by T. C. Edge
They’d begun training again, and all looked rather exhausted. Dom knew that Rufus would have been pushing them harder today than even yesterday, and with Lucius turning up, he’d have wanted to put on a good show. The crack of his whip, constantly cutting the air, made quite sure that all the trainees were on their toes.
“So, who’s your favourite then?” asked Lucius, sipping and watching and still smirking. “I’m assuming it’s the man in black who you’re seeding at number one?”
“I haven’t decided yet, to be quite honest with you, Lucius.” He was trying to maintain some mystique, and was quite aware that his rival was, whatever he said, impressed by Shadow. It would be impossible not to be, bias be damned.
“That’s a ‘yes’ then,” said Lucius. “I’ve heard good things about this giant of yours too. Bit clumsy, though, isn’t he?”
Dom drew an exasperated breath.
“Large men usually are,” he said flatly. “We’ll see how he gets on when the time comes.”
Lucius smiled. Dom wasn’t giving anything away. The hazel-eyed man sent his eyes back to the trainees, and made a few more remarks about different men, trying to draw a reaction. Dom maintained his poise like a trooper, so practiced as he was at dealing with his rival.
Then, Lucius pointed to Kira.
“I have a red-head in my ranks too,” he said. His voice was a little colder than before, less artificially playful. “Though, mine is a man, of course. Big red beard, long red hair. He’s quite the impressive sight, I have to say. Looks like you chose your red-head for a different reason…”
Dom’s poise faltered just a little. He turned his eyes from Kira to the man by his side.
“What are you getting at exactly, Lucius?”
“Oh, nothing really.” Lucius’ voice brightened again. “Just that…you have a penchant for red-heads, do you not?” His hazel eyes went dark, and his expression fell away. The two men stared at each other for a moment. It was Dom who flinched first, moving his gaze back to the yard.
It was the primary source of their animosity, right there. Dom should have known that Lucius would pick out Kira above all. Because really, it was he who had a thing for red-heads. It was he who’d fallen in love with one.
And it was Dom who’d stolen her away…
He sucked in a breath once more and then turned back to Lucius with a pulse of regret running through him. He felt bad for what happened, all those years ago. To this day, he wished it hadn’t occurred, wished he knew the full truth of the matter before he acted.
He hadn’t realised Lucius loved the girl. He hadn’t realised quite how much he’d hurt his friend.
He opened his mouth to apologise for the hundredth time. Then he closed it and turned again to the yard. He knew full well by now that those apologies fell on deaf ears. His relationship with Lucius had changed beyond all repair, and no matter what he said, there was no changing it back.
For a few moments, the two men stood together in silence, lost to their thoughts, lost to the past. Then, as Dom set out to break the tension, a scuffle broke out down below.
His eyes spread to the left of the yard, where Shadow had been engaged in some swordplay in one corner. A few paces away, Raven was doing the same, and with Rufus now directing matters on the other side of the square, the man had seemingly decided that now, above all, was a good time to get some measure of revenge.
Dom didn’t know just what started it. Perhaps a sly word from Shadow, or just a sly look. Perhaps it was nothing more than the build up of hate, bubbling up over the course of the day, Raven so keen to exact some punishment on the man who’d snapped his leg in two.
He was fully mended now, of course. There were special healers in this city who could quite easily tend to such things. Yet, while his bone may have set, there were scars to his psyche that clearly hadn’t healed. For men like him, warriors and soldiers and mercenaries, pride was a big deal. To have been so soundly beaten by another man was something he clearly couldn’t stand for.
Dom didn’t see how the brawl began, although was acutely aware that Raven must have been the guilty party. He did, however, see its conclusion.
With their wooden swords discarded to the sand, the two men were throwing punches. Raven’s style was one of fury and pent up anger. Shadow’s movements were smooth, calm, completely collected. Both were blessed with superior speed – though the day’s heat and exertions had somewhat drained their batteries – and they fought with a rapidity that no normal man could possibly compete with.
