Chapter 667: A Fair Trade

Chapter 667: A Fair Trade

A Fair Trade

Martel stormed through the complex, yelling for his officers to join him. Each time someone did, they confirmed that they had seen no sign of the emperor. His personal quarters had been searched and found empty. Plenty of nobility and servants alike had been questioned with a blade at their throat, and none admitted any knowledge of his whereabouts. The grounds had been combed over as well, checking every booth in the stables and behind every bush.

"One man might hide, but not a whole family," Eleanor reasoned. "The praetorians fought this hard to buy time. They have made their escape."

"They can't leave the city," a mageknight declared. "We got every gate heavily guarded."

"They can if a ship is waiting for them in the harbour," Godwin argued.

"I thought we had the docks locked down?" Martel asked sharply. The thought of all their efforts this night being wasted drove away his weariness, making him feel incensed instead.

"We needed fresh soldiers for this assault, sir, which we had to draw from the cohorts assigned there. All others had seen combat. We should still have plenty of guards posted there, but in the dead of night with dedicated praetorians pushing through..." The legion prefect did not finish his sentence.

"They have to cross the whole city while avoiding discovery," Eleanor pointed out. "We may still catch them."

"Get me a horse!" the captain yelled.

***

Together with Eleanor, Martel rode with all speed through the empty streets of Morcaster. Confused patrols watched their progress, at times jumping aside to get out of the way. Despite the haste, it was a long journey from the palace in the northwest to the harbour down south, but Martel knew this played in his favour. The longer the journey, the slower and more difficult it would be for the fleeing emperor, especially moving with children.

Martel felt like throwing up. The emperor's family, his sister's children. The expected nausea struck him at twice the usual strength, and the battlemage thought about throwing himself over the edge of the lighthouse.

***

At length, the captain prefect and his legate staggered back towards the docks. A mageknight greeted them. "Sir, forgive us! They surprised us. Several praetorians sacrificed themselves to allow the emperor and his companions to make into a boat."

"Did you get to them?" Martel asked hoarsely.

She gestured behind her. In the dark, he could vaguely make out a group of people on the pier. Some held spears and had to be his legionaries while the others looked unarmed. "We fished up most of them, yes, sir, including the emperor himself," the prefect explained.

"Most?" Martel's vision grew hazy, as a host of negative sensations and emotions sank in.

"The emperor's sister, sir. She saved her children first, and the boat sank before we could get to her. She could not swim, as it turned out."

Martel stumbled backwards until his back hit a couple of crates stacked on the docks, and he sank to his feet. Whether his body or mind felt worse, he could not say.

"Thank you, prefect. Bring the prisoners to Saint Marcellus," Eleanor instructed the mageknight, who saluted and went away.

Martel closed his eyes. The life of an innocent woman in exchange for an end to this war. A fair trade, some might say. Certainly, a murderer would think so.