by T. C. Edge
And far more deservedly.
Merk's room was simple and well appointed with sufficient distractions to keep him busy. He didn't tend to venture beyond it too often, only usually leaving to use the bathroom or stretch his legs a little as he wandered around the upper floors of the villa. He'd spent his time reading when in his room, and sometimes speaking with the servants when out of it. He'd found Master Domitian's prime attendant, Claudius, to be a tough nut to crack, a very smart and rather serious man whose face rarely displayed much emotion.
Another, Silia, was a different matter entirely. Merk found the young servant-girl to be a delight, and couldn't deny that she reminded him a little of his daughter. It wasn't her appearance so much as her energy and smile. Merk's beautiful girl had been bestowed with a spirit that was so pure, so innocent. Silia appeared the same, her soft brown eyes so sympathetic and her laughter, when it came, like soothing music to Merk's ears.
It was Silia who'd been tasked with attending Merk's needs, bringing him food and water and, if he wanted it, wine. Of course, the old man had been polite in accepting any such bounty, and didn't want to overindulge for fear of being rude. He'd therefore taken to only having a single cup of wine each night, despite a firm desire to have some more. After all, it was a rather useful method of self medication to help calm his frayed nerves.
Master Domitian, of course, told him it was nonsense. The first night Merk came here, following the cull, he'd been told to drink and eat as much as he wished. He'd spent more time with the Prince that night than he could ever have hoped for. They'd sat on the balcony overlooking the training yard, Domitian eager to hear all Merk had to say about the series of events that had led him onto the sand.
Merk, at first, was careful to not speak too disrespectfully about the Empress and the soldiers under her charge, but the Prince was quick to dismiss any such reservations. In the end, Merk told him everything, and was assured right then and there that everything would be just fine.
He was told to relax, to drink and enjoy himself, and shown the comfortable room he now occupied. And though the Prince had come to speak with him since, and had even invited him for the odd drink in the main villa, he'd spent the majority of his time since then alone, in his room, hiding away from the world.
He was there now, of course, his eyes glued to a book and his cup of wine for the evening all but completed. There was a little bell beside his bed that he could ring to fetch Silia's attention. He'd considered doing so in order to get a top-up, but despite being told several times that he was fully entitled to do so, resisted the urge. As a servant himself, albeit in a different capacity, Merk didn't wish to distract Silia from her more important functions, and already he'd been taking up too much of her time with his desire to have some friendly company here.
He sat back on his bed, more comfortable than any he'd ever known, laid his book down upon his lap, and shut his eyes. Behind his lids, he thought once more of the sea. He opened his nostrils, as if drawing in the salty air. He imagined the constant swaying, the creaking of wooden boards down in the ship's depths. There was comfort in the incessant movement of the water. Sometimes, when all was silent and still, he felt oddly vulnerable.
As he sat in the darkness, thinking of the ocean and those creaking wooden boards, one particular groan rose up a little louder. This one wasn't in his mind and memories, but just off to his right. Even before he opened his eyes, he knew the door was being opened.
With a slight jump, he shifted his position on his bed and his eyelids parted. His experience here had taught him one thing - everyone was utterly polite and courteous. His door, he knew, would never be opened without someone knocking first. His initial reaction was that of fear. Had someone come to kill him?
The thought flashed through his mind, but quickly dissipated as he drew in the sight of red hair and green eyes standing before him. The sudden pacing of his heart quickly slowed, and a frown took the place of his brief show of panic.
"Kira..." he murmured.
She didn't stop in the doorway, but moved straight into the room with a hurried step, and gently shut the door. She glanced around, as if to see if there was anyone else there, and took another pace in Merk's direction, closing the gap between them. Though Merk saw her as a friend, her shifty actions gave him cause for concern. He drew back a little on his bed, checking her frame to see if she had any weapons concealed within her light tunic.
"What are you doing here?" Merk stammered.
