Chapter VII

Yashen the Dream Merchant always felt terrible for the attractive gladiators. Sure, she felt bad for all of the slaves, especially those forced to fight in underground pits, but none so much as the pretty ones. Whereas the uglier or fatter gladiators were always clad in full armor, the attractive men and women in the pits were made to wear very little. The men made to expose their muscular chests, the women nearly naked, and only covering the essentials.

While the crowd cheered in that underground amphitheater surrounding the fighting pit, all that Yashen could do was worry for Kezib. He nimbly ducked and dodged around his enemies' weapons, but he was at an obvious disadvantage.

Clad in only a leather loin-cloth and wielding a curved sword in each hand he danced around the pit, slashing his enemies. His blades rarely cut through their armor, but he did not have time to make a second strike, for he immediately had to jump back out of the way as a flail, a trident, or a sword came his way. Kezib's long, blonde hair whipped around in wavy locks as he rolled out of the way of a net thrown at him. The trident-wielding gladiator, who'd thrown the net, lunged at Kezib and thrust his trident forward. Kezib locked his own two blades together so that they were like a pair of shears, caught the middle prong of the trident between the blades, and twisted the trident to one side as hard as he could. The man wielding the trident fell with his weapon. The middle prong snapped off.

But Kezib had no time to celebrate this small victory. Another gladiator's flail came flying at his head. Kezib ducked just in time. The flail passed through his hair. With frightening precision, and even more alarming speed, Kezib pierced the gladiator's armor over and over in every small cut he'd made in that armor before. A left stab. A right stab. A left. A right. Kezib's motions were a blur as he disemboweled his opponent in that steel case.

Before that gladiator had even fallen, the gladiator with the sword and shield was upon Kezib. Kezib deflected the gladiator's sword with the flat edge of his blade and brought his other blade around to stab at his opponent's side. His opponent deflected his blade with his shield, and then hit Kezib in the chest with the flat of the shield. Kezib fell back, the wind knocked out of him. His opponent gave him no time to breathe. He flew at Kezib, shield first. Thankfully for Kezib this provided a blind-spot. He dodged around his opponent's left-side and slashed his calf. His opponent's armor kept the blade from his skin, but Kezib had severed the leather strap that held the leg-guard in place. This would not protect his calf a second time.

The gladiator with the now-two-pronged trident had long since risen to his feet again and rushed Kezib from behind. Kezib locked his swords together like shears once more, caught the long haft of the trident between the blades, and re-directed the gladiator straight into the one with the sword and shield. The trident slipped past the shield and pierced the unfortunate gladiator in the gut. As the last opponent left standing struggled to pull his weapon from his allies' body, Kezib came up behind him and, with his two curved blades locked, sliced off his head.

The surrounding crowd roared with applause, and money exchanged hands. Those who'd lost the bet cursed and spat at Kezib, though he was well-past their range. Kezib bowed to his audience, with somewhat of a hint of sarcasm in his posture, and handed over his blades as the guards came to take him back to his cell.

Once Kezib was gone, Yashen approached the pit-master, who shook his head when he saw her. “Dream Merchant...shouldn't you be in your shop?”

“I've made more money today than usual,” said Yashen. “As such, I want to spend some of it to have a night of pleasure with one of the gladiators.”

The pit-master chuckled. “Let me guess, Kezib?”

“How ever did you know?” asked Yashen, rolling her eyes.

“Sometimes I think the boy would make more money as a whore than as a fighter,” said the pit-master.

“Well, he's a beautiful man,” said Yashen. “How much for some time alone with Kezib?”

“Twenty denarius. Forty, if you want me to keep quiet about it.” The pit-master leaned in and whispered. “Can't imagine the Vice Queen will be too happy to hear you've spent her gold.”

“Twenty denarius and a free dream,” said Yashen. “That should buy your silence.”

“A dream?”

Yashen nodded and produced a small vial from her pocket. “Drink this before you go to bed tonight and you will dream that you are the new Arxian Emperor. All the world will bow to you, and you'll be so rich that you can do whatever you want to whomever you want. It will only be a few hours, but it will feel like weeks have gone by, and all the while you'll have all the power, money, and women you could ever desire.”

The pit-master smiled and greedily took both the money and the vial. “I won't tell a soul. Have fun in there.”

