Dark Empress Read Free Page A

free. She began to laugh wildly as she rounded the last corner to see the pole with the red rag that marked the end of the race.
    And her face fell. Ghassan grinned back at her where he stood casually, holding the rag and leaning against the wall in the cool shade.
    How had he done that? She racked her brains to try and work out where he had gone. How had he taken a short cut? It was theoretically a cheat, but there could have been no quicker way to get back up to the roof if he had fallen than the route they had both taken.
“How?” she demanded.
Ghassan’s smile, all the more genuine for its rarity, held her for a moment as he bowed and proffered the red rag to her.
“I would turn the world upside down to see your face from this angle, Asima.”
She blinked for a moment and then smiled as Ghassan burst out laughing.
“You should have seen your face when you turned the corner and found me!” he howled.
She shook her head as Samir arrived and patted her on the back.
“No, I don’t know how he does it either. It’s that brain of his.”
    The three children collapsed to the floor in the shade and scanned the rooftops at this, one of the highest places in M’Dahz. The Pelasian bell tower was just visible around the edge of the building, as were various turrets and high rooftops, but the main obstruction on the skyline here was the Palace Compound and it was the looming and intriguing walls of that forbidden complex that captured the gaze of the three runners.
    “One day.”
    Both Asima and Ghassan turned to look at their companion. Samir shrugged.
    “We’ve been almost everywhere there is to go above the town, but we’ve never set foot in the compound. Before the summer’s out, I want to walk on the governor’s roof.”
    Asima and Ghassan nodded sagely, each privately considering the almost negligible chances of that ever happening. But there was something in Samir’s eye that afternoon in the high places of M’Dahz; something that made Asima certain that nothing in the world of human endeavour was beyond Samir’s reach if he put his mind to it.
    Nothing.
     
    In which changes occur
     
    A year had passed. The rooftop chases had tailed off in the late wintertime, though not due to the conditions. After all, in M’Dahz the deepest winter was almost indistinguishable from high summer to all but the natives. No, somehow the thrill had gone without them ever having set foot on the governor’s roof as Samir had vowed. Oh, they still ran occasionally; perhaps once a month now, and it was always Samir who set the routes these days, but when the joy of the rooftops had palled a little, the three had sought out new thrills. Games had come and gone as the seasons turned, and had culminated in this, their latest test of nerves.
    The port district of M’Dahz was a maze of warehouses, offices, palisaded yards, harbours, dry docks, houses and taverns. Every open space seemed to be filled with people, busily striding around with papers, boxes and sacks. Local merchants on business errands, factors visiting ship captains, dockers loading and unloading vessels and filling and emptying warehouses. And, of course, there were the fascinating visitors. Few of the foreigners that landed at the port made it into the depths of the city, staying close to their ships and cargoes and to the drinking pits that entertained them.
    Among the busy and narrow thoroughfares, where ropes coiled around bollards and crates lay in abandoned unruly piles, Asima, Samir and Ghassan picked their way carefully, repeatedly ducking back and dodging the unheeding feet of sailors and slaves. The boys, dressed in the clothing of peasants, would be entirely unnoticed in the streets under normal circumstances, but Asima wore a shabby cloak over her good cotton clothes and had removed her jewellery once again so as not to stand out.
    Ahead lay the warehouse complex of master Trevistus, owner of four merchant galleys, native of the Imperial capital and