Jean Lorrah - Flight to Savage Empire

Mama!” they shouted, scraping knees and elbows on the debris and shoving each other-

“Here now,” said Zanos, “let me lift you-”

But just as he captured one of them and handed her out to her mother, the rubble shifted, knocking him down on top of the other child.

Both mothers and the three freed children began to scream in earnest, their panic taking hold of Astra, who was making no attempt to avoid Reading. For a moment she stood shaking, her brow sweating, her heart racing-and then she forced herself to take hold as she Read Zanos pinned under the debris, but still sheltering the child. Somehow, he had managed to hold the roof of rubble up with his own strong shoulders, instead of allowing it to knock him down to crush the girl beneath him.

Astra and the man beside her began hauling everything they could reach off the pile. “Hang on, Zanos!”

she cried. “We’ll get you out!”

She could feel the strain on his back-even a gladiator’s strength could not hold that weight for long.

Finally they uncovered his head and arms, spread to hold the debris off the child. When Astra reached for his hand, he said, “No! Reach under me-pull the child out!”

When the man did so, the girl reached eagerly for his hands and was hauled to safety.

Zanos sank to his knees beneath the weight of wall, floor, and furniture. Astra Read total weariness in his overstrained muscles, as if at that moment he could not even climb to his feet unassisted.

By this time other people had gathered, and they quickly dug Zanos out, unhurt, although covered with dust. “Zanos!” somebody exclaimed, and then the people he had helped began to thank him, while Astra wondered if he was going to be able to stay on his feet.

The children were carried into a neighboring house,

and the couple who lived there, insisted, “Come in, come in-rest for a spell. Zanos the Gladiator. An honor!”

“Aye,” said the mother of the injured boy as she smoothed his hair, “you’ll tell your children about this, Borius. You was rescued by the greatest gladiator of all time!”

Zanos sank down on a pallet on the floor-the few chairs were hard wood. These were poor people, but they shared what they had. The woman showed the two now homeless mothers where to put their children to bed, then brought Zanos a mug of hot soup. Soon he was leaning against the wall, taking an interest in the bustle about them.

After assuring the women that all the children needed was to have their cuts and scratches washed, Astra turned to Read Zanos again, and found him recovering quickly. The ready grin was back as he listened to the owner of the house telling everybody who would listen, “Zanos the Gladiator! I seen him from the cheapest seats in the arena, and now he’s in my own house! Remia! Open that cask of ale-”

“No-please don’t,” said Zanos. “The soup was all I needed, really. Thank you. Save everything else to help you help your neighbors.”

Astra could Read his envious surprise at how these neighbors so readily shared their meager worldly goods. In his world it was dog eat dog-and a favor meant something expected in return.

The man ignored Zanos’ protests, and soon put mismatched cups of ale into his hand and Astra’s, saying,

“Remember the day you won your freedom, Zanos? You was the best ever-we all said it. I won ten coppers on you that day-though Gromius said nobody could beat three of the best gladiators in one afternoon!”

“The gods were with me, ” Zanos replied.

Astra remembered-the whole city had talked of nothing else for days. She hadn’t been there, of course, but she had heard that all three opponents were considered “unbeatable,” yet Zanos had dispatched them one after another. As a reward for a show such as Tiberium had never seen before, the Emperor himself had granted Zanos his freedom, and the whole city had celebrated as if it had happened to each and every one of them personally.

Such was the impact of this strange man. It seemed instinctive to like him-but still something about him disturbed her. When he caught her eyes on him, he scrambled to his feet. “We must get you back to your Academy, Magister.” And he would brook no argument against walking with her all the way, although she could Read that his body ached with the strain he had put it through to hold up that collapsing floor.

He left her at the Academy gates, and headed back the way he had come. As she watched him disappear around the corner, Astra shook her head in puzzlement. “It’s a miracle we weren’t crushed,”

she had said to him after the earthquake. And then he had saved those children-another miracle? Did the gods look with special favor on this man? Had the gods brought him into her life this day? Strange feelings stirred within her, and her memory replayed, uninvited, the feel of his strong arms lifting her-

No ! she told herself firmly. / am a Magister Reader, virgin-sworn. No man has a place in my destiny .

Certainly not that strangely compelling ex-gladiator.

“A Reader ?” the old woman asked, appalled. “Have you gone mad?”

Zanos shook his head, fighting the confusion of fatigue. “What did you expect me to do? I saved her life.

You always say life should be sacred, even to one who has killed so many in the arena. When the earthquake started, I just saw somebody in trouble. I didn’t think about the color of her cloak-”

“Or consider the danger!” Serafon countered. “She might have Read you-might have discovered your secret! Indeed, she may be Reading for you at this very moment, bringing the city guards to arrest you!”

“Serafon, she’s not like that!” Zanos protested, although he couldn’t explain why he believed that Astra wasn’t just like any other Reader, constantly spying. Before Serafon could ask, he squatted down to her seated level and said gently, “I protected us. Once I realized she was a Reader, I led her from the temple area so cleverly she never realized I wanted her away from here.”

“You think you could fool a Reader?”

“She had no reason to suspect anything,” he explained. “I apologized for shouting at her at the arena today, told her stories-I kept her mind so busy she had no time to think about Reading where I had come from.”

They were in an anteroom of the Temple of Fiesta, the goddess of the harvest, whose high priestess Serafon was. She was a woman in her late fifties, dressed in the beige-and-orange robes of her calling.

Her iron-gray hair was bound with bands of gold. Her bearing was regal, but her concern for Zanos was as clear as if he could Read her.

“This was the same Reader who discovered white lotus in Clavius’ blood,” she continued. “What if she suspects you know more about it than you admitted to her?” Her eyes drifted to the shrouded corpse on the nearby table. “You were his owner. You should have known every facet of his life and training. She could have been in that alleyway to spy on you-she might think you’re involved in the drug trade.”

Zanos let out a derisive snort. “The Readers don’t care about drugs in the empire! If they used their powers where it really mattered, there wouldn’t be any white lotus in Tiberium. They’re paid to look the other way, just like the city guards.”

“I’m sure some of them are,” Serafon conceded, “but certainly not all of them. This Astra is a Magister, not a Master. She’s young, maybe idealistic. Those Readers who are corrupt can’t take just anyone into their confidence-they don’t want to split the wealth too many ways, for one thing. And for another-”

“I know.” It was the same reason Zanos and Serafon dared not try to identify others like themselves. “If the wrong person found out, their secrets could be made public before they could silence him… or her.”