The Brigadier crossed to the window and looked out across the palace grounds. The view was tinted green because of the thickness of the windows, at least four inches as far as he could judge.

     “Those windows don't open,” said the Princess. “I've tried...”

     The Brigadier reached into a pocket and produced a small grenade, the item he’d taken from Blake's arsenal. He thumped it hard against the stone wall to depress the firing pin, then sat it on the windowsill. Darniss and the Princess were already backing away into the bathroom and he joined them there, gesturing for them to move another couple of paces further back so he could shield them with his body. “Hands over ears, mouth open,” he commanded, doing it himself, and the two women obeyed without question.

     The explosion was louder than he’d expected and filled the room with clouds of smoke. The Brigadier leapt out and went to see what effect it had had. The window had broken, but the hole was too small even for the Princess to squeeze through. The rest of the window was riddled with cracks, though, and a couple of stout blows with a marble ornament knocked out a large chunk that fell into the flower bed below, crushing a lavender bush.

     The Brigadier jumped through, then helped the Princess as she followed him. He then pulled her into a run away from the building, leaving Darniss to chase after them. “The whole palace will have heard the explosion,” he said as they ran, hand in hand. “They'll know what we're doing...”

     Even as he spoke, the Radiant rose into view above the palace, and a breeze blew up that moved it in their direction. At the same time, guards poured out of the palace, pausing as they looked around. Then one of them saw them, pointed, and they all started running towards them, some of them firing their weapons. It was broad daylight, there was no cover and the walls of the palace grounds were fifty yards away. Even if they made it that far, the walls were unclimbable and the gates, the nearest of which was two hundred yards away, all had guardposts. The Brigadier simply grimaced and ran harder.

     Bullets whizzed past them, one of them tugging at his sleeve as it tore through. They became aware of the piping of the Radiant as it approached, and the wind it was generating to propel itself also pushed at the three fugitives, their clothes billowing like sails and the Princess’s hair streaming ahead of her except where it was gummed down by drying blood. More gunshots rang out, but this time the Brigadier wasn't aware of them passing him by. Their aim was apparently getting worse, which was strange. There was no time to puzzle it out, though. His mind was full of the knowledge that he no longer had his own gun. He had no way of shooting back, of holding the guards back. He only had his sword now, and the Radiant would probably curse them before it was close enough for him to use it. He thought about dropping the sword so he could run faster, but every fibre of his being rebelled against leaving himself totally weaponless. He gripped the sword tighter therefore, while he felt the Princess’s hand go slippery with sweat. He heard her panting with exertion beside him, but she was having no trouble keeping up.

     The piping diminished, as if they were putting distance between themselves and the Radiant, which was impossible, unless... On an impulse, he slackened his pace enough to glance behind him. He felt the Princess tugging at his hand for a moment, until she also slowed down, her face creased with puzzlement. The Radiant was no longer pursuing them, they saw. The wind was slackening, the air growing calm, and then it started blowing in the other direction, towards the approaching guardsmen who were... They were shooting at the Radiant! The Brigadier was so surprised that he came to a complete halt and stared as their adversaries started fighting amongst themselves.

     “They figured it out!” gasped the Princess with delight. “The Radiants can control the wind, they can control the weather, which means they caused the draught that’s killing their country. This is what we came for, to make them realise this.”

     “Go!” called one of the guards. “Get out of here!” The man then fell as another guard shot him. The Guard Captain, whose loyalty to the King was apparently stronger than his love of his country. Some of the other guards apparently felt the same way because a battle was breaking out between them, guard against guard, and then the Radiant was among them, tearing the rebel guards apart. Soon the battle would be over and the pursuit would begin again.

     Determined not to waste the chance they'd been given, the Brigadier and the Princess began running towards the wall again, Darniss still following them. “We should head for the gate,” panted the Princess. “The guards might be on our side.”

     “And they might not.”

     “What have we got to lose?”

      She had a point, the Brigadier realised, and so they angled towards the nearest gate, whose guards were already aware of them and had emerged from their guardpost to stare at them, their weapons in their hands. The Brigadier dropped his sword as he ran and held up his hands to make himself look less threatening. There would be no fighting here, he knew. The guards had guns, the fugitives didn’t. Either the guards would join with them, or they would capture or kill them as they approached. Though he hated it, the Princess’s fate was now out of his hands.

