The Warrior Race Trilogy BoxSet

by T. C. Edge

  "Looks like we've got an audience," Finn remarked. The joviality of his tone was gone, replaced by a tremor of disquiet.

  The same was true for the others. It was as though the stories and rumours started by the bandits had come true. Even Merk, author and instigator, shuddered as they went, a shudder working up his spine.

  Maybe the rumours were becoming real. Maybe the place really was haunted...

  It was an absurd notion, and he knew it. Yet fears of the unknown didn't always adhere to logic or reasoning, and the coming darkness would only weaken the old man's resolve.

  They stopped in the shadows of a great tree, the plan to get their bearings. Merk told them that his use was largely spent now, his knowledge of these particular lands as good as anyone's.

  Finn looked to Gwyn.

  "Guess it's over to you," he said, referencing her sense of hearing. More and more, he was starting to take charge, his head clearer than the rest and state of nervousness holding a little firmer.

  She retook the lead, and they continued on, stopping several more times so she could listen. The engines were cut off on each occasion, a deep hush spreading through the woods. The more profound the quiet, the better she could work. Merk and Finn barely breathed if they could avoid it.

  Several times she tried, and several times came up short. Then, she picked up the sound of the river Merk has spoken of, and they followed her to the source. It wasn't loud or violent in its flow, nor particularly wide. The casual descent of the landscape, shaping from north to south, created a meandering brook that was little more than a wide stream, trickling shyly through the forest as if frightened of drawing too much attention.

  Upon the banks, they stopped again, the evening now coming on fast.

  "Was this spring near the river?" asked Gwyn.

  Merk shook his head, frowning.

  "I don't think so. The river is more along the western edge of the forest. I think the spring's in the east."

  "So we head east?"

  "I guess so."

  That was the state of things. They were guessing, and little more, and a tension was bubbling between them. By all rights, Merk should feel quite safe, accompanied by these two gifted gladiators. And in woods, too, that were known to be unoccupied and, other than the snakes they'd encountered, not called home by any particularly fiendish animals.

  But, it was the irrational sensation of fear that drew up in him nonetheless, and had seemed to creep upon the others too. The growing dark, and the eerie trees, and the birds and beasts, watching as they went, had altered the complexion of things entirely. It was like a different forest from that of the south, as though crossing to the north had led them into another world.

  And Merk didn't much like it.

  But on they went, now stopping more regularly as the bikes chugged gently in the still air. The hoots of owls began to join the silence, and the scuttling of small mammals and insects rustled through the leaves, bedded down on the forest floor.

  The light was now being gobbled up entirely, and the torches Merk and Finn had in their bags were withdrawn. They shone through the lurking trees, spotlights casting weird and ominous shadows upon the forest floor. Shapes of ghouls and beasts took form before the lights were swiftly moved elsewhere, the shadows disappearing back into the darkness.

  Merk found himself huddling closer to his allies, both when atop his bike and when stopping for Gwyn to listen. They chugged and rustled along slowly now, the headlights of their bikes enough to bathe the path ahead in a stark glow. And when they stopped and shut off the engines, the lights went too, and their torches were drawn up again.

  For Gwyn, the suffocating gloom wasn't a hindrance, her vision working easily through the blackness. She continued to assure the others that everything was just fine, and that there were no ghosts and spectres hidden in the growing mist.

  She'd scan the way ahead, constantly searching for some sign of life, and when stopping to listen would shut her eyes and let her ears do their job. Let the sounds of the forest fill her mind, searching through the clutter for the distant trickle of flowing water.

  As yet, they'd had no luck. When they came upon a small glade, freeing themselves temporarily from the claustrophobic network of trees, Merk suggested that they stop and bed down for the night.

  "We'll resume our search in the morning," trembled his voice, eyes always scanning the trees around him. "We can't do much more in the dark."

  It wasn't true, not for Gwyn at least. Day or night mattered not to her. The only factor in halting her search would be her state of focus and concentration, which was now being partially disabled by her weariness.

  Merk looked to Finn for support, and the boy shrugged.

  "It's not the worst idea. I'm pretty tired..."

  His voice was interrupted by Gwyn's lifting hand. It raised up, cutting his words short. Her eyes narrowed and then drew shut. A silence fell, at least for the others.

  But not for Gwyn.

  A gentle trickling sound grew in her ears, percolating and spreading until it became clear as a bright blue day. She kept her eyes closed, but began turning her head just a touch, scanning for the source and its exact direction and rough distance. She stopped, smiled, and opened up her eyes.

  The others watched, breath imprisoned in their lungs. They released the flow as she spoke.

  "I can hear it," she said. "There's a small stream up ahead." She pointed out of the glade in a northeasterly direction. "Right up there. Sounds like what we're looking for. Water dripping into a still body."

  "A spring," whispered Finn.

  "Exactly."

  "And how far?" asked Merk.

  "Distance is hard to gauge," said Gwyn. "It's difficult to be precise, but I'd say it's about five hundred metres away."

  "Wow," said Finn, nodding his approval. "You can hear a gentle trickle from that far away?"

  Gwyn shrugged.