Kira's gaze now came right to him, and didn't deviate. Her emerald eyes were lit with purpose and haste.
"I need your help," she said quickly.
Merk relaxed just a little. He nodded.
"Of course. Anything. What can I do for you, Kira?"
Her eyes hardened further, and her voice dropped low. She leaned forward in a secretive manner.
"I need you to help me escape," she said.
56
Kira looked firmly into the old man's eyes and saw the change her words brought. They'd appeared cautious when she entered and understandably confused. Now, they were hiding behind a frown, and beginning to dart around all over the place.
"Escape? No...no I can't do that."
He shook his head and pulled a little away from her on his bed. She didn't have much time to waste. She needed to convince him quick.
"I know what's happening with you, Merk," she said. "You're famous down in Southside, but you still can't leave. The Empress has it in for you, just like she does me. You'll never be safe in this city while she rules. You need to escape with me."
Merk huffed and shut his eyes, as if hoping she'd be gone when they opened.
Kira reached forward and gripped his arm. He flinched at her touch but didn't pull away.
"Merk, listen to me," she said firmly. "I'm going to be killed when I next step into the arena. I have no choice but to try to get away. It's the same for you. Domitian can't protect you forever..."
Merk's chin was now dipping up and down in a nod rather than a shake.
"He can," he said, as if trying to convince himself. "He's a Prince. Of course he can."
"Merk! Listen to me," growled Kira. "Stop being naive. You're in grave danger here, just as I am. And you can help us get away, I know you can."
She glanced around at the door as a set of footsteps paced by. For a moment a silence fell as they faded off into the distance. She turned back.
"I don't have much time," rushed her voice in a tight whisper. "Please, Merk, you have to help."
"I...I can't. I can't betray Master Domitian, not after all he's done for me."
"And what about all I've done," said Kira, her voice flattening out and her eyes suddenly stern and staring. "I saved your life in the arena, and more than once. You owe me, Merk. You owe me a life debt, and are honour-bound to help."
Her words caused the change she desired. They were her trump card, and she'd used them wisely. She knew Merk to be an honourable man, and that honour would force his hand.
He went silent for a few moments, grappling with the dilemma. Yes, he did owe Kira, but how could he betray his Master? How could he...
"Merk, listen to me," Kira went on, knocking the final nails into his coffin. "You don't have a choice here. I understand you wish to serve Domitian, but you're alive because of me. And trust me, you won't live long in this city unless you help me, and escape too."
She looked deep into his old, greying eyes, and saw the gears turning. His lips were being drawn back into a pained grimace, revealing his crooked teeth. He let out a grunt, and shook his head.
"Even if I helped, I don't know how I could," he said. "I'm just a sailor and caretaker. I don't know anything about this stuff."
"Then learn fast," said Kira quickly. "You're a smart man, I can tell. And you wish to return to the sea, right?"
Merk's mind turned again to the ocean, the wide expanse of blue, the peace and natural beauty. He could be free out there. He could be safe. A small, wistful
smile lifted on his lips.
And Kira knew she had him.
"Look, I have to go. They're waiting for me. Just...think about it, Merk. Work something out, OK. And do it fast. I'm relying on you to fulfil your duty to me. Do you understand?"
Merk's eyes had lost their doubt. He nodded now with more solidity.
"OK. Thank you, Merk. Thank you so much. We'll speak again soon."
She turned, and darted straight back towards the door, leaving the old man with a great deal on his mind. The conversation was brief, and necessarily so, but Kira had got an impression of Merk that convinced her he was the man for the job. In fact, he was the only option available, and she prayed that his honour and desire to escape the city himself would see him join her side.
She didn't complicate things with any mention of Gwyn, or Finn. She didn't really know how, or when, she'd next be able to communicate with him. She didn't know whether or not he'd be able to form a plan to help, and if he did, whether they could see it through.
