* * *
Hanna stood aghast at the wild pageantry of chaos enveloping this world of madness. She had arrived early at the arena, dressed as a poor vendor selling sweetroot treats. As hoped, no one paid any attention to an old woman scurrying along with a basket of widow cakes, a pungent bread made from coarse-ground barley flour blended with sweetmint root with a flake of cinnamon and a dab of honey. It was a concoction made by the humblest of people, those of very little means, the reason for the name ‘widow cakes’. Surprisingly, the old woman had already been parted from several, she feeling it must be out of pity.
Stealthily making her way to the upper concourse where she was within hearing distance of the governor’s station, Hanna had settled down to wait upon coming events. The view was most disquieting for her, though. From here the entire arena was clearly visible. Already there were some pre-event shows going on, mostly local fellows trying to prove themselves, often with violent, bloody consequences. And then there had been the herding along of some of the condemned from the North Market Street Prison, a few of whom she knew. The chanting of the gathering throng convinced Hanna there would be little mercy shown this day.
Then came a raging storm, its arrival so sudden that few escaped the torrent of rain and punishing hail before they had secured shelter. Hanna had been standing under the overhang of an upper portico, being saved from the violent rush of angry wind and water that drenched so many others. As the tempest whipped its fury across the city, a violent quake shook the arena, scattering the terrified crowd back into the cyclonic maelstrom. Pressing her body against an inner wall, the woman watched in confused wonder at the shaking tumult. People stumbled and fell, screaming in fear. Towers swayed and groaned as if in pain. All the while, standards and flags danced like an invisible army was marching them along on parade.
Disgruntled rumbling and quaking had long subsided before Hanna could force herself away from the tiny alcove in the wall. Finally, with determined resolve, she managed to work her way back to the wide portico overlooking the arena floor far below. Hundreds had departed, either desirous of seeing what damage may have occurred elsewhere in the city or, as some had voiced, ‘it was not a good day because the gods were in a foul mood.’ This did not dampen the festivities for the remaining throng, many of them crowding into the commons, a standing-room-only walled concourse directly across from Hanna.
Blaring of a dozen horns marked the beginning of festivities. This was an extraordinary day, it being declared so by the governor, with special events added, one of which was a breathtaking parade filled with contestants, musicians and decorated wagons filled with all kinds of wild and fearsome beasts. Gladiators, dressed in armor of copper, silver, and iron and plumed with peacock feathers dyed in every hue from gold to purple, marched proudly behind the trumpeters, cymbalists and drummers, closely followed by athletes, gymnasts, and other Olympic-style performers. It was truly a grand sight, the likes of which Hanna had never seen.
Hanna’s stare was suddenly torn away from the mesmerizing pageantry when bolted planks securing the western arena gates exploded skyward, quickly followed by dying screams of terrified guards as they were crushed by flying timbers from the ruined gates. Two raging elephants stormed in panic through the shattered opening, bellowing in fright, charging blindly into the marching parade, sending its participants fleeing in terror, overturning wagons, leaving a sea of carnage and death in their wake. Wide-eyed, Hanna stared in disbelief as what looked to her like the belly of Hell disgorged all the beasts of the earth upon the chaotic scene.
Out of the middle of this confused melee raced a caged wagon filled with the most ferocious of giant wild cats. The double team of eight horses was running blind, a troupe of African monkeys jumping and yanking on their manes while screeching in crazy excitement. Paying no heed to the helpless teamster who was frantically pulling on the reins, shouting curses drowned out by the deafening tumult, the nearly insane animals raced headlong into the southern retaining wall supporting the packed commons. A thirty-foot section of the earthquake-weakened wall collapsed in dust and rubble, sending scores of surprised revelers into the roiling cloud-mass below.
The lifting dust cloud revealed a writhing pile of living flesh, both of men and beasts. The kick of dying horses entangled with the flailing, frantic arms and legs of men and boys trying to escape the jumble of splintered wood and jagged masonry. All the while the roar of angry jungle cats, now escaped their iron prison, roused a panic in the hearts of every living being struggling amidst those ruins. Destruction and confusion filled the arena, but what remained hidden behind plastered walls was even more terrifying.
Out of the darkness of hidden terrors and into the bedlam of chaotic nightmares that Hanna beheld raced a flood of living flesh. Hundreds of men and animals fled the darkness with total abandon, the mountain wolf paying no heed to the archer, nor the archer considering the howling hyena. The stampeding was unstoppable. Anyone or anything barring the paths of this insane avalanche was run over or smashed through. There was no thought given to anything other than escape - escape from the bowels of darkness and the evil lurking within.