As Rufus came rushing over with his whip, ready to end things, Dom heard a voice right next to him heave into the air.
“No! Let them fight!”
It was Lucius, his eyes bright and eager for blood. Rufus stopped in his tracks and quickly looked at Dom. Dom gave a little nod, and Rufus stood down.
It was a mistake.
The other trainees quickly moved in and gathered close. The guards stood by, watching intently. In the middle of the sand, Raven flung arms and legs and bellowed to the heavens. Shadow glided like the wind, avoiding every blow, toying with the man.
And then he ended it.
As Raven stepped in, panting heavily, Shadow swung around his back and caught him in a choke-hold. And before anyone could stop him, he slipped his arms up over his head, and twisted violently to the left.
A loud crack filled the air, followed by a shriek. And from the watching crowd, a girl with flaming hair flowed forward, charging straight at Shadow as Raven stood in his arms, head fatally twisted backwards.
Shadow’s eyes lifted, and lit up at the sight of the incoming girl. He loosened his grip, and Raven fell to the sand in a heap, his head rolling around unnaturally atop his body.
It all happened so fast, and Kira was suddenly upon Shadow, darting at him with her blows, a fury and pure hate in her green eyes.
Dom stared, and from his lungs a bellow rang loud across the yard.
“STOP!”
It was enough to quell Kira’s charge. She skidded to a stop in the sand, and both she and Shadow turned their eyes up to the balcony. Dom stared down at them, and one of his contenders lying dead in the sand. His instinct had been right about Raven. He was never going to cut it here.
A silence filled the square, deathly, all consuming. And then, quietly, a voice came from his side.
“Maybe I was wrong,” Lucius whispered. “This Shadow of yours, he has something.”
His eyes grew hungry as they passed to Kira.
“And this red-head too,” he continued. “She hates him. Oh she hates him so…”
He turned to Dom with a query in his eyes. The rest of the square was completely silent and still. Only the two lanistas on the balcony spoke, their conversation private, though not hidden from all ears.
“Where did you get them?” asked Lucius.
“Haven,” said Dom after a moment’s hesitation.
“Ah yes, Haven, all the way across the world. There’s a rebellion on there, or so I understand. I wonder…are these two on opposing sides?”
Dom suspected he already knew. He nodded.
“Well, how very interesting,” went on Lucius, his voice oozing malice. “How about a private bout between the two of them. Let’s see who comes out on top.”
Dom shook his head.
“You’ve just made me lose one of my contenders.” His voice was empty. “I’m not about to lose another.”
“Contender? That man?” laughed Lucius, gesturing towards Raven’s dead body. “He wouldn’t have lasted a second on the sand and you know it. Anyhow, not a bout to the death, Dom. What do you think I am? Just a friendly fight to see what they’ve got. It’ll be fun. A fight for Haven, right here, just for us. What do you say?”
Dom shook his head again. He prepared to speak, but Lucius’ voice cut straight to his ear, darker now.
“You owe me, Dom,” he growled. “Let’s see how your red-head gets on.”
It was more an order than a request.
Were it anyone else, Dom would deny him. But, his guilt remained steadfast, ever after all this time. He sighed, nodding slowly, and acquiesced.
“Fine,” he said. “Have it your way.”
And, as he always did, he searched for a silver lining and quickly found it. It would be a good opportunity to see what Kira was made of, and a good chance to better determine her seeding.
So, looking over the square, he called for the body of Raven to be removed, and for Shadow and Kira to line up before him. The rest of the occupants of the training yard stood back, and the two competitors took position in the middle.
“Give them swords,” he called out. “Wooden.”
Rufus came forward and handed them their weapons. Kira looked confused as to what was going on.
“Master Lucius here has requested a bout,” Dom called out. “You will fight until one is unconscious or seeks mercy. If you wish for mercy, kneel to the ground, bow your head, and lift your index finger into the air to submit. No killing, no broken bones, no serious injuries. This is a friendly bout and a test of skill. Shadow, Kira, face each other. On my call, the fight will begin.”