But what she did know was that she trusted him, and she trusted her own instincts. He was a man who wouldn't speak out against her. He wouldn't rat on her to Dom or Rufus. He would battle with the predicament long into the night, but in the end, he'd come down on her side. Because as she said, he was honour-bound to do so.
She had saved his life several times, and now it was his turn to save hers.
She quickly reached the door without turning back, took the handle in her grasp, and gently pulled it down. The wood creaked as she opened the door up, her senses ensuring that the coast was clear in the corridor before she stepped into it.
Turning to shut the door again, she caught sight of Merk in deep contemplation, before pressing it closed as quietly as possible, and moving straight down the corridor into the large living area. She straightened herself out as she went, removing the clandestine look from her face, and quickly hurried back towards the lavishly adorned sitting room, heading for the cups of wine she now needed to refill.
Then, a voice came from right behind her.
"Got lost, did you?"
She froze, set a smile to her face, and then spun to see Rufus standing there alongside Claudius, a white file in the old attendant's hands. The instructor's narrow eyes demanded a quick response. Kira considered only one course of action - the truth. Or, part of it, at least.
"I just went to see Merk," she said. "I wanted to see how he was doing."
Rufus' expression didn't change. He took the file off Claudius and walked silently forward.
"That wasn't permitted, Kira," he said when he reached her. "You don't have the authority to go wandering around the villa."
She nodded hurriedly and dipped her head in apology.
"Sorry," she said. "It's just...after the cull and everything you said about Merk, I was keen to talk with him. Like you say, he's growing famous now, and so am I. I just wanted to get his perspective."
She remained as casual and contrite as possible, and began refilling the two cups.
"Would you like some water?" she asked.
Rufus shook his head.
"And...if I was to go and speak with Merk right now, would he corroborate this story of yours?"
Kira's heart was close to going wild, but she managed to keep her pulse steady. She knew that Rufus had similar gifts to her. She could often tell if someone was lying by the physical changes their body went through in such a state. A sudden change to ones heartbeat was often a telltale sign.
As skilled as she was at identifying liars, however, she was equally proficient at hiding the signs within her body. She had total control over herself when she needed to. And right now, she really did.
She picked up the wine cups.
"Of course," she said calmly. "We just had a very brief chat. I knew I couldn't wander off for too long." She smiled and saw his narrow expression relax a little. "Look, I apologise, OK. I'm sure Dom will be all right with it."
"He would," Rufus nodded, "but it's in his character to be trusting, especially concerning beautiful girls like you, Kira. He has a weak spot and it's my duty to defend it. Now just make sure you don't go wandering off again, OK? We have too much work to be doing here, preparing you for your next fight, and you don't need any distractions."
Kira put on an expression and show of body language to tell him she completely agreed.
"You're right. Is, um...is that what I think it is?" she asked, looking at the file in his hands.
"Well, what do you think it is?"
"Tomorrow's schedule?"
"Quite right. Come along, Master Domitian is waiting."
Following behind, goblets of wine in hand, Kira began tracing Rufus' step through towards the stone stairs at the rear of the villa. Her eyes rarely left the file in the trainer's hands, her nerves now beginning to flutter and, quite naturally so. Were Rufus to focus and detect such a thing, there would be nothing incriminating about it. After all, Kira had every right to feel anxious at a time like this.
She knew, of course, that it wouldn't be her stepping into the arena again. At least, she hoped that was the case. With Empress Vesper, it seemed anything could happen, though she felt some confidence that her popularity among the crowd would serve to give her at least a bit of recovery time before being thrown back to the lions.
Though they were probably looking forward to see her fight once more, they wouldn't take kindly to the treatment she was receiving. As Dom had said, they'd seen the Empress' disgruntled face gracing the big screens during her bout, and were now wise to her grisly intentions for the warrior girl they so favoured.
It was more a concern for Gwyn that she had. She hadn't fought now since the inaugural bout of the games, and Kira was certain that her next fight would be imminent.
