Free Nobilissima by Carrie Bedford

three of us grabbed several cloaks and a few robes. I took a handful of jewelry from the box, including the diadem my father had given me when I was a child. Sylvia rolled it all into a bundle and took my hand. Aurelia snatched up a few things, and wrapped them in a cloak. Huddled together, we followed Alaric and Ataulf, who were deep in conversation. Outside the great doors, the halls still teemed with barbarians, who slashed at a few remaining Roman guards.
    We made our way through the great central hallway that led to the atrium. I saw two bearded giants pushing at a great statue of my father, heaving against it until it fell with a gut-wrenching crash to the floor. They laughed and ran further down the hall, swiping at busts and urns with their swords and whooping with joy when their targets fell in an explosion of shattered marble. Hurrying after the Goth king and Ataulf down the main hall, I stepped over bodies and chunks of stone and tried hard not to look at the blood on the floor, at the severed limbs and heads. I wanted to stop and be sick, but fear helped to keep me moving. A piercing scream from somewhere near the kitchens made my heart pound even harder and I felt the blood throbbing in my temples.
    At last, Alaric stopped and turned to us. “Go with my brother, Ataulf, and he will take you to safety in a villa close by. I’ll join you there.”
    He saluted, spun on his heel and disappeared into the darkness at the end of the hall.
    I looked at Ataulf, who smiled wryly. “As if I have nothing better to do but nursemaid you three,” he said. “We can’t risk walking out the front way, so one of you’ll have to tell me how to get out.”
    Sylvia spoke, and her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “I can show you.”
    Ataulf unsheathed a dagger and followed Sylvia, a weapon in each hand. The corridors were dark, all the lamps broken. Here and there, furniture or drapes had caught fire and the crackling flames provided the only light. We passed the top of a stairway that led down into pitch blackness and Sylvia whispered to Ataulf to stop. Her voice trembled when she spoke.
    “It is a back stairway to the kitchen gardens. There is a door down there, but it’s usually locked.”
    Without a word, Ataulf descended the steps and we followed close behind him. When we came to the narrow door at the bottom, he turned the handle but it was locked as Sylvia had said. He told us to back up a few paces, and then ran at the door, pushing hard with his shoulder until the door gave way with a crash that made us all jump. We crept along a cold stone passageway that dripped water and was covered with green moss, and finally emerged in the gardens near to one of the great ponds.
    The glow from the fires illuminated the garden and it was lighter outside than it had been in the palace. I immediately recognized where we were and pointed to a small gate in the exterior wall, the one I had used to steal out to the meeting with Alaric just a few days earlier.
    “That gate lets out on to the road,” I said.
    We hurried towards it, our steps echoing on the stone paths. Something caught at my gown and I shuddered with terror, but it was only a branch of a rose bush and I pulled the fabric clear, hurrying to keep up with Ataulf.
    The gate was already broken from its hinges and Ataulf kicked it aside so that we could pass. As we were about to step out into the narrow alleyway, he pushed us back roughly. Two horses galloped by, their hooves striking sparks on the cobblestones. On one, a Goth soldier held a terrified looking woman in front of him, clasping her tightly. They turned a corner out of sight and Ataulf gestured for us to follow him. Quietly, he led the way to a path that wound up to the villa that belonged to Gardius.
    The climb up the path seemed to last forever. The din of fighting still rose from the city streets, punctuated by screams and oaths. I was breathless from the fast walk, jumping at every shadow and at the