‘You can’t stay here, highness. They will be searching for you.’
‘Exactly so. But I really don’t think they will expect to find me in a hovel.’ Ammon rose from his chair and approached the potter, laying his slender hands on the man’s shoulders. ‘You are a very lucky man, Sadau. You tossed my brother’s head into the Luan and you did not die for it. Now you have an opportunity to earn the king’s gratitude. Once I have escaped and gathered my army, I shall smite these invaders and re-take my kingdom. Then you will be well rewarded.’
‘I don’t want to be rewarded. I want to be alivel’
‘A noble aim, potter. But let us concentrate on one thing at a time. And the first priority is food. Fetch some.’
Sadau stumbled into his small kitchen, returning with a fresh-baked loaf and a plate of raisins. ‘I have no milk for the child,’ he said.
‘Borrow some from your neighbours. But be quick, for there are beasts abroad.’
Sadau was in a daze as he unlocked the door and stepped out into the sunset. All was quiet now and he felt like running away, sprinting to some darkened place where he could lie down, close his eyes, and pray that he would wake and find this was all merely some fevered dream. Suddenly he heard screams in the distance and a terrible howling. The little man ran to the home of his cousin, Oris. The small house was dark, the shutters closed. Sadau tapped on the door. ‘It is me, Sadau,’ he called.
Inside there were no lanterns lit. Oris was not at home and his wife Rula was sitting in the dark, her two small children beside her, her babe in her lap. ‘Are we all going to die?’ she asked, her voice breaking. She was a mousy woman, round-shouldered and perpetually weary. As indeed anyone would be who had to live with Oris. The big riverman was a noisy, boisterous man, who treated his friends like loved ones, and his loved ones like servants. Rula had been worn down by his infidelities and his endless lies.
‘No, we are not going to die,’ said Sadau. ‘Where is Oris?’
‘He did not come home. He left this morning to work at the river. What am I going to do, Sadau? What will happen to my babes if he’s dead?’
Her distress touched him, cutting through both his fear and his dislike of her. ‘Come to my home,’ he said. ‘We will wait for Oris there. I am sure he is not dead.’ Probably hiding in the home of some whore, he thought. Carrying one of the children and leading the other by the hand he led them back to his home. Rula seemed less frightened now, but the children were unusually quiet.
As they entered the house Rula stiffened. ‘You have friends here,’ she said. ‘Perhaps I should wait at home.’
‘It is all right,’ Sadau assured her. ‘They are customers of mine.’ Locking the door he put down the child he was carrying. She sat upon the floor and began to cry. Ammon approached her, kneeling down beside her.
‘Don’t cry, little one,’ he said. ‘It is just a game. Tell me your name.’
‘Saris,’ said the child. ‘My daddy owns the river.’
‘What a coincidence,’ said Ammon. ‘My daddy owned the river too.’ The small room was crowded now. The toddler carried by Anwar began to wail.
‘He’s hungry,’ said Ammon, glancing up at Rula. ‘Do you think you could feed him?’
She nodded and, passing her own sleeping babe to Sadau, moved to the toddler, lifting him to her lap and opening her dress to expose a large breast. Instantly the toddler began to suckle greedily.
A silent hour passed. Then there came a knock at the door. Sadau almost fainted with the shock. ‘Who is it?’ he called.
‘Oris. Is Rula with you?’
Sadau opened the door and a heavy-set young man entered. Rula ran to him, hugging him close. ‘I was so worried,’ she said.
‘You and me both,’ he confided. ‘It’s terrible out there. Corpses everywhere. It’s quiet now. They say the king is dead, and all the nobles either fled or slain. When the attack started I thought they were Avatars. But they’re not. They’re red-skinned. The palace is a ruin.’