     He became aware of a strong wind tugging at his clothes from behind. The Radiant was pursuing them again. He saw the guards ahead also bracing themselves against the strengthening gale and hoped they came to the same realisation that the ones behind had. They must have been suspecting it for months, he thought. The idea that the Radiants could control the weather was long established in folklore. The idea that the drought was a purely natural phenomenon, must have taken the King and his ministry of propaganda a long time to establish, but now the guards could feel the truth billowing out their clothing and streaming through their hair, so obviously conjured up by the Radiant that no-one could deny it any more. So much for the Radiants having superior intellects, thought the Brigadier. They'd made a serious mistake revealing this ability so publicly, unless they were so confident of victory that they just didn't care any more.

     As they drew close, the guards aimed their guns at them and shouted words they couldn’t hear but whose meaning was clear. The Brigadier, still holding the Princess’s hand tightly, slowed to a stop and forced her to stop as well. “We are not your enemies!” he shouted, hoping the wind would blow his words to their ears. “That is your enemy!” He pointed back at the Radiant, now almost close enough to curse them. “That is your enemy! Helberion is working on a weapon against them! King Leothan will share it with you if you give us back to him!”

     “He speaks the truth!” added the Princess, her voice breaking as she shouted. Princesses didn't shout. She had never spoken at this volume before. “We will help you fight the Radiants! We will help you drive them away so that the rains will return! Your country will bloom again! We will help you!”

     The guards were arguing among themselves, the Brigadier saw. The continuation of an argument they'd had many times before, by the look of it. The Guard Captain was shouting at the others angrily. One of his men pointed his gun at his head and shot him. The man then gestured for the Brigadier and the two women to come forward, while the other guards began shooting. The Brigadier tensed up, expecting to feel bullets tearing into his body, but they were aiming past them, at the Radiant. He reached out, grabbed the Princess’s hand again and pulled her on, towards the gate.

     The piping of the Radiant was growing louder behind them, but the creature was being hit by a tremendous number of bullets, many of which were punching holes in its buoyancy sacks, releasing hydrogen. The creature would be finding it harder to remain airborne. They were willing to sacrifice themselves if it benefited their race, he knew, but their secret was out now. Too many people had seen the Radiant using a wind it had conjured up itself to propel itself around the palace grounds. Members of the Royal family enjoying the morning sun. Gardeners and other servants going about their duties. Even members of the public watching the whole thing through the railings. Catching the three fugitives had become irrelevant, and so the Radiant rose into the sky and the wind changed direction, blowing it away from the fusillade.

     “Someone has to tell the King,” they heard one of the guards say as they reached the gate.

     “The King knows,” said the Princess. “He's always known.”

     “That's a lie!” The same man protested. “Why would the King be party to the death of his own kingdom?”

     “He's been adopted. He's going to become a Radiant himself.”

     “It's true,” said Darniss, puffing as she tried to get her breath back. She was neither young, like the Princess, nor did she have military training. She was an elderly woman and she didn't have the energy for these exertions. “You have to believe it.”

     “It's impossible! It's ridiculous! It can't be true!”

     “What about Bostel?” someone else demanded. “You killed Bostel!”

     “He had it coming for a long time,” said the guard who'd killed the Captain. “I shoulda done it weeks ago.”

     “Don't you get it, you idiot?” added the first man. “You killed the Captain! That's a hanging offence! And we're all in on it!”

     “Not if we arrest him, and them.” Another man pointed at the Princess and the Brigadier. “We tell ‘em Briggs acted alone.”

     “We all shot at the Radiant! We're all in the shit!”

     “We gotta decide quick,” said another man. “They're here.” He pointed at the first group of guards that had followed them from the palace. They were pulling up, aiming their weapons at the fugitives. “Listen, we tell ‘em Briggs acted alone. The Radiant can't tell anyone what really happened...”

     “The King already knows,” said the Princess. “He's an adoptee, He’s in constant telepathic communication with the Radiant. He already knows what you did.”

     “You're lying!”

     “No, she's not,” said the Brigadier. “The King knows what you did. Your only hope is to run while you can. Disappear into the city.”

     “You're trying to turn us against our own people...”

     Then there was no more time for words, though, as the first group of guards closed in around them, and they were pointing their weapons at the gate guards as much as at the fugitives. “All of you, put down your weapons!”

     “It was him!” said one of the gate guards, pointing at Briggs. “It was him who shot Bostel...”

     “I said put down your weapons!”

