 Penguin Random House Audio presents Wrath of Poseidon by Clive Cussler and Robin Berceau Red View by Scott Brick Prologue 1 Sardis, Persian Empire, 546 B.C. The steep acropolis of Sardis loomed against the night sky, while far below at the city's edge, flames consumed the reed-thanched buildings. The Mazaris, dispatched by King Cyrus II of Persia the moment he'd learned of the revolt, had ridden through the night, leading a unit of armed heavy cavalry. According to the Imperial messenger, the Ionian mercenaries were sent to spark the revolt and dawn. Apparently, they'd gotten an early start. Fools! Artaban, his lieutenant, called out over the sound of hooves as the horses neared the gates. A wooden building exploded near the gold-refining works. Do they not realize that Cyrus will crush them? There is nothing left to crush, Mazaris shouted. I'm surprised that there's anything left to burn. It was the second time they'd marched upon Sardis. The first was when King Cyrus's army had broken the siege of the wealthy Lydian capital, captured its king, Crisis, then plundered his vast treasury. If not for this revolt, Mazaris would be accompanying the bulk of Crisis's treasure back to Akbatana. The quicker we quell this rebellion, the sooner we get home. He eyed the flames swirling from several structures just outside the gates. As they neared the inferno, Mazaris realized the purpose of the fires. He and his horsemen were almost blinded, waiting for them, the insurgents, with their backs to the blaze, had the advantage. Within moments, Cyrus's cavalry was attacked by a shadow army of soldiers armed with spears, axes, and swords. Dividing his men into two flanks, Mazaris led the left, Artaban the right. The deafening clash of metal rang through the night as his horsemen, blinded by the flames, battled the unseen enemy. Mazaris thrust at an armed silhouette. His blade struck something solid—the rebels' shield. Shouting, Mazaris ordered his left flank to close in, while Artaban did the same with the right, sweeping in behind the rebels, who suddenly found themselves sandwiched between both flanks. Spurring his horse to rear, Mazaris blocked the thrust of a spear and drove his blade into his opponent's chest, piercing through the man's inadequate armor. Pulling his sword free, he wheeled his mount to the right, then swung at the next man, felling him as well. Within minutes, it was over. The insurrectionists fled. The flames of the wooden structures, no longer being fed, began to die as a— Sample complete. Ready to continue?