The Warrior Race Trilogy BoxSet

by T. C. Edge

  Claudius nodded and led Kira away and out of the room.

  "He won't wake for some time," he said. "Silia will apply the necessary ointments to speed his recovery. In the meantime, Kira, I trust you'll stay up here and cause no fuss. Master Domitian has clearly lent you his trust, so I must too. It would be wise to remain upon this upper floor for the time-being."

  "I had no intention of going down," said Kira. "I know I'm still a gladiator, and can't exactly wander around the compound."

  "Yes, and don't you forget it. Your position here is predicated on your survival in the arena. I know that Rufus wished you to aid Dom in his struggle, but you have your own to consider too. The longer you stay alive, the longer you can help Master Domitian. Do you understand my meaning?"

  "Well...I guess. It's pretty clear, Claud."

  "Excellent. Now I must be away."

  Claudius began to move off down the corridor. Kira hurried after him, stopping him before he ambled too far.

  "Oh, I've got a couple of other questions actually..."

  Claud turned gracefully and peered at her.

  "Yes, I'm sure you do. Let me answer before the asking." Kira frowned. Claud went right on. "You wish to know, firstly, what's happening in Southside, yes?" He didn't wait for Kira to nod. "Well, that remains information passed to you by way of Master Domitian's discretion. It is not information I'm able to divulge without permission."

  "I didn't..."

  Claudius raised a hand.

  "Now, onto the more important enquiry in your mind. You want to know if I have tracked the location of the author of 'The Man Behind the Mind', Cicero M. Herma."

  "Well? Have you?"

  Claudius lowered his chin.

  "I have located certain details that may be of interest," he said. "Specifically, a last known address of the man. Whether he's still there remains to be seen."

  "That's...great!" said Kira. "Where's the address?"

  "Never you mind. I don't want you getting any smart ideas now that you know the location of Master Domitian's secret passage."

  Kira lifted her palms in a show of honesty and utter sincerity.

  "I promise, Claud, that I'm not going to go running out of this villa on a whim. It would cause too much upset over at the palace, no doubt, and I'm not about to create any more problems. I assume it's in the city? This address?"

  Claudius considered matters for a moment, the subject of Kira's fidelity under question.

  "Indeed," he said finally. "Down in Southside, close enough to the trouble to be dangerous to pay a visit to. I'd rather Master Domitian didn't get any ideas himself about going there..."

  "Claud, you can't keep this from him. Why would you tell me if..."

  "I'm not going to keep it from him, Kira," cut in Claudius. "I serve my Master in whatever manner he requires. I can only advise him on the decisions he makes, not make them for him. But, I'll be sure to tell him that a wild goose chase to track down this author will not serve him well. It is a waste of time as far as I see it."

  "Well, let's hope Dom isn't so myopic," mumbled Kira. Her words were clearly heard, drawing a stern look.

  "I would advise you to keep your mind on your own task, Kira," he informed her. "You are set to battle in the arena this coming Sunday. That is only two days away."

  "So it's official?" Her voice was hurried, her emerald eyes widening.

  "It is," said Claudius. "This very afternoon, several contests are set to get underway to fill the final seedings on Master Domitian's side of the draw. Tomorrow, the tournament will resume in its new format."

  "Right, so no more guesswork then?" asked Kira, relieved.

  "No, the guesswork is over for the most part," said Claudius. "This is hardly my forte, but I've been around long enough to know that the final stages tend to clear things up a bit. And, given the shortened format, you should know who you're facing, and when, from here on out."

  "Well that's something then," sighed Kira. "Small mercies, hey Claud!"

  "Quite. So I reiterate my point - you are to fight for your very life upon the sand in a matter of days. It would serve you well to make that your entire focus."

  "Hmmmm, well thank you kindly for your advice, it's much appreciated. However, as you say, this isn't your forte. I know how to prepare for a fight, Claud."

  "Well I do hope so, young lady. I would hate for you to come unstuck through a simple lack of preparation. Anyway, I must attend my duties. I shall speak with Master Domitian when he rises. Please do not enter the room unless permitted by me to do so."

