The Warrior Race Trilogy BoxSet

by T. C. Edge

  "Right, all done," smiled Kira, releasing him from the suffocating armour. It dropped to the floor and he quickly got to work on the rest, ending in his tunic which was sweat soaked and stained from so many hours locked tight beneath his armour.

  Before moving towards the shower, he stopped.

  "You know...I'm sorry if I'm being cold," he said. "It's not how I want to be. It's through necessity."

  Kira nodded hurriedly.

  "You don't have to apologise, Finn. Not at all. I'd say it's right to be a bit frosty. But, I'm here if you want to talk. Like before."

  His body faded a little, as if he wanted to stop the charade. Kira didn't make it easy for him with the soft, inviting look she set to her face. Then she remembered herself and hastily withdrew, moving back towards her alcove where Gwyn continued to hide.

  "How's he doing?" she asked, looking at Finn as he disappeared towards the shower.

  Kira glanced at him again too. And with firm conviction, she said, "Good."

  43

  "Right then, Rufus, let's see what we've got."

  Dom sat on the balcony of his residence, looking over the training yard. Night had now fallen, and the place was quiet and empty save for the perpetual presence of the guards stationed around the compound. Another goblet of wine found itself in his grasp, and a huge serving plate filled with meats, fruits, and breads had been laid out on the table before him.

  Unless feasting at an official dinner, this was the manner in which Dom liked to eat. He considered himself a grazer, and would prefer to snack than indulge in large meals. As far as he saw it, doing so went down better with wine. And when it came to consumption, wine was his priority.

  Ahead of him, his instructor sat, fitted as always in his training armour, sparsely decorating his staggeringly lean frame. His skin shone almost purple beneath the moonlight, and his teeth glinted a pure white from behind his lips. His posture was unlike Dom's, who sat back, relaxed and weary after a long day. Rufus remained upright, his cup filled with water and nothing more.

  Dom had often tried to get him to join him in his drinking, but found the task impossible. The best he'd managed was a simple promise. Rufus would take a drink with him when, and only when, they found another champion. That enough was sufficient motivation for Dom to widen his search.

  Before Rufus, a small file sat on the table. Claudius, Dom's main attendant, had just received it from a messenger to the residence, He'd gone ahead and passed it to Rufus, who had just joined Dom on the balcony. It was the same set up each night.

  The instructor took up the file and opened it. He drew out the simple sheet within and ran his eyes down it. Dom watched his reaction with a keen eye, and saw a slight frown.

  "What is it?" Dom queried. He knew something would be up. This was clearly it.

  "Redmane," said Rufus, reaching across and handing Dom the sheet.

  He took it up and looked down the schedule, listing the following day's bouts. His eyes passed by the names of Oom, Shadow, Tomahawk, and Jaeger, who all had their own fights arranged through the day. They moved right to the bottom, to the final bout of the day, and saw the name Rufus had just uttered.

  Redmane.

  Dom shut his eyes slowly and let out a sigh.

  "I knew it," he whispered, shaking his head.

  "This is your mother's doing," suggested Rufus.

  "Yes. I knew Lucius was up to something when I spoke with him. Though, this is more about her." He took a long breath again, and let it out slowly. "Do you think Kira's got a chance?"

  Rufus took a moment to answer.

  "Well, you did originally rank her as your third seed. And Redmane is Lucius' number three. Seems like a fair fight to me. That's probably what Empress Vesper is doing, is it not? She perhaps realised that moving Kira to the cull was the wrong move, and has decided to reinstate her to fight against Redmane instead?"

  Rufus could be quite naive sometimes, Dom mused.

  "A fair theory, and one that might make sense if we were talking about anyone else. But we're not. We're talking about my mother. She's doing this because she has a grudge against Kira, nothing more..."

  "And can you blame her?" asked Rufus. "Kira was quite provocative when your mother came to observe. And, she did save Merk's life too, against her wishes. That sort of defiance isn't something your mother takes lightly."

