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The Grand Plaza was a dish-shaped basin of white limestone half a mile wide. Seven roads fed into its rim, and every road now crawled with bodies, a living tide of polished shells and rustling cloaks.
Kai found his comrade there. He and Vexor joined the flow from the eastern gatehouse, moving shoulder to shoulder with bakers in flour-smudged aprons, with smiths whose hammers still hung at their belts, with scholars ants clutching wax tablets.
High overhead, banners snapped in the dawn breeze. The Queen's personal crest, an eight pointed star shrouded in vine leaves. Bronze loud-tubes bristled from tower balconies. Crystal screens which were invisible by day were affixed to archways around the central plaza's rim.
By the time the second bell tolled, not a grain of bare stone remained. A hush rippled through the crowd. The air smelled of resin polish and nervous anticipation.