     The Brigadier saw the moment the gate guards made their decision and he threw himself at the Princess, throwing her to the ground just in time as the shooting started. Bullets flew above their heads and men fell on both sides, one just a few feet away from the Brigadier. He leapt over and snatched up his gun, then used it to shoot the three palace guards closest to him. Someone else was shooting close behind him, and he looked to see that Darniss and the Princess had also snatched up guns, both of them using them confidently and accurately.

     All royals, all across the human world, were trained in combat, of course, in case an assassin made it past their protection details, and Princess Ardria had proven a better student than most. Seeing Darniss with a gun in her hand filled him with grave concern, though. He toyed with the idea of killing her. She couldn't be trusted, and cold blooded murder was justified in defence of the royal family of Helberion. She'd saved the Princess’s life back in the palace, though. She seemed to have thrown her lot in with them, for the time being at least, and having another gun on their side might be the difference between life and death. He would watch her, though, and he would gun her down without hesitation and without regret the first time she did something he didn't like.

     The surviving palace guards were running for the fence, where the massive granite columns of the gate posts would give them some cover. Darniss, the Princess and the Brigadier ran for the gate, and the gate guards made room for them. “Guess we're traitors now,” one of them said unhappily.

     “You're rebels, fighting to overthrow a corrupt regime,” said the Princess.

     “Hell, yes! I like the sound of that!”

     More people were running from the palace. Guards and messengers on their way to the other guard posts to send reinforcements. “We've got to move,” said the Brigadier.

     “How? They've got us pinned down!”

     “We've got to rush them. Once they’re down we'll have a clear run out into the city.”

     “You don’t decide what to do! You’re the enemy! We're at war with you!”

     “We're all at war with the Radiants. We have to fight them together.”

     “Those aren't Radiants out there! They're our own men! Toman and Garner and Phil...”

     “Those men are trying to kill you. Appealing to their friendship won't save you.”

     “This is all your fault! Everything was fine until you came!” He swung his gun around to aim it at the Brigadier. The Brigadier grabbed his wrist and twisted it, making the man yell and drop it.

     “He's right!” said another man, though. “It's all your fault!” Before the Brigadier could stop him, he ran towards the palace guards, his hands over his head. “I surrender! I'm with you! I'm...” There was a shot and the man fell dead.

     All the other gate guards were staring at the Brigadier in shock and horror, waiting for him to tell them what to do. “We do the same,” he said, “but we go shooting.” They nodded nervously.

     The Brigadier turned to the Princess. ”You stay here,” he said.

     A look of anger flashed across her face, but then she nodded. In a combat situation, only the reigning monarch had the authority to override the ranking military commander, but the Princess wouldn’t have argued with him in any case. Lives were lost when the chain of command was unclear. There had to be no doubt in anyone's mind who was giving the orders.

     The Brigadier examined his gun, found it was almost empty. One of the gate guards handed him a box of ammunition. He nodded his thanks as he reloaded his gun, then shoved a handful of bullets into his pocket. Beside him, Darniss and the Princess were doing the same, shoving spare bullets into the tops of their stockings. The palace guardsmen were still shouting at them to surrender. They both ignored them.

     When he’d finished, the Brigadier turned to Darniss. “You stay close beside me,” he told her. “If you acquit yourself well, I will appeal to the King to have your death sentence commuted. At the first sign of treachery, though, I will kill you. Do you understand?” She nodded, swallowing nervously.

     The Brigadier turned back to the gate guards. “Ready?” They nodded again. “Okay. Let's go!”

     He led the way, running out from the cover of the guard post, already firing before be had a target in his sight. The sound of the gunshots made the palace guardsmen shrink back in fear, which gave him the time he needed to move to a place where he could see them without getting shot. He used up the last two bullets in his gun shooting two of them, then ran into them, throwing a group of them bodily to the ground. He heard knives being pulled from their sheaths as they struggled to throw him off, felt a pain in his side as one of them was thrust into his flesh.

     He half expected to be fighting alone. Half expected the gate guards to hang back from attacking their own colleagues. Men they knew. Men they had joked with and fought alongside for years beforehand. Friends, battle brothers. People they might have given their lives for under other circumstances. If that had been the case he would have died there as the palace guards stabbed and shot him repeatedly. The Princess might have come after him, defying his command rather than suffering recapture and cursing, and he might have lived long enough to see her being shot down, her beautiful face contorted with pain and fury even as the gun roared in her hand with the determination to sell her life dearly. It would have been a glorious end to both their lives and he would have died without regret. It wasn't to be, though, as the gate guards, understanding that their King had betrayed them and that their only chance for survival lay with the Brigadier, followed him into combat.