Prince of Time

Chapter Forty-Two - The Approaching Doom

The underground room was low-ceilinged but huge, hollowed out into the rock. It stretched on out of sight, narrowing to a corridor that snaked away around a corner. The entire space was filled with barrels, the lids tightly restrained.

“What is this place?” Zeno asked, in a hushed voice.

“This is the location of Plan Nine-two,” Teliwen sounded almost enraptured by the idea. “Guess what’s in the barrels.”

She gently lifted off the lid of one near the door. It was two-thirds full of thick, clear oil. Zeno bent closer and sniffed.

“Naphtha?” he guessed.

“Well done,” Teliwen closed the lid. “And naphtha means…?”

“It’s fire oil,” Zeno breathed, realisation dawning at last. “Barrels and barrels of fire oil.”

Teliwen nodded proudly. “We add to it all the time.”

“This is Plan Nine-two?” Zeno couldn’t control his shaking hands. “Underground caverns full of fire oil?”

“See that corridor?” Teliwen pointed. “It’s full of barrels and it snakes all the way round under the city. It’s everywhere. One little spark down here and…kaboom.”

“You’ll blow the city,” Zeno marvelled. “If the walls are breached, you’ll let the enemy come in and blow the city. This could destroy Etheron completely. Reduce her to rubble. Raze her to the ground.”

“Exactly,” Teliwen said, smugly. “Somebody offers themselves as a sacrifice down here, to set the flame. Then Etheron explodes in fire. Her own people perish, of course, but so do the enemy. A sacrifice. The last stand. Plan Nine-two.”

The stupidity, the honour, the dramatic beauty of it made Zeno start to smile. He couldn’t help himself. There was a thrill in being this close to death, a thrill in knowing that this whole city might explode and kill you for the sake of harming the enemy.

“It’s a wonderful plan,” he told her.

“I know,” Teliwen grinned. “I knew you’d understand.”

Far above, a distant horn sounded. Teliwen tensed, her eyes flashing to the ceiling.

“The army has made a move,” she gulped. “I’m needed.”

“I’ll help,” Zeno turned sharply for the door. “Where can I get a weapon?”

“No!” Teliwen ordered. “I have my commands. You are to stay out of the way.”

“Out of the way?” Zeno glared. “When even the children fight?”

“The Prince says you’re no warrior,” Teliwen’s scowl equalled his. “Those who can’t fight do not die on the walls for nothing.”

“I can learn,” Zeno snapped. “I’m not useless.”

Teliwen put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re never useless. You’d be wasted as a corpse.”

“But…”

“Find somewhere out of the way and stay there! Don’t think about disobeying!”

Teliwen was already running out of the underground room, dashing up the stairs without bothering to relock any doors. Zeno was left furious and insulted, standing surrounded by imminent death.

The attack began as an exchange of fire. Etheron’s catapults hurled boulders over the walls, crushing small portions of the army, which swiftly drew out of range. Siege weapons crumpled under the impact, wood and metal splintering.