Yashen entered Kezib's cell, where he was practicing attacking a dummy with two wooden versions of the curved blades he'd used in the pit. He stopped as soon as Yashen entered the room. “Need something?” He asked, his voice sounding far too gruff for one with so soft a face.

Yashen double-checked to make sure that the door had closed behind her. Once she was sure that they were safe she rolled up her sleeve to reveal the markings on her arm. Kezib gasped and stepped back, recognizing the symbols from when he was a boy.

“You've become a witch-hunter?” Kezib asked.

“No. The new Grand Inquisitor,” said Yashen, to a grunt of disbelief. “I need you to spread the word to those we can trust. Everyone from our village back in Kolob needs to know that Sandalphon has not forsaken us. He has chosen me to rebuild what was lost. Those who've been forced to fight in the pits must be the first to know, for they will likely be the new witch-hunters for the new Inquisition. The followers of the True Way will be free.”

“I'm not sure which ones I can trust,” said Kezib. “You'd be surprised how badly some of the slaves around here will betray each other for the smallest of boons. One extra loaf of bread...one extra bowl of soup...one slave flayed alive...”

“That's why you'll start with those from our hometown,” said Yashen. “After that, find slaves who follow the True Way, or ones with names that indicate that they are from Kolob. I know you can do this, Kezib!”

“If you can conjure angels why not just do that now?” asked Kezib. “Call in an army, set the gladiators free. If they can get a hold of weapons they'll kill all of the Vice Queen's thugs and set us all free now!”

“And there will be blood in the streets,” said Yashen. “A lot of the Vice Queen's slaves used to be criminals or prisoners, remember? You don't set free one-hundred rapists and murderers in the middle of a city. At least not without a plan to deal with them. We need to be more careful than that. Besides, I can't conjure an entire army of angels, just two or three.”

Kezib laughed. “You can only conjure three nigh-invincible holy creatures to fight for you? Oh, then that's just useless, isn't it?” Yashen looked like she was about to argue with him some more, so Kezib interrupted, “No...it's fine. I see your point. I'll spread the word. With any luck I'll stay alive long enough for our revolution to take fruition.”

“It's not luck, Kezib. It's providence.”

“Forgive me, but I have my doubts.”

“Purge yourself of them. Doubt is a sin, remember?”

“If Sandalphon didn't want us to doubt he should have acted a long time ago. Frankly, I think it's he who will need to regain our trust, not the other way around, and I know many slaves who feel the same way.”

Yashen wanted to argue with Kezib. Truly, such words were harsh, and bordered on blasphemy when speaking of the archangel who had led and taught their people for centuries. The problem was that for the life of her she couldn't think of anything to say to argue against Kezib's harsh words. She'd held onto her faith the whole time she'd been a slave, but that was because she'd maintained blind faith and simply ignored all of the reasons to stop believing. Now that she was faced with doubt she didn't know how to overcome it. Except to say to herself that doubt was a sin and dismiss it.

Had she not been so lost in thought about all of this on her way home, she might have noticed the Vice Queen's thugs hanging around outside her shop, each trying to look inconspicuous. She took her key from her pocket and unlocked the front door, sighing as she swung the door open. The second she stepped one foot inside, however, all three of the thugs flooded into her home, dragged her further inside, and slammed the door behind them.

Two of them held her fast by her arms and the third one, ugliest of the three, stood before her with his arms folded. “Where have you been all day?”

“Shopping for more ingredients,” said Yashen. “I can't brew dreams without-”

“Where are these ingredients? If you were shopping why aren't you carrying any?” the ugly one asked.

Yashen trembled, already fearing where this conversation was going. “I...I couldn't find what I needed. I'll have to resume the search again later.”

“So we can add lying to skipping work as your crimes for today,” he said. He shook his head at her. “We have people all over this city keeping an eye on our slaves. It's more than just us three what watch you. Did you think no one would see that you snuck off to the fighting pits?” His expression turned from anger to a perverse excitement. “You know, the money you make as the Dream Merchant is the reason why the Vice Queen doesn't have you working as a whore right now. Pretty thing like you would make a fortune for her in the brothels. It's my job to remind you what's at stake if you don't do your job. Take off her dress, boys, and hold her down.” He started to undo his belt, a sickening anticipation in his eyes.

Yashen struggled, but she couldn't overpower the two men who had a hold on her. There was no point in yelling for help, anyone who heard wouldn't care. Yashen fought and struggled, but the two men held her fast, and then ripped her dress in two, right down the middle. The ugliest of the three men looked upon her with hungry eyes, and horror washed over her.