However, a new thought began to filter into Kira's head that she didn't like, and quickly dismissed. It was a selfish thought, one that whispered away in her subconscious, suggesting that losing Gwyn now wouldn't be the worst thing. That escaping alone, with only Merk in tow, would put a cap on the possible things that could go wrong. The more people who were involved, the more chances for screw ups there were.
It was a symptom of her life to think in such terms. Though she was heavily involved with the rebellion in Haven, and oversaw a number of spies and scouts, she primarily operated alone. Taking responsibility for others while in the field wasn't something she was used to, and working as part of a team was a fairly alien concept.
It had happened, of course, but not often. When she was stolen from the city, the war, which had been simmering beneath the surface, had already begun to spread and spill over. She was therefore involved in more direct fighting, and was operating with two friends, Brie and Zander, when Dom and his men came and kidnapped her. That sort of situation, however, wasn't normal for her. Mostly, she was a lone wolf out there, and that's just how she liked it.
So, the thought was a natural one based on her experience, and her instincts to survive. Escaping alone might be easier, but then again, Gwyn could well be useful too in providing another set of augmented eyes and superior ears. Usually, she'd weigh up someone's worth, and then determine whether to operate with them, or alone. Kira was always thinking of the odds, her mind highly rational and logical when it came to such things.
But, she'd made a promise, and that wasn't something she'd ever go back on. And despite her natural predilection for working alone, she had other instincts too that were just as powerful. The pull to help others, to see them safe. She'd spent her life doing so, and certainly wasn't going to stop now.
So as she reached the roof, all such selfish thoughts were abandoned, and she looked once more at the file, worried that it might contain Gwyn's name. The chance of Finn fighting was less of a concern given he had his first bout the day before, but he still entered her thoughts as well. As far as she saw it, the three of them would leave this place together.
Dom swivelled as they came, turning his gaze from the city that stretched away from t
he roof like a dark night filled with stars. Those stars, now, were multi-coloured, lights of red, blue, green, yellow, and all sorts of others littering the many squares as the festivities continued.
He had a strange look on his face when he turned his eyes towards them. It was one of melancholy and nostalgia, a wound opened by his recital of the stories of the past, when the city was great, and the Empress too. Kira knew he loved this place, or what it once was. His fondness was so clear, and yet his heartbreak was too.
He looked at the file in Rufus' hands, and then at the wine cup in Kira's. He chose to take the wine first, and drew a sip.
"You found the bathroom OK?" he asked her.
She nodded, ignoring the slant of suspicion in Rufus' eyes.
"Good. Now shall we find out what the form is tomorrow? Please, Rufus, do the honours."
The instructor looked at Kira again, perhaps now considering her presence here inappropriate. Dom clearly knew what the man was thinking, and waved it off.
"It's fine. Go ahead."
Rufus did so, opening up the file and withdrawing a sheet. His eyes spread down the list, and Kira watched on nervously. Then he passed it to Dom, and spoke.
"Looks like they have a day off, Master Domitian," he said as Dom perused the sheet.
Kira tried to take a look, but didn't have the angle.
"A day off?" she asked.
Dom slipped the sheet to his side.
"Not unusual at this point in the games," he said. "There are some minor bouts in place, but none involving us here."
Kira let out a breath of relief.
"You were never going to fight again so soon anyway, Kira," said Dom. "No need to be so relieved."
"I suspect it's not for her sake, Master Domitian," said Rufus, inspecting her. "She's got friends down in the cells now."
"Ah yes, of course. Finn."
"And Gwyn," murmured Rufus. "The two have been fairly close ever since the cull."
"Understandable," said Dom. "Well, Kira, neither are fighting tomorrow, so rest easy. Remember, the games are set to last a month, so the schedulers need to manage their resources carefully. The better fighters are beginning to stand out, but shouldn't meet on the sand until the latter stages."