  "Yes, I'm quite aware of my mother's mind, Rufus," said Dom. "And, you've just abandoned your theory right there, my friend. You know full well that she's doing this to make sure Kira pays. I'm just surprised that Merk hasn't been included somewhere, some lamb for Tomahawk or Jaeger to slaughter."

  "I'm not sure that would go down too well with the public," said Rufus, always keen to keep his finger on the pulse regarding public opinion. It was another weapon in his formidable armoury that Dom appreciated.

  "And what's the word on that?" asked Dom.

  "Well, it appears that Merk has quickly grown into something of a cult hero. Naturally, the poor are particularly fond of him, standing up to that gladiator as he did. They see him as standing up to the Empress too, and with things as they are, it wouldn't be wise to force him back into the arena. He'd only be slaughtered, and that could risk some sort of public revolt. Southside is starting to simmer, Master Domitian."

  "I see. But it's been like that for quite some time, Rufus. Oh, and I say it every time, call me Dom when we're alone." He snatched up an olive and began nibbling. "The games always distract them long enough to forget their troubles for a time. I don't see it as being any different this year."

  "Well, might I suggest, Dom," coughed Rufus, as if struggling not to give him one of his more official titles, "that you take a journey to Southside yourself. It is getting worse each year, I can assure you. Merk is fast becoming a symbol of their distress and resentment, defying the Empress, defying death. She cannot kill him, and she knows it. But...Kira is another matter. She is a gladiator, and so putting her against Redmane isn't surprising at all."

  Dom was nodding. Rufus was far more than just an instructor. He was a fine thinker too, particularly when it came to the politics of the games themselves. His regular jaunts to Southside, under Dom's instructions, to better understand the people had borne considerable fruit over the years.

  "Yes, I see," he said. "So, the good news is that Merk is safe. For now, at least. But...Kira not so much. My mother can pit her against just about anyone, so long as she doesn't bend the rules of the games too much, and the public won't have much to say about it. Is that fair to say?"

  "A good summary," said Rufus. He reached over and took the schedule again. "It seems they're building it as some sort contest between the two red-heads. Redmane vs the Red Warrior. It'll be enough to get the crowd excited. I suppose that's why they're leaving it for last." His eyes scanned the other bouts once more. "Yes, none of the other bouts will be great contests. Oom and Shadow will have no troubles at all, and nor will Lucius' men. It's smart, actually, if you look at it objectively. The final fight should be excellent."

  Dom swigged his wine. He needed it more than ever.

  "Right," he began, setting his cup back down. "So Shadow and Oom require no coaching, you say?"

  Rufus considered it again.

  "I don't think so. They shouldn't have any trouble."

  "OK then. Go immediately down to the cells and fetch Kira. We need to take her through things immediately."

  "Bring her...here?" asked Rufus. "You wish to contribute, Master...um, Dom."

  Usually, unless Dom was particularly interested in getting involved, Rufus would join the gladiators down in the cell to coach them. He'd done just that with Finn the previous night, taking him through his paces down in the dungeon. To bring a gladiator to the residence for such business, and to be involved himself, was quite rare.

  "Bring her here," Dom repeated. "This is an unusual situation, Rufus, and I may need to help explain it to her."

  Rufus bowed and stood, before striding grace
fully beneath the archway to the main residence.

  Kira had eaten her full of the gruel they often served here for rations, and was setting herself up to get some rest. With the return of the other, less intimidating gladiators, Gwyn had seemingly found the courage to creep back to her patch across the dungeon, leaving Kira alone.

  She sat there, her augmented hearing listening to Finn sleeping down his own little passage. By the flow of his breathing, he was locked away in a fairly fitful sleep, his heart still rattling along at a pace. Kira was all too aware that, for someone like Finn, killing a man in the arena, even if he had to do it to save himself, wasn't an easy thing to do.

  He'd put on a good front, but he couldn't hide the physical reactions of his body no matter how hard he might want to. Kira knew full well that he was stressed, frightened, and angry all at once. Yet on the surface, he appeared so placid.

  As she sat there, contemplating things, she heard the gate open and searched forward to see Rufus appear in the cell. He came down at a similar time each night to announce the next days' events and, if required, pass on some pearls of wisdom to whomever might be fighting.