  "If I concentrate hard enough, yeah." She looked around the group. "So, I guess we go take a look?"

  Finn nodded hastily. Merk's agreement was more begrudging.

  And climbing onto their bikes, they continued on their way.

  97

  As Merk, Gwyn and Finn were slipping through the dark and daunting woods, Kira was marching around the upper floor of the villa, her mind in a jumble.

  The afternoon had passed in a blur, owing much to her lack of sleep and the constant harassment of her thoughts. Having completed her job on Thunderjaw, she'd reentered the cells beneath the arena to wait out the day as the other two bouts took place. Oom, third up, stamped out and returned not long after, a coating of blood upon his armour and dripping from his lips, little shreds of ragged flesh caught between his mighty teeth. Kira didn't even want to ask just how he'd taken out his opponent.

  They'd been taken back to the ludus straight after, Claudius returning to do the honours. Kira pounced upon him as soon as he appeared in the cells, forgetting in that moment that Dom's disappearance was supposed to be kept secret.

  "Have you heard anything?!" she asked. "Do you know where he is?!"

  Claudius shook his head calmly.

  "Our men are still trying to ascertain the truth, Kira," he said. "They are tracking him in Southside."

  The news wasn't what Kira had hoped for. She slumped down onto the bench in the cells, Oom watching the display with a quizzical slant to his colossal brow.

  "You speak of the master?" he asked. "He's sick, yes?"

  Kira shook her head.

  "No, Oom," she said. "He's..."

  "He's just fine," cut in Claudius. "Never you mind, Oom. I hear you performed very well out there today. You must be proud?"

  His diversionary tactics had the desired effect. Oom's attention was quickly turned to his fight, which he went on to describe in all its gory detail.

  Kira wasn't listening, however. Her mind was elsewhere, and it stayed there as they returned to the ludus within the carriage, Oom immediately transported down to the cel
ls and Kira walking straight for the top floor of the villa. The guards manning the door didn't stop her. It appeared her presence there was now accepted.

  She'd been up there since, washing herself clean and stripping out of her combat armour. Silia had come to collect her gear for the laundry and bring her food, the two entering into a brief discussion about Dom's likely fate. Kira had little compunction about speaking plainly with Silia, who she assumed must have been quite aware of the situation.

  It turned out, she wasn't up to speed on the details, though had her suspicions given Dom's absence.

  "Oh no, that's terrible," she'd said as Kira brought her into the fold. "Four guards dead...and Master Domitian missing." She shook her head violently, as if trying to expel the notion. "What are you going to do?"

  "Me?" asked Kira. "What can I do?"

  "Use your powers to find him," said Silia, as though it was the easiest thing in the world.

  Kira had, of course, considered it, but only very briefly. She didn't know the city, and she was a slave. Only with Claudius' permission and help would she be able to get out of the villa, and something told her the old man wasn't going to give it.

  "There are people out there looking for him," said Kira wearily. "Nothing I can do from here."

  Silia clearly noted Kira's enervated and jaded state. She chose to change tack.

  "He'll turn up," she said, smiling. "No one is going to actually harm a prince. Whoever's taken him is probably just doing it to bargain with the Empress. It'll all blow over soon enough. He'll be back home. You'll see."

  Her chirpy demeanour was entirely manufactured and Kira knew it. Still, she appreciated the positivity.

  "Yeah, you're probably right," Kira muttered, turning to the window and gazing out over the yard. The silence that followed had Silia slipping away, leaving Kira to wallow in her thoughts.

  Those thoughts were darkening, and spreading now to consider the bigger picture. She went through best and worst case scenarios, and before her mind was fully overcome by a desperate need to sleep, mustered her sense of rationality and logic and searched for a solution.

  Yet whatever avenue she went down, whatever rabbit's hole she plunged into, she always returned with a sinking feeling that her time was set to be up. Whether Dom returned or not, his kidnapping had altered the shape of events, and cut short their plans to discover a way to assassinate the Empress. Time was becoming Kira's enemy once more, and the hastening of the tournament, speeding it towards a conclusion, meant that, even after winning today, she'd be back in the arena in no time at all.

  In fact, she was now fully aware of the schedule, and was set to fight in her quarter final this coming Tuesday, only two days away. Tomorrow, the final three bouts to determine the last quarter finalists would occur. The likes of Shadow, Tomahawk, and Jaeger would be in action. Then Tuesday would come, and Kira's quarter final would take place, stepping out to fight someone she'd have little chance of defeating.

  Oh, she'd been informed of the draw now, and barring some miracle, knew just who'd be lying in wait.

  Tomahawk.

  The man who Lucius had placed as his second seed was considered a remarkable specimen. Hailing from the lands to the far south across the narrow sea, he was close kin to Rufus, his skin dark and body plastered with a staggering array of glistening, magnificent muscle.

  Kira had recalled seeing him during the pre-games celebration, standing centrally among Lucius' stock, right beside Jaeger. He was tall, fabulous looking, hailing from a stark and desolate region of rugged mountains and tribal warfare. If accounts were to be believed, he'd killed several of Lucius' men when they tried to capture him, his accuracy with his throwing axes, and startling speed catching them off guard.

