Had all the prisoners taken up arms and fought their way out? Or had the city’s slaves come to rescue those imprisoned? It seemed impossible.
“Yes,” the guard replied, his eyes flickering every time Romilda lifted the waterskin to her lips, catching her gaze. “It started when an Achaean rebel infiltrated the arena and released all the slaves and prisoners. The slaves in the city followed, and then we had a full uprising on our hands. Fucking rebel scum.”
Katell held her composure, though her fingers curled into fists at her sides.
“Achaean rebels?” Arnza asked. “In Bruna?”
The guard leaned in slightly, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “Took us all by surprise. Apparently, a rebel in disguise toured the arena searching for her sister.”
Katell’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Alena.
Alena had come to the arena looking for her.
The world narrowed to the sound of her own pulse.
“She freed the Gifted first,” the guard went on, oblivious. “They launched an attack on the guards, broke open the cells, and soon the rest were escaping. Then the household slaves joined in.”
Katell couldn’t believe her ears.
Alena had come for her. And she hadn’t been there.
She turned away from the others, boots striking stone as she walked a few paces to the edge of the rampart.
Amid the hazy sprawl of Bruna, the amphitheatre loomed in the distance, cracked and hollow.
Katell’s breath caught, her fingers curling around the handrail until the wood creaked. Her chest ached with a tangled knot of guilt.
No wonder her sister had been with Nik when they reunited at the Western hillfort. She must have freed him from the arena.
Well done, little star.
But a darker thought crept in.
Had Dorias known? He’d left men behind to find Alena, yet they’d come up empty…
Had she arrived after they’d already gone?
Or worse, had Dorias kept it from her all this time, afraid to reveal her sister had turned rebel?
Her jaw clenched. The wind stung her eyes, and still she didn’t turn back. Not yet.
“Took us weeks to clear up the city and bring back the peace,” the guard’s voice drifted to her. “And even then, we only recovered a third of the slaves. Anyway, they have orders to tear it down now.”
Katell whirled around. “They’re tearing down the arena?”
“Yes. The arena master was killed by the slaves, and no one has wanted to take over since. The cost of repairs alone is too daunting. The Emperor ordered it to be taken down and the stone reused for his temple.”
Pinaria frowned. “The Emperor’s cult has reached as far as Bruna?”
“Absolutely,” the guard replied with a proud nod. “I heard Emperor Tarquinius has commissioned temples to be built all over the Empire.”
The other guard returned, confirming they were indeed allowed passage.
Romilda, who’d been silent until then, rose gracefully and cast the young guard a teasing wink. “Thank you for the hospitality, soldier.”
His cheeks flushed a deep red, and Arnza snorted behind them. Romilda headed towards the wooden staircase leading down from the rampart. Below, long shadows pooled beneath the stone walls, swallowing the edges of the narrow path.