  Kira agreed by way of a slow-blink, and Claudius made a swift retreat.

  It didn't take long for Kira to disobey Claudius' ruling.

  For a little while, she retreated once more to the library as the doctor did his work. By the time the man had departed, however, Kira was itching to see his handiwork. Dom had a fine figure, and to have his back so mutilated would be an awful thing. She waited until he'd left before creeping back towards his bedchambers, and slipped right through the door.

  She found Dom as she'd left him, lying face down upon the stretcher which was itself set on the table. Both had been stained by blood, and the floor had been served up a helping too. It appeared that the medic had no fondness of tidying up after himself, no doubt leaving the mop-up job to Dom's servants.

  She ventured closer, turning her eyes over Dom's frame. His back was bandaged, though lightly, the dressings looking as though they could be set and removed without too much difficulty. It was likely a necessary feature in order to apply the healing lotion, which would see his wounds speedily restored to good health, leaving behind what Kira hoped weren't overly unsightly scars.

  Quite why it bothered her she couldn't really answer. With everything that was happening, a few superficial blemishes weren't important at all, no matter what state Dom's back ended up in. It seemed of little consequence, really, and yet she still spared it her caring and concern.

  Peeling away the dressing, she laid her eyes upon the result, bracing herself as the mangled tapestry came into view. The picture wasn't a pretty one by anyone's standards, each long lash stapled tight and leaving behind a web of stitches that covered the majority of his flesh. Some of the cuts were shorter than others, but none came out any less than ten inches. Whoever had administered the horrific treatment was clearly an accurate hand, and skilled with the whip.

  The flesh was inflamed, but by the looks of things the lacerations were mostly straight and cleanly drawn back together. A couple curved a little, and where they'd criss-crossed over his skin, it looked like the scarring might be a little worse. But, all things considered, the doctor appeared to have done a decent job. Kira had seen enough poorly sutured gashes and cuts in her time to know that.

  As she began returning the dressing to its rightful spot, the door creaked. She looked over to find Silia entering, her arrival unnoticed by Kira's senses and further proof of her distraction.

  "I'm not sure you're meant to be here, Kira," said Silia. "Claudius said you should stick to the library."

  She had a mop and some cleaning tools in hand, ready to bring the bloodied room back into sparkling form.

  "Sorry, I just wanted to see his back."

  Silia's eyes swung back to the entrance. She took a step back and kicked the door shut.

  "Go on then, let me see," she said.

  She paced forward, and Kira pulled the dressing away once more. The poor slave-girl was almost overcome by what she saw, her sensibilities far from Kira's and quite unable to endure the view.

  She stumbled back, dropped the cleaning tools to the floor with a series of dull thuds, and covered her mouth as if shielding the upcoming vomit. Mercifully, none came. Though not for lack of trying.

  A few dry heaves were all her stomach managed, before she regained her balance and shook her head.

  "Cover him up," she said. "It's awful!"

  Kira raised a brow.

  "I'm not sure Claud picked the right p
erson to apply his healing lotion," she mused. "You're not squeamish by any chance, are you Silia?" she smirked.

  "Well...not usually. I've seen plenty out in the yard over the years. But that's grim. And it's Master Domitian, so it's worse. Will he be OK?"

  Kira now assumed the role of chief pacifier, just as Claud had with her.

  "He'll be fine. There'll be some scarring to be sure, but you know, sometimes that looks good on a man."

  "Yeah, a thin scar above the eyebrow or on the forehead can be quite dashing, sure, in a devil-may-care sort of way. But that! Kira, no...that's not a good look for anyone."

  "Perhaps not. But let's not go getting all negative about it, hmmmm. What if he woke up and heard you?"

  "He won't do that, will he? Claudius said he'd been out until this evening at the earliest."

  Kira shrugged.

  "You never know. Anyway, I probably shouldn't be here, like you say. I'll leave you to it."

  "So what you working on?"

  The question came from Silia before Kira could slip from the room. She stopped at the door.