  He sounded as though he had similar gifts to Kira: Tremendous velocity, an outstanding sense of sight and smell, an accuracy with throwing weapons that rendered him a fierce threat in ranged combat. They were skills that were naturally given, though built and perfected during his time as a hunter and warrior in lands considered barbaric and brutal. If he were to have been picked up by Dom instead, the rumours went, he might well have been his first seed ahead of Shadow.

  The idea made Kira quiver. She'd seen Shadow's speed firsthand, and had faced off against him before. If this man was his equal, or even superior, then Kira's chances of winning would be slim to none. So far, she'd come up against threats that suited her, and even Redmane fell into that category. Yes, the conditions in their contest were stacked in his favour, but his power set wasn't one to trouble her like others would. Extreme pace, or some otherworldly ability like that exhibited by Finn, would be her undoing. It seemed that Tomahawk had the former, if not the latter. And who knows what other surprises he may have in store.

  So as that Sunday night pressed on, so did Kira's thoughts about just what she should do next. She'd promised Rufus that she'd aid Dom however she could, yet it was becoming apparent that, perhaps, her duty had been rescinded, if not by her own doing. If he didn't return soon, the game would be up. She'd be marched out to the arena to meet her fate, and now, alone, she had to make a decision.

  It was a simple choice, really - stay or go.

  She knew of the secret passage. She knew that, at its end, her friends would be waiting. She knew, too, that escaping the villa would at least present her the opportunity to sneak back into the city, head for Southside, and search for Dom herself. He was the only thing keeping her here, but now he was gone. So, really, there was no sense in her staying any longer.

  The thought solidified, and became an idea. Then it morphed into a plan. She'd give it the night, and consider things again the following day. If Dom hadn't returned by then, she'd have no choice but to escape, head off down the passage and then rethink things once she was free of the games.

  She nodded to herself, her plan set. And relaxing, she dropped into a comfy chair and fell asleep.

  The marching of several sets of heavy boots lifted Kira from her dreams. Her eyes snapped open just as the door was pressed aside, several guards stepping into the dim library to find Kira cuddled up upon her sofa.

  "What's...going on?" croaked her voice.

  Thoughts turned quickly to Dom. Has he been found? Is he OK?

  She leapt to her feet, and the guards kept on coming. The manner of their step was aggressive and hostile, none of them speaking as they grabbed at her arms and began dragging her from the room. She had barely a second to catch up before she was in the corridor, then being hauled down the steps, wondering just what the hell was going on.

  They passed a couple of servants, watching from the shadows. A clock came into view, telling of the hour. It wasn't yet midnight. She'd barely been sleeping at all.

  Silia came rushing from down a passage.

  "What's happening?!" she called out, looking from guard to guard. "Where are you taking her?!"

  Still, no answer came.

  Kira struggled in their grip, but it wasn't of any use. She looked upon the faces of the guards and recognised them. They were men from the yard, the cells, the compound. They were Dom's men, his loyal protectors.

  Or were they?

  Kicking out, Kira continued to be unceremoniously manhandled, drawn straight to the ground floor as Silia followed in her wake, asking what was going on and telling Kira it would be all right.

  Kira imagined that, with Dom now gone, her protection was too. These men were loyal, yes, but that only stretched so far. The Empress had demanded Kira be handed over. She was set to be taken to be tortured and killed.

  Of that she was entirely certain.

  As they kicked through the door and brought her into the yard, her eyes immediately went for the gate ahead. To her surprise, there was no carriage, no cohort of Imperial Guards waiting to escort her. There were, in fact, no guards there at all, save a single man wandering casually out in the distance, doing his rounds within the courtyard.

  The men at Kira's flanks stopped abruptly. And then, finally, a v
oice came.

  "You don't need to be so rough with her."

  Kira looked to her right, and found Claudius walking towards her beneath the moonlight.

  "You..." she whispered. "You're working for Vesper..."

  Claudius frowned and shook his head.

  "Kira, I must apologise for this," he said. "I didn't mean for it to happen so violently, but I needed to catch you off-guard. I'm sorry if it seems abrupt."

  "What are you talking about!"

  She struggled again, her mind flaring wildly. A brief bout of writhing was quickly suppressed as more hands reached out to lock her in place.

  "I'm taking precautionary measures," said Claudius. "I fear, given certain, um, developments, you need to be returned to the cells where you can be properly guarded. I've considered your position at length, and feel I know your mind. I'm quite certain that you will try to escape this ludus before your next fight. It is the most logical option for someone in your position, who has the rare freedoms you do. Unfortunately, Kira, I cannot let that happen. I am responsible for this household right now, and thus need to ensure that all gladiators are safely under lock and key. We cannot have any further break-outs, as occurred with Finn and Gwyn..."

  "Break-outs! You know what really happened, Claud!"

  Claudius lifted a placating hand.

  "Be careful with your tongue, young lady. You are merely reacting because your liberties are being expunged. However, you must remember that you are here as a gladiator, and you have no rights to any preferential treatment. I'm sorry, but I can take no risks. You will be returned to the cells, where you will remain until your fight on Tuesday afternoon."

  He looked to the guards and nodded.