Chapter 16: Chapter 15 – Valens In Danger

“Raviel!”

The young patrician sat up abruptly, letting out a low cry. He took a moment before discerning Aster's blurred silhouette near his bed. He passed a shaking hand over his face. His heart was pounding uncomfortably. It was so fast and disorderly that he could almost drown out the sound of his thoughts. Ghostly thoughts lost in the twists and turns of his foggy mind.

"Raviel," Aster called softly.

Suddenly, everything came back to him in full force, and he became pale.

“We're going to the palace,” he whispered hoarsely. “Right now!”

He got up in a hurry, but Aster gently pushed him back onto his bed.

“You are in no condition to…”

“Aster!”

Raviel knocked his hand away and stood up. He cast a determined gaze toward Aster.

“We are going to the palace. And you take my sword,” he added, leaving no room for any arguing.

He took a few steps to the large chest against the wall and opened it. Aster didn't try to hold him back, but he grabbed the weapon with a hint of concern.

“What's going on?”

Raviel stiffened, and his hand slid nervously down his leg to rest on the fabric of the light tunic, where he hid a dagger.

“I think Valens is going to suffer from an assassination attempt tonight,” he replied flatly.

He rushed briskly towards the exit of his room. He couldn't afford to waste time. Not if his vision turned out to be correct. Aster quickly followed him.

"And Mel?" he asked in a low voice.

"I don't want to endanger her unnecessarily.”

He crossed the atrium, his body tense with apprehension. His thin tunic rippled around his thighs with each step. It wasn't appropriate to go out like this, but Raviel didn't care. All his thoughts were on Valens. Fear twisted his stomach, and each passing moment made him dread that he would be too late.

He pushed open the door of the villa with a sharp gesture and rushed outside, his sandals hitting the ground without softness. Around them, the silence sounded strange, except for the whistling of the wind.

“Where are you going?” Aster suddenly asked.

"To borrow my father's horse."

Aster frowned slightly.

"Does he know?"

“That's the least of my worries right now,” Raviel replied without slowing down.

He briefly hoped his father wouldn't notice. He would spend the night with Cecilia anyway, so far from the villa. Without a word, he walked around the house, and a small stable appeared in their field of vision.

“Wait for me here,” Raviel ordered.

Aster nodded and watched him disappear into the stable. He inhaled deeply. By reflex, his fingers closed nervously on the pommel of Raviel's sword. He hadn't paid attention to it, but the handle was damaged as if the weapon had been used for a long time in the past. Did Raviel know how to fight? Or had the weapon belonged to another person? He ran a hand over his face. Now was not the time to ask such questions.

He looked up at the stable. What could Raviel have seen to find himself in this state? It was the first time Aster had witnessed one of his visions. Mel had warned him that Raviel could have some during the night, but he hadn't imagined it could cause such distress. So much so that Aster had wondered if it wasn't a nightmare. When Raviel had woken up in a sweat, an irrepressible panic in his eyes, Aster had understood that something serious was brewing. But was Valens really about to die, as Raviel thought? And if so, could they save him? As a slave, Aster couldn't see how he could do anything.

A faint whinny snapped him out of his thoughts. Raviel was already seated on a horse whose white coat seemed to shine in the moonlight. He stopped at Aster's level and held out a hand to help him settle behind him. Fortunately, the saddle turned out to be wide enough for two.

“You're ready?” Raviel asked.

His voice had lost its usual softness.

“Yes.”

Raviel half turned his head.

“Hang on.”

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Aster didn't have time to answer. The horse rushed off at a gallop on the road from the villa, and he only had the reflex to grab Raviel's tunic not to fall.

The horse quickly reached the streets of the city. It was calm, but a few passers-by watched them go by in astonishment. The night was however not very advanced. Perhaps it was more their eagerness that was surprising. The steed's hooves clacked the ground with a crash as the breeze whipped their faces. Raviel mastered the horse perfectly and did not slow down for a moment. But the closer they got to the palace, the more dull anguish invaded Aster. He had a very bad feeling.

The contours of the immense monument suddenly stood out in front of them. Aster tightened his legs slightly against the sides of their mount as Raviel accelerated, and the horse's muscles tensed with the effort.

Raviel suddenly pulled the reins, and their steed stopped so abruptly that Aster almost fell over. The mount rested its hooves on the ground, and Aster finally saw what had stopped their course.

Several soldiers blocked the road leading to the palace.

Aster stiffened. He had a bad feeling.

“No one is allowed to pass right now!” One of the soldiers called out loudly.

"I want to see the Emperor," Raviel replied.

He looked calm, but his knuckles had whitened. The horse itself seemed to be agitated and was snorting nervously.

"Take another step, and I'll arrest you," the soldier said coldly.

Raviel remained silent for a moment, before whispering:

"Do you think you can hold them off without getting hurt?"

Aster tilted his head slightly to the side to better observe the scene. He saw six soldiers, armed with swords or javelins and shields. They were protected by the armor of the Massallian army.

“It’s difficult to say; I have no idea what they are worth.”

“They're simple legionnaires,” Raviel informed him. “I would say that they are here more to deter than to fight.”

Aster thinks for a moment before saying in a hesitant voice:

“Must be doable then.”

“Step back!” A soldier warned again.

“If possible, try not to kill them. However, your life remains the most important. Don't worry about the consequences; I'll take responsibility for whatever happens.”

Seeing them advancing, the soldiers pointed their javelins, resting them on their shields. Aster slid smoothly to the ground, armed with his only sword. He looked up at Raviel.

"Be careful," he said without taking his eyes off the legionnaires.

Aster drew his blade.

"I'll meet you when I'm done."

A shadow of a smile appeared on Raviel's lips.

“Let me offer you a diversion.”

He suddenly set off at a gallop, rushing at the soldiers without deviating. A cry of surprise rang out as they realized that Raviel wasn't considering slowing down. A javelin was pointed in his direction.

“No! Do not hurt him; he's a patrician!”

The soldiers abruptly moved aside as Raviel stormed past. One of them tripped… and fell to the ground when Aster hit him hard in the face with the hilt of his sword. He had taken advantage of the fact that their attention was on Raviel to act.

Before the soldiers even realized what was happening, he kicked one of the men violently in the stomach and snatched his javelin without him being able to do anything. He finished his movement by breaking his nose with a fearsome elbow, and the legionnaire fell to the ground moaning, his hands pressed against his face.

“What…”

“Catch him!”

Aster suddenly stepped back when the tip of a sword grazed him. The blades clashed loudly, and he sent his opponent's blade flying to the ground. Raviel was not mistaken. The soldiers had not expected to have to fight and found themselves caught off guard.

He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and brandished the javelin with his left hand. He had to get rid of the legionnaires quickly.

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