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第111章

cb.imajica1-第111章

小说: cb.imajica1 字数: 每页4000字

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's shelves tinkled every time the ground shook; which was often。 One of the shopkeepers who'd left in high dudgeon earlier came beating at the door during this siege; and stumbled over the threshold with blood streaming from his head and tales of destruction from his mouth。 The army had called up heavy artillery in the last hour; he reported; and it had practically leveled the harbor and rendered the causeway impassable; thereby effectively sealing the city。 This was all part of the Autarch's plan; he said。 Why else were whole neighborhoods being allowed to burn unchecked? The Autarch was leaving the city to consume its own citizens; knowing the conflagration would not be able to break the palace walls。
 〃He's going to let the mob destroy the city;〃 the man went on; 〃and he doesn't care what happens to us in the meantime。 Selfish bastard! We're all going to burn; and he's not going to lift a finger to help us!〃
 This scenario certainly fitted the facts。 When; at Gentle's suggestion; they went up onto the roof to get a better view of the situation; it seemed to be exactly as described。 The ocean was obliterated by a wall of smoke climbing from the embers of the harbor; further flame…shot columns rose from two dozen neighborhoods; near and far; and through the dirty heat ing off the Oke T'Noon's pyre the causeway was just visible; its rubble damming the delta。 Clogged by smoke; the et shed a diminished light on the city; and even that was fading as the long twilight deepened。
 〃It's time to leave;〃 Gentle told Huzzah。
 〃Where are we going to go?〃
 〃Back to find Pie 'oh' pah;〃 he replied。 〃While we still can。〃
 
 It had been apparent from the roof that there was no safe route back to the mystifs Kesparate。 The various factions warring in the streets were moving unpredictably。 A street that was empty one moment might be thronged the next; and rubble the moment after that。 They would have to go on instinct and a prayer; taking as direct a path back to where they'd left Pie 'oh' pah as circumstance allowed。 Dusk in this Dominion usually lasted the length of an English midwinter day…five or six hours…the tail of the et keeping traces of light in the sky long after its fiery head had dropped beneath the horizon。 But the smoke thickened as Gentle and Huzzah traveled; eclipsing the languid light and plunging the city into a filthy gloom。 There were still the fires to pensate; of course; but between the conflagration; in streets where the lamps hadn't been lit and the citizens had shuttered their windows and blocked their keyholes to keep any sign of occupation from showing; the darkness was almost impenetrable。 In such thoroughfares Gentle hoisted Huzzah onto his shoulders; from which vantage point she was able to snatch sights to steer him by。
 It was slow going; however; halting at each intersection to calculate the least dangerous route to follow; and taking refuge at the approach of both governmental and revolutionary troops。 But for every soldier in this war there were half a dozen bystanders; people daring the tide of battle like beachbers; retreating before each wave; only to return to their watching places when it receded: a sometimes lethal game。 A similar dance was demanded of Gentle and Huzzah。 Driven off course again and again; they were obliged to trust to instinct as to their direction; and inevitably instinct finally deserted them。
 In an unmon hush between clamors and bombardments; Gentle said; 〃Angel? I don't know where we are any more。〃
 A prehensive fusillade had brought down most of the Kesparate around them; and there were precious few places of refuge amid the rubble; but Huzzah insisted they find one: a call of nature that could be delayed no longer。
 Gentle set her down; and she headed off for the dubious cover of a semidemolished house some yards up the street。 He stood guard at the door; calling inside to her and telling her not to venture too far。 He'd no sooner offered this warning than the appearance of a small band of armed men drove him back into the shadows of the doorway。 But for their weapons; which had presumably been plucked from dead men; they looked ill suited to the role of revolutionaries。 The eldest; a barrel of a man in late middle age; still wore the hat and tie he'd most likely gone to work in that morning; while two of his acplices were barely older than Huzzah。 Of the two remaining members; one was an Oethac woman; the other of the tribe to which the executioner in Vanaeph had belonged: a Nullianac; its head like hands joined in prayer。
 Gentle glanced back into the darkness; hoping to hush Huzzah before she emerged; but there was no sign of her。 He left the step and headed into the ruins。 The floor was sticky underfoot; though he couldn't see with what。 He did see Huzzah; however; or her silhouette; as she rose from relieving herself。 She saw him too and made a little noise of protest; which he hushed as loudly as he dared。 A fresh bombardment close by brought shock waves and bursts of light; by which he glimpsed their refuge: a domestic interior; with a table set for the evening meal; and its cook dead beneath it; her blood the stickiness under his heel。
 Beckoning Huzzah to him and holding her tight; he ventured back towards the door as a second bombardment began。 It drove the looters to the step for cover; and the Oethac caught sight of Gentle before he could retreat into shadow。 She let out a shout; and one of the youths fired into the darkness where Gentle and Huzzah had stood; the bullets spattering plaster and wood splinters in all directions。 Backing away from the door through which their attackers were bound to e; Gentle ushered Huzzah into the darkest corner and drew a breath。 He barely had time to do so before the trigger…happy youth was at the doorway; firing indiscriminately。 Gentle unleashed a pneuma from the darkness; and it flew towards the door。 He'd underestimated his strength。 The gunman was obliterated in an instant; but the pneuma took the door frame and much of the wall to either side of it at the same time。
 Before the dust could clear and the survivors e after them; he went to find Huzzah; but the wall against which she'd been crouching was cracked and curling like a stone wave。 He yelled her name as it broke。 Her shriek answered him; off to his left。 The Nullianac had snatched her up; and for a terrifying instant Gentle thought it intended to annihilate her; but instead it drew her to it like a doll and disappeared into the dust clouds。
 He started in pursuit without a backward glance; an error that brought him to his knees before he'd covered two yards of ground; as the Oethac woman delivered a stabbing blow to the small of his back。 The wound wasn't deep; but the shock drove his breath from him as he fell; and her second blow would have taken out the back of his skull had he not rolled out of its way。 The small pick she was wielding; wet with his blood; buried itself in the ground; and before she could pull it free he hauled himself to his feet and started after Huzzah and her abductor。 The second youth was moving after the Nullianac; squealing with drugged or drunken glee; and Gentle followed the sound when he lost the sight; the chase taking him out of the wasteland and into a Kesparate that had been left relatively untouched by the conflict。
 There was good reason。 The trade here was in sexual favors; and business was booming。 Though the streets were narrower than in any other district Gentle had passed through; there was plenty of light spilling from the doorways and windows; the lamps and candles arranged to best illuminate the wares lolling on step and sill。 Even a passing glance confirmed that there were anatomies and gratifications on offer here that beggared the most dissolute backwaters of Bangkok or Tangiers。 Nor was there any paucity of customers。 The imminence of death seemed to have whipped up the consensual libido。 Even if the flesh pushers and pill pimps who offered their highs as Gentle passed never made it to morning; they'd die rich。 Needless to say; the sight of a Nullianac carrying a protesting child barely warranted a look in a street sacred to depravity; and Gentle's calls for the abductor to be stopped went ignored。

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