Eight for Eternity by Mary Reed, Eric Mayer Read Free Book Online Page B

well-built child. His face looked fiery red, whether from the beating he’d taken or simply from fury, John couldn’t tell. The other three replied in kind. They looked older than the lone boy, more gangly, but a head taller.
    “Constantinople is a violent place,” Haik remarked. “No one even takes notice.”
    It was true, the few passersby simply skirted the area around the dispute.
    “I got in more than a few scrapes when I was a youngster,” John remarked.
    “And when you weren’t so young too. Remember when we had the dispute with that—”
    Haik’s reminiscence was cut short as the younger boy gave a blood curdling shriek and flung himself at the others again, flailing his fists madly. The three stepped back, dodging the blows. One kneed the attacker. Another belted the back of his head with a fist. The attacker continued to lash out. Blood sprayed from the nose of the tallest boy.
    Then John was sprinting toward the group.
    He caught the tall boy’s thin wrist before he could make use of the glistening blade he had suddenly produced.
    John twisted until the blade clattered onto the pavement. He kicked it away.
    He addressed the three older combatants. “All of you, return to your homes. Immediately.”
    When he let go of the wrist the boy sneered at him but backed away. The three walked off slowly, shuffling their feet, casting dark looks back over their shoulders.
    Haik had retrieved the knife and squatted in front of the boy John had saved. “Such valor deserves a reward.”
    The boy took the proffered knife with one hand, while wiping blood off his face with the other.
    “What was that all about?” Haik asked.
    “They was Blues.” The boy ran a short finger along the knife blade. “I’ll cut their throats when they’re asleep. They won’t be able to sleep any more. I know where they live. They’ll go to sleep and not wake up.”
    “The emperor hangs murderers,” John said.
    The boy didn’t look at John. His eyes narrowed. “They deserve to be killed. I’ll cut their throats.”
    “Because they’re Blues?” Haik wondered. “You hate them so much because they’re Blues?”
    The boy gave Haik the same dead-eyed, uncomprehending expression he might have got if he’d asked a buzzard why it was ripping the entrails from a rotting dog.
    “This boy is a Green,” John explained.
    “And my brother, too,” the boy said. “That yellow bellied bastard who pulled the knife on me…his brother said something to my brother.”
    “It must have been very bad,” Haik remarked.
    “Something you daren’t let anyone say and keep living,” the boy said solemnly, “if he’s a Blue.”
    “But why do you hate Blues so much?” Haik persisted.
    “Well, they’re just bad, is all. Just plain bad. Everyone knows that. My father told me so.” The boy glanced at John and his eyes widened slightly. Had he noticed the dark blue tones of John’s cloak? He quickly tucked the knife away inside his tunic.
    “Go home,” John told him sternly. “Don’t murder anyone on the way.” He added under his breath.
    The boy whirled and ran off.
    Haik straightened up. “The factions seem to be even worse here than in Antioch.”
    “Yes, and Justinian has been trying to keep order ever since I arrived in the city. He’s passed laws against street violence and tried to mete justice out evenly. The Greens still claim he favors the Blues and the Blues insist he’s abandoned them for the Greens.”
    “Does he favor one side or the other?”
    “If you’re a faction member, it depends on your point of view. There’s no satisfying them.”
    Haik looked puzzled. “It can’t be sheer hatred, can it? I’ve heard it said that the Blues support the wealthy and the Greens see themselves as champions of the masses.”
    “If that were the case there would be incomparably more Greens than Blues. Do you think any of those boys we saw fighting came from wealthy families?”
    “But it is true that the Blues are