The combatants turned to each other on the sand, ten paces between them. Dom prayed that they’d follow the rules he set, and glanced at Rufus with a stern look. His instructor understood. He’d be ready to step in if needed.
And with a hush falling, and a sense of anticipation building, Dom’s voice rang out into the square.
“Begin.”
20
Kira stood ahead of Shadow, her heart-rate bursting, her chest pressing at her breastplate as she filled her lungs to the brim.
She took a second to compose herself, rein in her anger. But how could she? How could she not hate this man, this emotionless slave, this agent of chaos. She’d just watched him snap Raven’s neck as everyone else just stood and watched. Where she came from, that sort of thing didn’t stand. Her sense of duty, as much as her loathing for the man, had forced her to act.
She hadn’t expected this, though. Her brief brawl had suddenly mutated into something more organised. Up on the balcony, the young man who looked so similar to Dom, Lucius, clearly had a lust for blood today.
She didn’t like the way he looked at her. She didn’t like the shape of his face, or the curve of his eyes, or the sneer of his mouth. She didn’t like him at all.
Around her, the rest of the trainees had retreated to the sides, and she noticed Finn staring at her with an expression of concern. She didn’t like that either. He didn’t need to be concerned for her. She didn’t want that sort of negative attention.
She forgot him, and forgot everyone else. And as Dom called, “Begin,” she felt her hand grip tighter at the handle of her wooden sword, and her weary body fill with a fresh dose of adrenaline.
She hoped it would be enough.
The day had, after all, been long. She’d struggled to grow used to her new clothing and armour, the heat relentlessly oppressive. The sun had gone, and the clouds had gathered, and all that had done was make it worse. Sticky air wrapped her up tight, and the entire yard had filled with a blanket of humidity that had brought a terrible ache to her head.
But now, she cast all that away. This was her chance to mete out some justice, to take herself home for at least a while. Here, ahead of this Stalker from Haven, she’d think only of her war, the fight for her city. Nothing else mattered right now.
For the first few moments of the bout, nothing happened. Shadow stood, tall and detached, draped in his black robes and armour. He was waiting for her to make the first move, she knew that full well. So she decided to do the same, and a short stalemate began.
Up on the balcony, the man called Lucius was getting restless. Kira read him like a book: a spoiled brat, some rich aristocrat who always got what he wanted. It gave her a new appreciation for Domitian, making her thank the heavens that it had been him who’d captured her, and not his rival.
It was an odd thought to have really, mentally debating which would be the better kidnapper…
“Come on, get to it. I don’t have all day!” called the brat.
Kira looked up and spotted Dom suppressing a smile. He even dropped her a tiny little wink, as if to say, “Keep this up, let’s piss him off.”
She was happy to oblige until Lucius’ voice rang out again.
“Dom, what the hell is this?! Have you only gathered a herd of frightened sheep? Fight, goddamnit!”
This seemed enough to goad Dom into action. He looked down again at Kira and Shadow.
“Enough delaying,” he said calmly. “You heard Master Lucius. Give him a good show.”
Kira’s eyes swung back on Shadow. She took a pace forward. He didn’t move. She took another, and still his posture remained fixed in place. Her sword lifted, his hovering by his side, and she closed the gap further.
When she was only a few paces away, the sky burst with a sudden crack of thunder. It rumbled down across the yard and through the city, and all eyes instinctively lifted to the heavens as the first drops of rain began to fall.
But not Kira’s. And not Shadow’s. They only had eyes for each other.
The thunder was like a bell to begin the bout. As it faded away, and everyone’s eyes lifted, Kira decided it was time to act. She mustered her speed and flung herself forward, swiping with her sword across Shadow’s neck, one of the few areas on his body that was partially exposed.
The tip of the wood grazed his skin, drawing a faint line, but nothing more. He leaned back just enough for her to miss full contact, and he drew up his own blade and swung it in retaliation. Kira saw it in time, lifted her sword, and stopped his swipe with a cloud clunk just before it connected with her head.