Though safely perched high above the melee, Hanna could not help but feel a rising panic within her own breast. As if frozen, she stared in heart-stopping wonder, sights so horrid being burned into her brain that it would take weeks before the woman could find a peaceful night’s sleep. Still, she had not the power to tear her eyes away from the destruction unfolding before them. And the thought of what lurked deep within those caverns of Hell nearly stole her breath away to the point she felt she might die. The reason for that fear was quickly revealed.
Out of the gaping mouth of that underworld, people still fled. Bloodied and torn, they stumbled into the light. Some collapsed into the dirt, too damaged to ever move again. Others surrendered to the hysterical moment, flinging themselves into the heaving mass of madness surrounding them. A few kept their wits, taking up weapons and preparing a defense…too few to face the coming onslaught.
Hanna watched something fly out of the darkness, rising twenty feet into the sky before plummeting earthward. It looked much like an old torn bundle of rags until it crunched hard, splaying on the ground. A huge dog - or at least what once was a dog weighing better than eight stone lay crumpled in the dirt, its body shattered and crushed. Before her eyes could fully comprehend what they were seeing, another giant beast-dog lay broken beside the first.
Finally, when she thought her heart would burst from anticipation, the raw theater of obscene violence renting itself upon the twisted stage of unreality, there arose such a symphony of discord as to chill even a warrior’s heart. Rubbing her eyes in disbelief, Hanna gasped at seeing a mass of hideous shapes emerging from the dark abyss locked in what looked to her like the slow waltz of the damned. Her widow cakes scattered when the basket burst upon hitting the stone floor as Hanna’s hands shot to her face in terror, but no sound could escape from screaming lips.
Three giant cave bears burst forth in a tangle with a host of dogs and humans in every stage of destruction, fighting off vicious attacks of a dozen huge, frothing canines locked in a struggle to the death. At least ten cubits from nose to tail, the beasts lashed out against the onslaught of the frenzied fighting dogs. Leashes, harnesses and traces entrapped both living and dead in a macabre web of broken machinery that was once two grand coaches, each pulled by four proud steeds. Several of those horses now lay torn and broken next to what little remained of those shattered wagons.
The combative pageantry gathered in ferocity as it danced further from the darkness, the bears now so enraged that they blindly attacked one another. The dogs mercilessly tore upon neck and flank, locking powerful teeth into flesh until crushing jaws or slashing claws ripped the lifeless animal away - but away was usually not far, the dogs held secure in the jumbled leashes. As the procession cantered first to the left and then to the right, Hanna saw a bloodi
ed corpse emerge from the darkness, a length of rope dragging him by the neck. There would be no dogmaster this day to release any of the governor’s judgment upon Ishtar or any trained animals to torture the girl.
As Hanna gathered her wits about her, she became sadly aware that the crowds, instead of being horrified, were shouting, celebrating, and whooping for more blood and gore. Some of the spectators even leaned over the stone retaining wall, pushing escapees from the carnage below back into the melee, laughing and shouting with glee when the hapless victims were snatched away by one of the waiting cats.
Long was the unplanned circus of carnage played out before soldiers from nearby barracks could arrive to take control. Dozens of wild animals had to be killed, many dozens more captured, before the injured could be cared for, the dead removed. All the while, people in the stands were shouting profanities at them for spoiling their fun. Of course, for the victims involved, it was another story. In fact, so much had been destroyed and so many of the day’s participants disabled, it was decided not to continue the planned events. Other than for a few acrobats and a couple of bare-knuckled amateur boxing bouts to help entertain the audience while the mess was cleaned up, little other than official judicial matters were to be carried out.
Hanna still trembled long after things had quieted. Taking only time to gather up the basket, leaving the scattered widow cakes, she slowly made her way down past several rows of seating until she stood only two rods from the grand review box, an extended section of the arena that jutted out from the governor’s seating area. Whatever the cause or reasons for the day’s events, she did not ponder. After all, today was to mark the destiny of a new and fledgling religion. She had come to watch the outcome and pray that greater powers were listening and would intervene.
Meanwhile, Mihai’s brain was burning up as her growing headache consumed the last of her vision. The woman had done her best, driven the world mad with the powers given her. In her mind she could see the bears tearing asunder the very animals Legion had planned to destroy Ishtar with. Lifting her arms and crying out another curse against all living flesh, Mihai fell backward, blind, the last thing she remembering was the surge of uncontrolled vomiting as she tumbled into nothingness.