That was, until she remembered the mark upon her arm. Yashen stopped struggling and calmed herself. She steadied her breathing as the man, now without his trousers, approached her. She tightened her right hand into a fist, closed her eyes, and meditated on the symbols tattooed to her arm. She thought about every line, every curve, every edge, and put faith in what the symbols meant.

Just as the leader of these three drew close to her and the other two forced her to bend over the table for him, diamond dust gathered in the air behind the leader. Yashen gave the leader a knowing smirk over her shoulder, which perplexed him for a moment. Just for a moment, for after that the angel that had appeared behind him grabbed him by the head and snapped his neck with a twist.

The other two let go of Yashen. One of the two ran for the door, but the angel swung out one of it's crystal wings and the blade-like feathers sliced him in two. The last remaining thug fled to the opposite wall and tried to get the window open. The window wasn't truly big enough for him to climb out, but he was desperate. Yashen grabbed the dagger from the belt of their fallen leader, drew it from its sheathe, and ran the blade into the last thug's back. As he fell, she stabbed him over and over to make sure he would not get up again.

With the three thugs dead and the seven-foot angel towering over the scene, Yashen sat on her knees in silence for a few minutes, just staring. First, she felt relief at the rescue. She'd been rescued from a most horrible fate, and even had a hand in that rescue herself. Those men had threatened her, bullied her, and abused her for years. Now they were dead. There was a calming satisfaction to that.

Then it hit her; people would notice that these men had gone missing. More of the Vice Queen's thugs would come looking for them, and would surely find the bodies. She couldn't simply hide the bodies anywhere either, for if she left her house with them she'd surely be spotted. At the same time, she could not simply wait this out. She'd be caught no matter what she did.

Unless she left Nox for good. She'd thought of running away before. Every time something between overwhelming dread and common sense prevented her escape. She'd seen slaves who'd tried to escape skinned, eaten by vicious dogs, hanged, impaled, beaten to death, and so many other horrible fates. Every time she looked at the open city gates during the day and thought of freedom her mind went immediately back to the executions she'd witnessed. That all slaves had witnessed since they were children.

But this time was different, she felt, as she looked up at her angelic guardian. She'd only called one when the thugs had attacked her, but with a little more assistance she could make it out of the city gates. Yes, hope filled her as she watched the starlight from outside shining on and through the angel's body.

“Will you help me escape?” she asked.

The angel merely nodded.

“I may need more than just you protecting me, but thank you,” she said. The angel broke apart into diamond-dust again, but he did not leave. The dust encircled Yashen and drifted around her like a cloud caught in the wind. Yashen reached out her hand and touched the sparkling dust, marveling at how beautiful it looked. Like she was holding tiny stars.

After that, Yashen hurried to get as much packed into a traveling bag as she could. All of the food she could carry, a few changes of clothes, the dagger she'd used to kill the thug, her alchemy supplies, and as many of the ingredients as she could carry. They would surely prove useful soon enough.

Once she was done gathering all of her things, Yashen poured out her lamp oil on the ground, threw the wood from her fireplace on the floor, and tore the straw from out of her mattress. There was no turning back now, and she needed to make sure she had no illusions that returning to this place was even an option.

She lit a lantern with the few drops of lamp oil she'd spared, opened the front door, stepped outside, and threw the lantern into her house. The glass broke, and the fire caught the lamp oil. In seconds the whole house was on fire, a beautiful blaze which would serve as a distraction for her escape.

With the fire raging behind her and the people of Nox panicking at the sight of the fire, Yashen ducked down a back alleyway on her way towards the main gate. All the while the angel followed her in the form of crystal dust. She ran from one alley to the next, all the while keeping her distance from the main road, but navigating the city by memory. As she passed by openings between the houses, she could see men and women running towards the burning house with buckets full of water and sand. Good. They were distracted. Yashen picked up speed, knowing she was not far from the gate now.

That was when she heard a loud whistling sound past her head and saw a crossbow bolt strike the wall in front of her. She yelped, and jerked around to see one of the Vice Queen's thugs approaching her with a crossbow in hand. He cursed at having missed. It would take forever to load a second shot, so he put away his crossbow, drew his sword, and ran at her. The dust that had been following her the whole time flew at the approaching thug and solidified as the body of the angel directly in front of him. The thug jumped back, but not soon enough to avoid the angel's reach. The angel seized him by the throat, lifted him off of the ground, and smashed his body against the wall nearby.