  He marched forward, eyes searching down each passage before landing and stopping on Kira.

  "Ah, there you are. Come here."

  Kira frowned.

  "Come on now, quickly," said Rufus, his voice hasty.

  Kira's expression didn't change, but she did get to her feet. She joined him in the main area of the dungeon. Other than Oom, who found it hard navigating his colossal frame down the narrow passages, all other gladiators were hidden away. The giant, meanwhile, had taken up residence by the far wall, sitting down with his tree trunk legs spread out before him. He looked on curiously.

  "What's going on?" asked Kira, wondering why Rufus wasn't talking to Oom and Shadow. Surely it was their turn to fight?

  "Master Domitian wishes to speak with you," said the trainer. "I'm afraid you're back in action tomorrow."

  "You're kidding. What about him." She looked at Oom, who was smiling at her with his giant, tablet sized teeth.

  "Yeah, him too. And Shadow," said Rufus. He turned to the room, and called out. "You hear that, Shadow? You're fighting tomorrow. Get plenty of rest."

  An icy hiss seemed to emanate from one of the passages. It was enough to know that Shadow had got the message.

  "You too, Oom," added Rufus. "You ready?"

  "Me, ready?" grunted Oom, his voice sending a tremor through the cell. "Oom always ready to fight."

  Rufus raised his eyes and looked at Kira.

  "Right, shall we?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "Of course not."

  "Then forget the niceties. Let's go."

  With a wry smile lifting on Rufus' face, the two began moving through the gate, up the stairs, and out into the yard. Kira's face was greeted by a cool sweep of fresh air and the aroma of fresh food and pleasantly pungent wine. Her eyes worked up to the viewing balcony, where she could just about see the shape of Dom's head from the back, glossy brown curls dancing with a shower of moonlight.

  Continuing through and into the main residence, she passed the lower floor and began moving up the stairs. She'd been here once before, after taking that beating from Shadow, and the place still brought a bitter sting. The memory was ignored and, up into a lavish open plan living area she crept, spotting several servants on her journey. She recognised several, not least the pretty, olive skilled girl who brought her food during her brief stay here. She knew her name to be Silia.

  Another, Claudius, she'd learned was Dom's main attendant. He sat, placid of face, at a desk, working through files and doing some sort of accounting. Then, last of all, down a passage, Kira was sure she caught sight of Merk. He was sat on a bed, reading a book, and looking as if he truly didn't want to leave the room.

  Last Kira had seen of him was after they'd returned to the compound after the cull. Merk had been shipped quickly into the residence, and Kira had returned to the cells. She'd heard muted chatter about her and Gwyn being invited to the villa to enjoy a celebratory drink with Dom, but that plan had never materialised. Clearly, there were other things to be done in the household.

  She had wondered just what would become of Merk following that night. The idea of saving him, for him only to be tossed back into the arena, wasn't a palatable one.

  As Rufus led the way, she found herself impulsively calling his name.

  "Merk the Mighty!" she shouted.

  Merk's eyes lifted immediately and somewhat fearfully. On seeing her, however, he seemed to relax. A smile hovered onto his lips, and he half stood, before seeming to doubt himself and stopping. He sat back down as Rufus appeared at Kira's shoulder.

  "Best leave the old man alone, Kira," he said. "He's confined to his room for now."

  "He's living here then?"

  "Temporarily. Master Domitian wishes to keep him under watch for his own protection."

  "Right, yeah. The whole psychotic, murdering Empress thing. I guess she'll kill him first chance she gets."

  "That is of concern to Master Domitian, yes. Now, it's not for you to worry about. Come on, right out there."

  They continued quickly towards the balcony, where Dom sat with goblet in hand. He stood at Kira's arrival, the sort of thing you should do when a lady enters the room. Kira, technically, didn't require such a courtesy. She was a slave, after all. Yet Dom couldn't help it. He stood on instinct and smiled upon seeing her.

  "Ah, Kira," he said. "Please do take a seat."

