Midnight Ride

"I never leave my study unlocked. Show yourself before my guards have to drag you out, and maybe I will be lenient." The duke's voice rang cold.

Trying not to panic, Martel considered his situation. If they began searching, they would find him easily. He could see the rings of light from the lamps they held in their hands. If it came to it, having distance between him and them would be to his advantage. Taking a deep breath, Martel stood up.

"The peasant novice," Duke Cheval exclaimed. "I show you hospitality, and you betrayed my trust? Who sent you to spy on me?"

"None did. I'm sorry," he stammered.

"Nobody finds their way in here by accident," the nobleman sneered. "Tell me at once or my guards will run you through." The sentinels, holding their lamps in one hand, lowered their spears with the other.

No manner of excuses could get Martel out of this situation, he realised, so he changed tactics. Straightening his back, he looked straight at the duke. "I know what you intend to do. I will tell everyone if you try anything. Let me leave, or I will spoil your plans."

Overbearing laughter came in response. "You are in no position to make threats."

Getting angry, the question burst from Martel's lips. "Why do you hate the Khivans so? Why must you destroy them?"

"I hold no particular enmity towards them." The duke stepped forward standing on one side of the desk with Martel on the other. "I just need them to clear my land. I'm not blind to their achievements." In one movement, he grabbed his dagger and lunged forward, aiming to slash the novice across the chest. "Kill him!"

Leaning backwards, Martel avoided the blade and retaliated. With a powerful blast of wind, he knocked all three of his assailants to the ground. Empowering his legs, he made one jump onto the desk and another to clear the fallen body of the duke.

As he sprinted out the door, he heard the guards scrambling to get on their feet and a voice crying out, "Get him!"

With extra speed in his legs, Martel could not be caught. He ran the same way back; there might be closer exits, but he could not afford the risk of getting lost.

Continuing down the servant passageways, Martel saw nobody following him as he glanced over his shoulder. He had put some distance between himself and his pursuers for now, even if no doubt they would comb the mansion in search of him. Still, he ended his spell and felt himself slow down. Pushing down three people in addition to his frenzied escape had drained his spellpower significantly. If a fight was on the horizon, he needed to save some energy for that.

He almost ran into the great hall, barely stopping himself as he came to a halt. People nearest to him looked in his direction, some of them showing displeasure at this breach of etiquette. Composing himself, Martel wove through the crowd towards the exit.

His eyes fell on Maximilian. Perhaps he should not get his friend involved, but if some kind of battle on the streets of Morcaster was underway, he needed the mageknight by his side. Martel began moving in that direction while frantically glancing everywhere to watch for guards.

"Max, I need your help! Please, come with me!" He grabbed the young viscount by the shoulder to turn him around.

"Steady on, where is the fire?"

"I'll explain, just go!" Leaving towards the exit, Martel pulled on Maximilian's sleeve to drag him along. He heard the mageknight grumble while following, though not as quickly as Martel would have liked.

They made it outside, Martel still glancing everywhere; the guards were bound to catch up to him soon. "We need the horses," he told Maximilian. "We have to get out of here."

"What did you do, kiss the duke's wife?"

"He's going to start a riot in the Khivan quarter," Martel replied impatiently. "We have to get there and warn them!"

"Why would he do that?"

"Because he owns half the district, and he wants the Khivans gone so he can build on the land. Now can we leave?"

Maximilian stared at him for a moment before he looked around. Nearby, a carriage with four horses stood, waiting for its owners. "We are borrowing this," he declared, jumping up to push the driver down. As the latter shouted in loud protestations, falling to the ground, Martel climbed up to join his friend on the driver's seat. "Tell your master to use my carriage!" Maximilian called out as he set the horses into motion.

"I don't know who you are!" the driver yelled as the carriage thundered past him.

***

After a neck-breaking ride across Morcaster, the carriage with its two passengers reached the Khivan quarter. Empty streets lay ahead of them, quiet and dark. In the cold gloom of a winter's night, nobody seemed to have course for being outside. Letting the horses slow their gait, Maximilian glanced at his companion. "Not a lot happening at the moment."

"I don't understand. The duke said something would happen tonight." Martel looked around in confusion. If a fight lay ahead of them, deeper into the district, they ought to have heard it by now.

The carriage rumbled on, now at a leisurely pace. "I am a little miffed you made us leave the celebration early," Maximilian admitted, "but stealing a carriage and racing across the city was fun. I suppose the two even out."

Martel did not pay him any attention. He kept going over the conversation with the duke in his mind. Had he misunderstood? Even worse, he had made an enemy of a powerful nobleman. He had also destroyed his chance of obtaining the legal documents that might save Shadi and her father from eviction.

Suddenly, Maximilian grabbed his arm. Ahead, a golden shimmer loomed. As they came around a slight bend in the road, the reason came into view. Further down the street, flames rose into the air.