” Zanos asked, already heading out of the room.

“Zanos-”

“Yes, I know,” he said, putting a silencing finger to his lips as he pulled the door shut behind him. With her inner vision, Astra followed him to the front door and watched him admit Vortius, his two bodyguards, and a middle-aged man in the robes of a magistrate. Zanos welcomed the official with a measure of respect, ignoring the gambler and his two thugs.

“I’ll come straight to the point, Zanos,” said the magistrate. “Vortius claims you are unable or unwilling to pay off the gambling debt you incurred yesterday. He says you owe him nine hundred gold marks.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Zanos shot an angry look at the smug gambler. “I don’t owe you a thing.”

“You can’t lie your way out of it, Zanos,” Vortius

retorted, pulling documents out of the folds of his cloak. “You wagered one thousand marks on the outcome of your match yesterday, but put up only a hundred marks at the gambling center. That is permitted, but now you must pay the rest.”

“Now I know you’ve gone insane!” Zanos exclaimed. “First of all, I bet only one hundred marks, and second, I won’t”

“Yes, I know you won,” the magistrate said, “which puzzles me all the more. Why did you wager against yourself?”

Zanos snatched the documents from Vortius’ hands. Astra bit her lower lip as she Read the unbelievable: a wagering agreement between Zanos and Vortius for one thousand gold marks-on Malien. The line for the bettor’s identification bore the mark of Zanos’ personal seal.

“Forgery!” the gladiator exclaimed. “This is fraud-”

“On the contrary,” said the magistrate, “I was witness to the transaction; your manservant made this wager as he always does, and finalized it with your seal. You did entrust him to place that bet for you?”

“Not that bet! Not against me! Why would I bet against myself in a death match?”

“Oh, come now, Zarios,” Vortius sneered. “It’s happened before: the heavy favorite makes a deal with his opponent. The favorite is ‘defeated’ with a slight wound, and he and his friends get rich by betting against him. You were the clear favorite yesterday, but something must have gone wrong between you and Malien. You were forced to change your plans and kill-”

“That’s a lie!” Zanos declared.

None of this makes sense , Astra thought. ” Zanos “lost” the bet, then what’s in these -?

Rocks ! Incredulously, Astra Read that the chest on the table was filled not with gold, but with stones. So were the other two. Ard betrayed him , she realized, feeling sick. Oh, Zanos …

“You know the gambling laws, Zanos,” the magistrate was saying. “If you cannot pay the debt by noon today, then the state will seize your properties and turn them over to Vortius, after the appropriate taxes have been deducted. And if the assessments show that the value of your properties does not fully cover the debt-”

“-which I’m sure it doesn’t,” Vortius put in.

“-then you will be turned over to Vortius as his bondservant, to work off the rest.”

Zanos tore apart the documents and made a leap for Vortius’ throat. The two bodyguards grabbed the gladiator’s arms, barely able to restrain him.

“Zanos, no!” Astra projected, even though she knew he couldn’t receive her thoughts. If Zanos unleased his powers on four men, including a government official, that mob he feared might consist of half the empire!

For a few brief moments, Zanos became Readable, and Astra could sense his struggle to regain his composure.

“Bondservant!” he spat. “That’s just another word for slavel I’ll never be your slave, Vortius!”

“You will do as the law directs.” The gambler smiled. “Or you will find yourself sold into the galleys.

Besides, working for me is not so bad. I can be quite generous. After all, I could have pressed my claim last night, and spoiled your celebration.”

That’s a lie , Astra’s powers told her. Vortius had to be someplace else last night, and couldn’t have pressed his claim, even if he’d wanted to .

But where had he been? She knew that the answer to that question was very important, but Vortius annoyingly would not think of it so she could Read it.

“You have three hours to get your affairs in order, Zanos,” the magistrate said. “We will return at noon, and if you do not have the money at hand, all that

you own-including your stable of fighters-will be confiscated.”

The magistrate left, followed by the gambler. The two thugs released Zanos and followed their master out the door. The gladiator slammed it shut behind them, then closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against it, not moving… not even when Astra approached and gingerly touched his shoulder.

“There’s no gold in those chests, is there?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “There must be something I can do to help-”

Zanos whirled around, glaring at the bedroom. The small bedside table exploded into pieces, sending the wooden chest crashing to the floor. It split open on impact, spilling stones in all directions.

“Zanos, please! Calm down!”

Slowly the anger drained from his face. “Let’s sit down,” he said. “I’ve got to think.”

They sat in the kitchen, for Zanos suddenly realized that he was very hungry, a delayed reaction from yesterday. He consumed eggs, bread, cheese, fruit-anything that didn’t take much preparation. Astra sat across from him, nibbling on a piece of cheese while she stared at him intently.

As he satisfied his body’s needs, his mind ran in circles, searching for a way to pick up the pieces of his shattered dream.

“Why do you have to bribe the captain of the Nightwind ?” Astra interrupted his thoughts. “Cant you just buy a passage on a merchant ship headed north?”

He shook his head. “One of the things I hate most about this empire is that freedmen have different laws than natural-born citizens. A freedman is not allowed to leave the empire without applying for permission and proving that his business is not to go home. If former slaves could reach their homelands, they might reveal some of the slavers’ kidnapping tricks, and make it more difficult to obtain slaves for the empire. A freedman can’t even become a merchant sailor or fisherman unless he has a family in the empire-in other words, hostages-to make sure he remains a loyal citizen.

“Besides, I don’t have any money now. And all the ships of honest merchants are part of the war fleet, launching in a day or two.” He slammed the table with his fist. “I can’t believe that Ard and Lanna would do this to me! In less than a month, they would’ve been free and on their way back home.”

“Perhaps Vortius threatened them into betraying you,” Astra suggested.

“No. Ard created the pretense of safeguarding my ‘winnings.’ My trust allowed him to get away with it.

He arranged things so that there would be plenty of time for him and Lanna to flee-probably to Vortius’

town house.” He let out a short, angry laugh. “When I woke up this morning, I thought I had about a week left to my enslavement in this land. Then you told me I had to reduce it to less than a day. Now, thanks to Vortius, I have less than three hours to get you, me, and my friends out of Tiberium.”

“But where will we go?” she asked.

“North. Across the border and through the savage lands. The border is four days’ ride from here. By the time we cross it, the Aventine army will be invading the savages’ west coast. The Adepts will be too busy moving against them to worry about our little group. We should be able to avoid the battleground and reach a port in the far north. Once we get there, we’ll do whatever is necessary to get on a ship to Madura… What’s wrong?” he asked at the strange look on Astra’s face.