  Kira was ushered towards the table by Rufus, and took a seat between the two of them. She gazed upon the range of fruits and meats on display and suddenly felt the urge to vomit up her gruel and fill herself up with this more appetising selection. Her gaze wasn't missed by Dom.

  "Please, feel free to eat to your heart's content," he said. "There's wine too, if you'd like some."

  As Dom picked up the flask, ready to pour a cup, Rufus reached across and shook his head.

  "Not a good idea, Master Domitian. She needs to be clear-headed for tomorrow."

  Dom remembered himself and set the flask back down. His designs for a drinking companion were thwarted once more.

  "Right, so I'm fighting tomorrow?" said Kira, looking between the two men. She caught sight of the yard too, quite different from this vantage, and a fine view beyond and across the large courtyard within the compound behind. She could count a dozen soldiers just within the immediate vicinity. With Gwyn's talk of escape, she couldn't help but do some minor scouting.

  She was snapped back out of it by the loud placement of a cup before her. This one had water in it, instead of wine.

  "Unfortunately, yes, you are fighting tomorrow," said Dom. "Your behaviour so far towards Empress Vesper is probably to blame, I'm afraid to say."

  Kira rolled her eyes.

  "Yep. Thought that bitch had something to do with it."

  Rufus' expression went haunted. He looked at Dom, who merely shut his eyes slowly and smiled.

  "Er, sorry," muttered Kira. "I know she's your mother and everything. But damn that woman..."

  "Kira!" snapped Rufus. "You mind your tongue. You are speaking with the Empress' son, and a prince. You will be respectful at all times."

  His glare was enough to burn through stone. Kira found her tongue sticking firmly within her mouth. Only Dom's rumbling laughter broke the silence.

  "Now, Rufus, it's all OK. Kira doesn't understand the customs of this place. Give her a free pass this time."

  "I will, Master Domitian. But next time..."

  "If he's a prince, why call him Master Domitian? Why not Prince Domitian?" asked Kira suddenly.

  Rufus was taken aback.

  "Are you questioning things again, Kira!" he bellowed.

  Once again, Dom's soothing voice calmed him.

  "Please, we have no time for this," he said. "And, it's a fair question, Kira. But for another time." He smiled.

  She shrugged, quite possibl
y taking the entire situation too lightly.

  "So, who am I fighting then?" she asked casually. She knew it wouldn't be Shadow or Oom. Perhaps one of Lucius' top two seeds? If Vesper wanted her revenge, that wouldn't be the worst way to get it.

  Dom looked to Rufus to answer.

  "You'll be fighting a man named Redmane," he said. "You may have seen him during the pre-games celebration.

  Kira thought back. She'd seen lots of gladiators that night, though a man with a name like Redmane wasn't likely to be forgotten.

  "I remember," she said, the light tone of her voice now shading darker. "He's a giant. Red hair and beard." Her eyes had started to craft into a frown of concern. She wasn't joking anymore. "So, you're here to tell me what he can do?"

  "More," said Dom. "We're here to tell you how to defeat him."

  44

  The day was typically glorious. The end of summer in Neorome could always be counted upon to deliver a stretch of fine weather that was rarely interrupted by clouds or rain. The sky was clear, the air crisp. For those in the stands and watching in the many squares beyond the stadium, it was a perfect day to witness some killing.

  There was an excitement in the air. The fourth day of the games was usually accompanied by it, given the top seeds were set to fight for the first time. The crowd were eager to see what they could do, yet this year there was something more at play that increased the chatter through the city.

  Overnight, and through the morning, word had gotten out about the final fight of the day. The Red Warrior was set to fight again, pitted against a beast from the north, red of hair and white of skin. It was the sort of match up that the masses would expect in the latter stages of the tournament. For them to witness such a contest so early was a hugely pleasant surprise.

  Betting had been fierce that morning. The bouts that included the top seeds were paid little mind, the odds far too unfavourable to consider a flutter. Instead, it was Redmane vs The Red Warrior that garnered all the attention. And through the city, both opinion and betting were split.