Page 124 of The Concubine King
“What is this about a conspiracy?”Poyut demanded.
“You were plotting to overthrow the council,” Lyrian said, a light disbelief to his voice, as if saying ‘how can you not know this?’ “To undermine the very seat of our government.”
“I did no such thing,” Poyut hissed.“Everyone knows it’s you doing that!”
“Me?”Lyrian chuckled quietly.“I would never think of it.In fact, I was discussing ways to strengthen the council with Justice Malor.”
“Malor?”Poyut spat.
“Malor?”Ethyr asked, much quieter.
“She agrees the evidence against you is too strong to ignore,” Lyrian continued.
“Oh,” Poyut scoffed.“I see.She’s happy to let you have power as long as she’s rising with you?”
“I didn’t agree to this,” Ethyr spoke up.“You cannot dismiss Poyut without my permission.”
Lyrian raised his eyebrows at him.“It doesn’t matter, she’ll have to stand trial for her transgressions, so we’ll be needing a replacement regardless of your agreement.I warned you, Poyut is too volatile to be in any position of power.”
“I’ll show you volatile,” Poyut growled, stepping forward.
“Guards!”Lyrian called.He stepped aside as five guards came flooding in from the surrounding corridors, drawing their own swords.One blade met Poyut’s, blocking her from Lyrian, and tried to toss it aside.She leaped away before they got the chance, putting her back to the wall and eying the five as they cornered her.
“Poyut!”Ethyr cried.
“Ethyr, go—now!”she barked, bracing the flat of her blade with her palm against the two that came down on her.Instead of obeying, Ethyr flung himself onto the back of the nearest guard.
They hadn’t paid him any more mind than a fly, none of them seeing him as a threat, so they weren’t prepared for a pissed off milksop to latch on to one of them and claw viciously at their face, digging his nails into any and every cavity he could find.
The guard yelled, stumbling backwards, and avoiding his swinging sword took up the others’ attentions.Poyut rushed forward in the opening, disarming one guard and maiming another.The guard Ethyr was on slammed him into a wall, knocking the breath from his lungs.
“Ethyr!”Poyut cried.He braced against the wall and shoved the guard with all his strength, dropping to the ground as the man stumbled forward and, still blind from having his eyes gouged, ran right into Poyut’s sword.She drove it through him, then pushed his body into the guard advancing on her.
She ran to Ethyr, but he was already on his feet, not caring about his throbbing tailbone.He grabbed her hand and sprinted.
Lyrian had dismissed every palace guard, but apparently hadn’t had time or the recruits to fully replace each one, so they were surprisingly sparse and Poyut only had to deal with a guard or two at a time as they fled through the corridors.But they could hear the guards Lyrian sent running after them, the echoes of their sandals on the marble much louder than Poyut’s and his.They were gaining on them.Ethyr had taken them by surprise, but next time they had to face down a group of guards he doubted he’d have a chance to give Poyut an advantage again.
He spotted an open servant door, slightly ajar in the wall, and dragged Poyut to it, scrambling once inside to find the handle and drag it shut.
It had been too long since he’d full-on sprinted, and he could hardly breathe.He would have loved to sink against the wall and catch his breath.But they couldn’t wait around to see if the guards would figure out where they had disappeared to.
“Come on,” he whispered to Poyut, finding her hand and pulling her along.
He didn’t have the paths memorized as he was sure servants did, but he knew well enough which direction led to an exit.He shuffled along, hand against the wall, other clenched tightly in Poyut’s, as he made his way to the back of the palace.
They startled a group of servants retrieving laundry from the clothes lines as they burst out of a door into the laundry room.Two of the four walls weren’t walls at all, but open archways to let in air and light, and the sudden brightness, even from the fading light of dusk, was blinding after the all-encompassing darkness of the walled-in corridor.
“Stay quiet,” Ethyr hissed at the servants as they scrambled to their feet.“You didn’t see us.”
They rushed past the wood basins and washboards, the shelves of soap and filled jars, dodging through the clothing and bedding hung on ropes to dry.
Poyut’s hand snagged against his, jerking him back as she stopped him from running towards the temple.
“We have to get to the stable,” she told him.
“No!You know there are guards that way.And throughout the city.”He tugged her hand in turn.“Please, it’ll be easier to escape this way.”
“We’ll be trapped up there!”