Yashen breathed a sigh of relief, but her relief was only momentary. Another thug came up behind her and seized her by her wrist. With her free hand she drew the dagger from its sheath and jabbed the blade into his thigh. The distraction was just long enough for the angel to leap in, seize the thug by his head with both hands, and then crush his head between its palms. Yashen was no stranger to violence, she'd watched the gladiators fight from time to time, but even she had to wretch at the hideous sight.

The angel stared at her with his glowing, green eyes, as if waiting for her to do something. She wiped her mouth and said “Oh...right...yeah, running,” and took off again with the dust following after her.

The last street. The main gate was in sight. Next to the main gate were two smaller doors, which were always open for merchants arriving late at night. These doors, however, were guarded. The guards were Arxian soldiers, but Yashen knew that they were in the Vice Queen's pocket. They'd arrest any slave who attempted to slip out the doors. Then again, most slaves didn't have angelic protection.

But the Arxian guards weren't the only problem. Several of the Vice Queen's thugs also patrolled that street. Yashen wasn't concerned about whether or not her angelic protector could win a fight with them, but he didn't have to lose for her to get killed. The sheer number of thugs walking that street, each pretending just to be engaged in late night drunken revelry, made her worry. She was starting to wish she'd set free the gladiators right away, then she'd have all the help she'd need to escape.

“Hey!” said a voice to Yashen's left, and a large, calloused hand fell on her shoulder.

“Gyaaah!” Yashen's heart leaped into her throat and she thrust blindly at the man who'd touched her. Only with her dagger in his chest and his blood on her hands did she finally get a look at who had approached her. He was an old man, too old to be one of the Vice Queen's thugs, and certainly far too scrawny. He looked at her with a sad confusion in his eyes. Yashen would never forget that look, or how ferocious her own face had looked reflected in his eyes. She'd never forget the feeling of innocent blood on her hands. The sound of his death rattle just before his body hit the ground would haunt her dreams, uninhibited by her craft.

The angel touched her shoulder, and when he had her attention he pointed at the main gate. “What....oh, yes...I know...but it's far too dangerous!” The angel stared at her, those glowing green eyes piercing deep into her mind. “I can't...they'll kill me...” Again, the angel merely stared at her and tilted his head, as if expecting her to change her mind any moment now. “I'm afraid!” she said.

“Fear is sin,” said the angel in a deep, reverberating voice. “Have faith.”

“Right...” Yashen turned her attention back to the doors by the main gate. She bent her knees slightly and prepared to run for it. “Right. Fear is sin. Doubt is sin. I am not a sinner! Have faith. I have no reason to fear. I will not let this sin overtake me! I am stronger than this temptation! Even should I fail and die my soul will see paradise! I am not afraid! I am not afraid! I am not afraid!”

Yashen took off at a full run at the main gate, the cloud of dust again surrounding her. The thugs saw her running and reached for their crossbows. The guards at the gate saw her and held out their spears for her approach.

Yashen's feet pounded the ground. She felt sure her sandals would tear. Her pulse beat in her temples. Her body shook with each step. And the thugs had their crossbows loaded.

Dust filled the air all around her. She was running almost blind, but she remembered her direction. Even through the dust she could barely make out the glint on the edge of the guard's spear. Directly in her path. Yet, some hidden stores of strength within her opened up, and she felt herself thrown forward with a force from within her chest. No fear. Though she knew there should be.

The dust scattered out from her and now three angels appeared, including the first one. Two fell upon the thugs. The thugs' bolts filled the air. Again, Yashen heard that whistle as bolts zipped past her. She could feel the cut of the wind around her. And yet not a single bolt struck her body. The second angel lunged at the Arxian guard, who dropped his spear and fled in fright. The Arxian guard on the other door did the same. The angel pursued them, but only slowly. Soon the Arxian guards were far from sight.

Yashen threw her hands over the handle of the front door and yanked it towards her. The wooden door swung open to reveal the open night outside those walls. The stars glimmered from horizon to horizon. The land out before her was not obscured by walls, but open ground. The sky was clear, and there were no more tall buildings to hide it. The ground under her feet evolved from marble, to dirt, to grass, to tall grass as she fled the city. Soon enough, she was lost to the darkness of the night, finally free from the city of Nox for the first time in ten years.