  "Working on?"

  "Yeah," shrugged Silia, gathering up her mop from the floor. "You're in the library for a reason, right? Are you taking on Rufus' role or something? It's terrible what happened with him. He was such a nice man."

  "He was. And...no, I'm not. I'm still a gladiator, Silia."

  "Oh, I know. I just thought you might be helping to form strategies and stuff, for yourself and the others. No?"

  "Erm, no," said Kira flatly. "I don't have any friends down there to help. Not anymore."

  "Right, yeah," said Silia, shaking her head. "I can't believe everything I've been hearing. I mean, Merk helping Gwyn and Finn escape. It makes no sense, and leaving you behind. You were friends with them as I understand it?"

  "I was. Still am."

  Silia smiled and nodded.

  "Yeah, I knew there was something more to it. You know what happened, don't you? That's why you're here, with Master Domitian. You're all planning something, right?"

  Kira stepped towards the young girl. It wasn't a threatening move, rather one of secrecy and silence.

  "Silia, it's probably best you don't think too much about this. It could get you in trouble."

  "Trouble? So there is something going on."

  Kira laughed.

  "Well, of course. You think I'm going to take this place lying down. I'll do all I can to survive."

  "And so you should," smiled Silia. "So what is it? What are you working on?"

  "You don't give up do you?"

  "Not easily. You don't have to tell me, if it's a secret and everything. But, I hope you'd trust me. I'd never betray Master Domitian. Or you."

  "And I believe you. But really, there's not much to tell. As you say, I'm just looking for strategies to win the Imperial Games, that's all. Nothing too interesting."

  "That is kinda interesting, Kira," smiled Silia. "Um...sorry, that's not insensitive is it? I know this is your life here..."

  "Not at all. Don't worry about it. Just, er, do your duties and keep your head down. That's the safest thing for you right now."

  Silia's head bobbed, and her eyes fell to the floor as she began her mopping. Kira glanced at her as she moved to the exit, and smiled as the young girl began to hum sweetly as she worked. She was under threat and she didn't even realise it. Here, under the patronage of a kind and generous Prince, you'd think you'd be mostly untouchable.

  Yet in truth, this particular villa was one of the more perilous places this side of the Tiber. And the less a girl like Silia knew, the better it would be for her and everyone else.

  89

  The remainder of the day took on an anxious feel, with Kira's mind split now between several avenues that each demanded her attention.

  Oddly, and though it should, by rights, have been her primary focus, her upcoming bout wasn't at the forefront of her mind.

  Perhaps it was hubris, or just a simple explanation of self-confidence, but she felt quite certain that fighting against Lucius' sixth seed would not be a problem. As Dom had rightly told her, she'd defeated Redmane, and in hugely unfavourable conditions to boot, so overcoming some relatively lowly and unfancied fighter wasn't a top priority among her growing list of anxieties.

  Instead, her mind lingered on the future, and the bouts that would follow, not only upon the sand, but in the wider scope of the city at large as well. Kira had grown up as part of a rebel force, a simmering uprising that had only recently exploded into life when she was stripped from her home. It was thus ingrained in her to feel some attachment to such strife, whether across the ocean where she belonged, or right here in this strange, foreign land.

  Try as she might, she couldn't help but become sucked into the plight of the poor people of Southside, and while here she'd do all she could to rid this place of their tormentor. Kira had lived in the shadows, the dark and filthy alleys, ever running, ever hiding from a ruthless and callous tyrant. Here, their suffering was no different, and Kira knew full well how the people would be feeling.

  She was quite aware of the strange irony of the matter. She might even consider it fate, during a more romantic imagining of the turn her life had taken, that she'd been brought here to aid in the freeing of what was, objectively, a great and powerful city. She was a gladiator, who'd fashioned herself into a secret freedom-fighter, and was now operating side by side with the Prince of the city to see it relieved of its tyrannical ruler. Who, of course, just happened to be his mother.