And so the bout began in earnest.
The speed of Shadow’s movement was enough to take Kira off-guard. From that cool, detached pose, he exploded with a vicious flurry of blows and strikes that had her reeling. He’d lured her in as he desired, and the sudden contrast from his calm posture to furious barrage was shocking, even to someone of Kira’s experience.
Stepping back, her super-sight was forced to work to the max, just about catching his attacks as they came from high and low, right and left, slashing and prodding and exploding like a violent volcano. And with it, the wind seemed to pick up, the sand swirling around at her feet, kicked up as the two combatants engaged. And the thunder boomed in the heavens, cracking the sky in half, following behind the lightning as it zigzagged down in electric blue and white.
The trainees and guards around the square sent their eyes back and forward, scanning the sky and then back to the fight. The soldiers in particular, fitted in metal armour, knew better than to linger too long outside during a lightning storm. Up on the gallery, those with rifles retreated a little beneath the awnings. Down in the yard, the rest stepped as close to the walls as they could.
But Kira wasn’t aware of any of this. All she saw was the black form of her opponent, her enemy, swirling in a cloud of dust like a spectre materialising from a yellow fog. He moved with a speed that outstripped her own, his body half a blur as he built to a crescendo.
Kira grew quickly tired. On the defence, and unable to attack, what energy lingered in her body after a long, hard day, was quickly depleted. Shadow’s reserves must have been greater, his methods of energy conservation giving him deeper pools on which to call upon.
And so, as with Raven, Kira found herself quickly overpowered. Within what must have been only half a minute – although it felt so much longer to her – she was losing her grip on the bout, her first attack the only one she managed to deploy.
From that point on, he came at her like a force of nature, and she was caught in his whirlwind. He was built for the very purpose of hunting hybrids like her, a killer of killers, an emotionless machine with a single directive installed into his mind – to destroy.
She dodged and parried as best she could, but his power and pace were too great. Slipping, she fell backwards in the sand, t
he rain now falling in thick, fat drops from the sky. Her back hit the ground and punched the air from her lungs, and her sword-wielding arm connected fiercely, weakening her grip as the weapon – her only defence – escaped her grasp.
She arched her eyes up now, and saw him loom. Stretching, her fingers reached for the handle of her sword, and his lifted to the sky, ready to come down upon her head. The swords were wooden, yes, but thick and heavy and capable of dealing a great deal of damage. And in Shadow’s eyes, the desire – no, the need – to eliminate all those who opposed his real master lit like a burning flame.
In that moment, she knew that his mind had been lost to his purpose, to the reason for his very existence. He didn’t care about Domitian’s rules. He didn’t care about his warning. He cared only about settling a score, about destroying this rebel girl at his feet.
And with the sky cracking and rumbling, and the rain falling, and the trainees and guards and lanistas watching, Kira lay sprawled on the floor with her skull the target of Shadow’s wooded sword. His face and eyes showed hate, his detachment cast off, and his arm prepared to swing at such a speed as to crush her head right into the dirt.
And down it came, and across she reached to take her weapon, used now only in a manner of defence. And tightening her eyes, she snatched up the handle and pulled it across, her instinct only to prevent the blow.
But it never came. And not because of her.
Another crack filled the air, though this wasn’t thunder. It was fiercer, sharper, that of a whip that came slashing from the fog and through the rain-filled sky. Rufus stood, watching closely, primed and ready to act when required. And now was that time.
His aim was pure and true, and the tip of his whip keen. It hunted down Shadow’s wrist as his arm came swinging, coiling him up just in time and heaving his motion away. Kira shut her eyes, her own sword still to her side, her head undefended and exposed. She turned her face just as Rufus pulled his whip back, and Shadow’s wooden sword deviated.
It slid to the right of Kira’s head, though didn’t miss her completely. She felt a crack against her temple, the wooden blade swatting her as if being smacked hard by a baseball bat. Her brain rocked within her skull, tossed about as though in a tornado, and the veil of blackness consumed her almost immediately.