The Bow of Heaven - Book I: The Other Al - By Andrew Levkoff Page 0,61
landing below. I was moved urgently and instantaneously by the overwhelming instinct to get away from that searing heat. Crassus was dazed and struggling to his feet as I landed hard, tripping and falling onto him. We tumbled down to the ground floor, rolling over burning wreckage.
Miraculously, neither of us was badly hurt. My arm had smacked into a piece of burning wood and my sandaled feet would take some time to heal, but nothing seemed broken. Crassus’ cloak was smoldering. I unhooked the jewel-studded fibula that held it around his neck and tore it off him. The second it landed on the ground in a smoking heap, I dove for it again, ripped the clasp from the smoldering fabric, rose and handed the golden disk to Crassus. He looked at me in amazement and laughed out loud.
“Did you hear that?” I shouted.
The sound came from our right. “Anyone there?!” we called.
A thin voice answered, “In here.” It came from a barbershop whose entrance opened on the lobby where we stood. We moved quickly into the shop and I saw that Crassus was limping. The store was empty. The voice called again and we could tell that it came from above us. A wooden ladder led to the loft found in almost all these small shops.
Crassus grabbed a rung but I said, “Dominus, allow me.” I indicated his injured leg. He stepped aside and I climbed up through the trap door in the ceiling. In the smoky dark I could barely make out the narrow, cramped sleeping quarters of the old man who lay shaking on a pallet in the corner.
“You’re safe now,” I said. With Crassus helping from below, we managed to get him down the ladder. He was barely conscious. Once back on the shop floor, Crassus steadied the frail barber while I bent to pick him up and heave him over my shoulder. I staggered only a little.
We left the store, crossed the lobby and headed back down the vestibule. Smoke clinging to the ceiling was being sucked out into the cool night air. Ten paces before we reached the exit and safety, Crassus tapped me on the shoulder and held out his arms. I realized what he had in mind and carefully helped resettle the wisp of a barber over Crassus’ own shoulder.
I followed Crassus out of the building, noting that the limp in Crassus’ left leg seemed markedly more pronounced than it had only a moment before. Of course, it could have been the extra weight.
A huge shout went up from the crowd as we crossed to the other side of the street. The loudest cheers came from Crassus’ own household. He gently set the old man down, who instantly reanimated and threw his arms around his savior, sobbing his thanks. Another huzzah. Crassus extricated himself, wished the barber well and left him to the care of the happy and grateful onlookers.
Ludovicus barged through the crowd and pulled up short in front of us. He looked at Crassus with shining eyes and trembling chin. He could hardly show his relief by throwing his arms around his master, but had no such compunctions with me. The massive, muscular battalion commander gripped me in a bear hug and told me I stank. I swear he wiped a tear away on my sooty shoulder before releasing me.
Crassus put his hand on that same spot. He looked me in the eyes, nodded ever so slightly and gave my shoulder a brisk squeeze and shake. That was all. That was enough.
Then he returned to business.
“Fortuna has smiled upon us this time,” Crassus said to an even more disassembled Corvinus. If possible, he looked worse even than we. Crassus continued, “I shall make an offering to Pluto for sparing these good citizens. I suggest you do the same.”
“Yes, certainly,” agreed Corvinus. “Uh ... but ... what about my building?”
“Well, it’s a corner building, that’s something anyway. Ludovicus, what are you waiting for?!” Crassus shouted in false anger. At last, Ludovicus gave the signal to swing both streams of water directly onto the burning building. As we knew it would, after only a moment, the top two floors caved in and a fireball veined with debris, steam and dust rose into the night sky. Another collective gasp came from the crowd.
Corvinus sagged. “Sixty-five thousand?” he begged.
Crassus shook his head. “Fifty.”
Corvinus whimpered like a struck puppy. “Done,” he said, defeated. I clambered up onto the pump cart, retrieved one of the three heavy