  Irony. Fate. However Kira looked upon it, it was a rather improbable circumstance that she found herself in the thick of it all, and so much so that thoughts of her own war were now starting to dwindle. Her part back in Haven was important, if not critical in the pursuit of victory. Take her away, and her rebel cause would go on as usual. At least, she certainly hoped that to be the case.

  Here, however, she'd somehow found herself even more centrally located. Again, her impact might be minimal or significant, a truth that would only be revealed in time. Yet whatever the case, she was growing intimately involved with the son of the Empress, plotting alongside him to see to his mother's demise and, in doing so, help lift the man atop the throne.

  Were she to succeed, she could call herself the 'Kingmaker', and return home with some wild tales to tell. And, if the stars were in good, cooperative spirit, and decided to truly align, perhaps she could, one day, look back upon her youth and say that she aided in the freeing of two great cities, separated by a vast ocean. That she swept across the globe and saw tyrants to the grave. And in doing so, she could rise far beyond the status of champion here in Neorome.

  She would attain a higher rank, and sit on the threshold to the stars, alone.

  It took Dom time to wake, during which period Silia came and went, her light step pattering up and down the stairs and corridor outside of the library in which Kira dwelled. Several applications of ointment, at regular intervals, appeared to be what was needed to speed the Prince's recovery. Silia would certainly have to harden to the sight of his wounds in order to carry out her function, a matter that had the girl poking her head around Kira's door on one occasion to help.

  It wasn't active aid she required, but a dose of moral support. Kira also suspected that Silia's inquisitive mind was seeking further evidence of just what she was up to. The shape of her eyes, rolling around the various books opened out on a table in front of Kira, was proof enough before she even spoke a word.

  "Ah, Polus..." she whispered, glancing over the open sections of the books, all of which centred on the old, legendary telepath.

  "You know him?" asked Kira.

  "Of course. Everyone knows him. Or, about him I should say. I never knew him personally, obviously. I wasn't even born when he was around!"

  "So what's your take on what happened?" Kira asked, always keen to get another opinion on the matter.

  Silia shrugged.

  "He was banished, right? That's wh
at I read somewhere, although it was a long time ago."

  "So the history books say. Other accounts suggest otherwise."

  "Like what? He wasn't banished?" She nodded to herself. "Killed. By the Empress. Yeah, that would make sense too."

  "But you don't think so?" queried Kira.

  Silia frowned and shook her head.

  "No, probably not. But then...who knows."

  She wasn't a good source, Kira quickly concluded. She nodded and smiled politely and sent her eyes back down to the latest passage she was sifting through. Mostly, she was doing so now to pass the time, rather than expect to find anything of particular note.

  "Well, I'd best be getting on with it," mumbled Silia, set to attend to Dom's back.

  She was nervous, and delaying. That was plain enough to see. Kira lifted her eyes again.

  "Need any help?"

  The offer seemed to galvanise her.

  "No...no it's OK. You get back to your reading."

  She wandered off, and didn't return again until much later that evening, when the sky had shut its eyes and the blanket of night had fallen. Kira had spent the hours in a bit of a jumble, her mind constantly wavering and refusing to settle. She needed Dom up and running again. She needed his support.

  "He's awake," said Silia. "He's asked for you."

  Kira shot to her feet.

  "He's up? How is he?!"

  "Wounds are getting along nicely," said Silia. "It wasn't so bad in the end, after the first go. I'm always amazed by what these creams can do. He'll scar, obviously, but not as badly as it could have been. Anyway, he's quite drowsy but wishes to see you. Try to ensure he stays calm if you can."

  They moved down the corridor, and Kira slipped into Dom's bedchambers as Silia waited outside. He'd now moved over to the bed, though remained lying on his front to avoid further discomfort to his back. He arched his eyes around as Kira entered and quietly shut the door.

  "Oh...hey," he smiled. "How's the hunt?"

  A strange grin of relief poured out from her, and she moved swiftly to the side of the bed. His question was ignored. Her palm reached out and worked through his curls of warm brown hair, his chocolate eyes cloaked with the remainder of the sedative in his system as they gazed up at her, half absent.