As Sylia jumped out of the window and made contact with the river below, his heart seemed to stop, and his hands were paralyzed due to the cold. Nevertheless, as he felt his nephew beside him, one hand after another, he swam up to the surface. With his nephew tied firmly to his back, it took him a count of thirty-three to swim up to the surface and meet the fast-boat that was waiting for him. As soon as he got on the boat, he told the captain, “Get to the Athenian docks and get me some fire and something to dry the prince”

In his shiny red wet clothes, the prince was as cold as frost. The enemy was closing in with boats of their own. As his boat was attacked by arrows and slings from men aboard the enemy vessels, the captain sighed in relief when the projectiles harmlessly missed the boat. Still, he was confident his boat and crew were much faster than his pursuers. They were, after all, some of the finest sailors of the third division handpicked by the general himself. But then the projectiles started coming closer and closer. He looked at Sylia who was changing the prince’s beautiful wet clothes to the rag that had potatoes in it this morning - trying to revive the prince whose life seemed forfeit.

Then captain started beating the drums and yelled to his rowers:

“Row you bastards! The enemy is gaining! They will flog you and eat you if they catch you. They will rape you if you’re pretty too! Row!”

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In the middle of the captain’s yelling and the pounding of drums, there was a baby’s cough – and the prince started breathing again beside the heat of the lamp. Then the prince cried as loud as he could. His screams filled the cold winter air and overwhelmed any other sound. The rowers felt heat their hearts as if it was on fire and started sweating. They felt a surge of energy and ten rowers rowed with the power of a hundred. Sylia himself felt something within him – something like a fire in his belly – something that kept him going.

After 3 hours of constant rowing, Sylia had reached the other shore where men were stationed in case of just such an emergency. Thirty armed men were waiting at the dock.

Alarmed by the fire in the distance from the queen’s residence, the camp alarm had already sounded. A contingent of soldiers had come to the docks expecting Sylia.

As soon as the boat docked, Sylia jumped out with the prince and yelled:

“Strategus, bring me Strategus!”

In the dark, a large man came forward and said:

“I’m here brother. What happened?”

With no further words, he handed his nephew to Strategus. The next moment, Sylia fell to the ground.

---Preview of Next Chapter---

Sylia has survived, barely, but managed to bring the prince to safety but is the third division’s camp truly safe? Pieces are moving across the world of Gaia and danger lurks everywhere. Discover more on From Fire and Blood Chapter 4: Attack on the Camp