“Kill them.” Father commanded.

He was leaning in, his face so close to Soter’s that their noses almost touched.

“Kill them.” Father shouted.

So Soter took the knife that his father was offering and stabbed that traitorous swineherd of a senator through the middle of his hand.

Soter felt a sharp pain suddenly strike the middle of his palm. His whole arm began to ache. But the senator didn’t even notice that he was under attack, so Soter stabbed again, this time at the jaw. With a sickening crack, the senator’s head swayed to the side under the force of the blow and he crashed to the floor.

Then Soter stabbed him in the cheek, and with another crack the blade slid into the old senator’s head. Soter felt two blows to the side of his head, and his cheek and jaw erupted in pain. His whole face began to throb in pain and it spread down his neck and through his body until his entire body was hurting.

He lashed out at the senator, stabbing him once in each eye.

He turned to his father.

“Kill them!” he chanted.

Soter turned back to the senator to deliver the final blow, but he found that it was actually Isaura, weeping red tears.

He screamed and opened his eyes and suddenly all he could see was the face of Mitero looking down on him in concern.

“Keep still.” Mitero said, “Having bad dreams?”

“Y-yes”

Another face moved into sight and looked down at Soter. A tanned, middle-aged man with bristly eyebrows and a stern expression.

“As the man says. Don’t move.” The stern man said.

He reached out of sight and rattled through some collection of metal instruments. Soter flinched reflexively, a memory of a soldier’s steel gauntlet flashing before his eyes.

“Keep still.” The man said.

“Don’t worry” Said Mitero, “He’s a physician. You got hit around pretty bad.”

“I-“ Soter began.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Said Mitero.

The physician nudged Mitero and they walked into another room. Soter heard the wooden door creak closed, but he could still make out their muffled words.

“There’s severe swelling. This isn’t going to be easy. I’ll need to put him back to sleep.”

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“If you say so.”

The door creaked back open and their footsteps approached.

Mitero’s face hovered into view.

“The physician says you will need to be put back to sleep to recover.” He said.

“No. I don’t want to dream anymore.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Anaesthesium never induces a dream state.” Said the physician.

Tears welled in Soter’s eyes as he remembered all that had come to pass. He realised that his hope that it had all been a bad dream was now shattered. Now he was alone, truly alone. He had once thought himself alone, stuck in some room of the palace with his father busy administering the realm. Now he would give everything if he could just wake up and go back to that life.

The physician put a bag of herbs in his mouth. Soter quickly found his eyes becoming unfocussed and his mind wandering until it all went blank.

--

When Soter woke, the pain was gone. His muscles ached from sheer weariness but it was far better than the pain had been. Mitero was sitting by the fireplace warming his hands, with his sheathed sword lying on the floor next to him.

“Good… ah… morning?” said Soter.

“Afternoon. And how are you?” said Mitero.

“I’m feeling better. Much better. Thanks.”

“Yes… well, you’re lucky I found you. It was stupid to run off like that. Stupid, you hear? A warrior doesn’t give in to anger. He doesn’t endanger his life, or that of his dynasty. Your father was a great warrior, but he never set foot upon the battlefield. He would sit in his tent, in safety, and draw maps and write analyses. And he always won. He conquered the world, boy. The greatest warrior ever known.”

“Well he was a coward. And you didn’t know him – he did give in to anger…”

“Don’t speak of the dead that way. And stop talking nonsense. Never mind what happened. We need to get you out of the city. Those soldiers haven’t stopped looking for you. By night they scour the streets and by day they check everyone who passes out of the gates.”

“H-how long was I out for?”

“Oh a few days. So be ready by midnight, that’s when we go through the gates.”

“Won’t they find us on the streets at night?”

“Not if we’re quick. And quiet.”

--

They slipped through the streets under the cover of darkness. Soter could see the sky was vacant of any moon. He never left the side of Mitero, who pricked his ear up at every sound like a hunting wolf and never allowed his right hand to let go of the pommel of his sheathed sword.

Soter knew the moment they had reached the gate, because it was bathed in a flickering orange from torchlight. There was the long shadow of a single man standing guard.

“I don’t have a sword.” Soter whispered.

“You won’t be needing one. Stay quiet and follow me.”

Mitero walked plainly over to the guard. Soter nervously followed.

The guard drew his sword halfway out of his scabbard, flashing the polished steel blade menacingly.

“Halt!” the guard said, “Who goes there?”

Mitero tossed a small bag and the guard caught it in one hand with a clink. He sheathed his weapon and stood aside, fingering the bag open to check that he had been paid the correct amount. When he was satisfied he stuffed it into his pocket.

“Wait here.”

The guard walked over to the flight of stairs which led to the gatehouse. The gate soon ponderously ground open.

It stopped at only a fraction of the way.

“Go” said Mitero.

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay.”

“No, no I need you. What the hell am I supposed to do on my own out here?”

“Stay alive. Go south and find your aunt the queen. The road will not be hard.”

“How the hell do I get there?”

“Follow the South Road until you find a village. Buy a horse and a guide. A weapon too, if you can.”

“I-I’ve never been outside the city…”

“Go.”

Soter ducked under the iron gate and it slammed back down behind him. Mitero reached through it and tossed a coin bag at Soter. He fumbled but caught it between his hand and stomach.

“Goodbye.” He called to Mitero.

“Goodbye Soter. God be with you always.”