'Go on, go on, was the most common phrase. 'Keep going. There's hundreds of us.
'Stand back, Edeard instructed loudly. A rock came whirling out of the sky, thrown by someone at the rear of the swelling mob. Macsen's third hand swatted it away easily.
Buate started to laugh. 'Not quite the people's champion you thought you were, eh, Waterwalker?
Edeard's third hand sucked the oil out of all five barrels, consolidating it into a giant globe. He sent it streaking forwards. As it flew a couple of yards over his head he held up a hand. A single thread of light crackled out from his extended index finger.
The oil ignited with a loud roar, spitting out fat globules of flame. Edeard guided it down to a yard above the street then sent it racing on ahead of him. The men lining the route yelled in fear and dived aside. Great droplets of flaming oil splattered onto the street, hissing and fizzing in its wake.
'This way, Edeard told a startled Buate politely. They began to walk back down Zulmal Street. The would-be mob were keeping their distance now, watching the fireball anxiously as Edeard began to draw it back. 'I never got to thank your dear brother for this idea, he said to Buate. 'It was a good one.
'It's a long way to Parliament House, Buate growled. 'And we're not there yet. He was using his longtalk to issue a fast stream of instructions.
Edeard's farsight showed him people taking to the streets all across Sampalok. He was ready for that. The constables had been instructed that under no account was anyone from the district to get across a bridge and spread their brand of disturbance into the rest of the city. From what he could perceive, the bridge reinforcement teams were holding well. None of the rapidly forming crowds were getting close to the end of a bridge. He picked out several of the Hundred directing people, goading them onwards. Stones and bottles were starting to be thrown and telekinetically guided on to the constables. Blade discs were also skimming through the air.
The arrest teams weren't fairing as well as he hoped. The most able farsighted constables were assigned to tracking those on the list, and guiding the teams towards them. They were having trouble pushing through the hostile crowds thronging the streets.
'The thing about fire, Waterwalker, is that you can never really control how it burns, Buate said.
Edeard was very conscious of how quickly the fireball's oil was being used up. The street behind them was now jammed with angry people, yelling insults and abuse. More of the mob were starting to mill around in the alleys on the way back to Mid Pool. As soon as the squad passed, they came out to join the main press behind them.
'Edeard, Boyd growled under his breath.
'You know that we can dodge anything they throw at us, Edeard said with quiet reassurance to his friends. 'Our only real concern is to get this bastard into a cell.
'Once ignited, a flame will burn until there is no more fuel, Buate said. His hand waved at the mob following them. 'They don't need ringleaders any more. They're burning on their hatred for you.
The barrels secreted down the alleys had been discovered. They were tipped over and smashed. Jamolar oil rippled down the street ahead of the squad. Edeard sent the fireball soaring high above the rooftops, then burst it apart in a vivid halo of flame. The mob below flinched.
Edeard just caught a flash of white light. The oil on the street burst into flame. People screamed and ran. A wall of flame raced towards the squad.
'Shit, Edeard grunted. He asked the city to change the street, and the oil vanished, soaked away by the suddenly porous pavement. Puffs of smoke floated between the buildings, dissipating in the breeze.
Buate's jaw dropped. 'What—
Edeard winked at him. 'Keep going.
The crowd along Zulmal Street kept a respectful distance as the squad walked the rest of the way to the Mid Pool concourse. There were over a hundred constables on the broad semi circle around the pool, with more behind the bridges over to Bellis and Pholas Park. Livid crowds were boiling round the entrance to each street that led into Sampalok.
Macsen and Boyd handed a sullen Buate over to one of the arrest teams, with instructions to take him to the cells underneath Parliament House.
'Now what? Kanseen asked, looking at the jeering crowd blocking the end of Amtol Street.
'I don't know. Edeard said. He was longtalking with the senior sergeants at each of the bridges, checking up on the progress of the other arrest teams. 'We've managed to nab eight of the Hundred, including Buate. That's not going to have the effect I wanted. He gave the street mobs a worried glance. 'I don't want to send anyone in there again. That really will kick things off.
'If we stand out here, we've lost, Macsen said. 'You'll be admitting they're in charge of Sampalok, and there's nothing you can do about it.
'I thought we didn't mind if they rioted in Sampalok, Boyd said.
'There are a lot of decent folk who live here, Edeard said. 'And this is a very big crowd. It's the same at every bridge. I didn't realize Buate still had this much control.
'We could go in with concealment, Dinlay said. 'Snatch the closest one on the list and bring him out quickly. That Hundred are the key to this, they're the ones stirring people up. Take them out one at a time.
'You might be right, Edeard said. He wasn't sure. The size and animosity of the response had caught him off guard. But then Sampalok residents always had a chip on their shoulder, it wouldn't take much to rile them.
He went over to the watcher crew at the end of the concourse next to Trade Route Canal to find out which of the Hundred was nearby. Before he'd even spoken to anyone the sergeant at the middle bridge into High Moat was longtalking that the crowd was rampaging along the streets, breaking into shops and businesses. Looting had begun. Edeard's farsight flicked over to the area, sensing a deluge of anger and glee. Not a good combination, he thought as his farsight found a ge-eagle overhead. The genistar's acute sight revealed flames and smoke pouring out of five or six buildings. When it swooped lower he could see dense congregations pressed up against commercial premises. Goods were being hauled out of shattered doors to be passed around the eager crowd. Scores of kids were running away, each clutching at some piece of loot.
The ge-eagle's thought filled with agitation. Something was pulling at it, forcing it down towards the curving, angled rooftop of Sampalok. Its powerful wings flapped madly as its distress mounted.
Edeard found that extremely alarming. Few people had the telekinetic strength to reach all the way up to a ge-eagle, and fewer still had the inclination to attack a defenceless creature.
It was inordinately difficult to farsight telekinesis, but Edeard could just make out the tenuous band of force stretching up from the ground. He focused on the origin, a youth no more than fifteen, standing in Entfall Avenue while the crowd surged around him.
'Stop that, Edeard commanded.
The lad started. His telekinesis abandoned the ge-eagle, and he ran into the nearest building.
The sound of wood splintering reverberated across the Mid Pool concourse. Edeard looked round to see a group of people had battered down the door to a baker's shop in Mislore Avenue. Cheers rang out as the crowd swarmed in to help themselves to fresh loaves and cakes. Sharp cries from the baker and his family vanished swiftly. Then the grocer's next door was breached. A clothing shop. A tavern—to the accompaniment of much cheering. An ironmonger's. Cafe. A cobbler.
'What do we do, Waterwalker? the senior sergeant on the concourse demanded.
Edeard looked at him, not knowing the answer. Then there came the sound of doors being broken on Zulmal Street.
'Lady! He turned to the sergeant. 'Drive them back, get them out of those premises.