The Warrior Race Trilogy BoxSet

by T. C. Edge

  Still, Kira had entered into a place colloquially referred to as 'the zone'. She was running hot, seeing everything so fast and early, her senses concentrating entirely on Tomahawk and not to be undone by the tens of thousands of voices and scents spilling from the stands.

  It had become clear that Tomahawk had a set of powers very similar to her own. His eyes missed nothing, and even if they did, his hearing would speedily pick up her movement. His pace, a tremendous force of nature, appeared similar to hers too, the two spinning into a whirlwind of flurries and strokes as they moved around the sand, drawing a cloud of golden dust to the air.

  Yet a fear rose in her as they fought. A suspicion that he wasn't delivering all he had. That she'd entered fifth gear from the off, and he was ambling along in third. She'd worked through her repertoire of attacks, turning to the backups and counters when required, and as yet had done no more than nick his skin with the occasional cut. By now, her reserves of energy were threatening to wane, the top of the peak reached and nowhere to go but down.

  Yet Tomahawk appeared in full control of himself, yet to delve too deep into his reserves. Kira's usual strategy was to wear her opponents down and stay out of their reach until they tired, at which point she'd strike. She'd abandoned that strategy for a new one in the face of this enemy. And it seemed that Tomahawk was doing to her just what she did to others.

  And she was worried.

  It seemed as though the crowd were aware as well. Insightful and well informed as they were, they managed to get a sense of Kira's nerves and growing apprehension. She'd thrown all she had at her foe, but he'd kept on deflecting and avoiding her blows, rarely doing much himself to turn the tables and put her on the back foot. It had become evident to the people that The Red Warrior was running out of tricks. And Tomahawk's deck remained stacked full.

  With the crowd now growing nervous for Kira, she grew ever more worried for herself. A sense of panic was starting to creep into her attacks, a factor that would only leave her vulnerable as soon as she made a mistake. As yet, she'd been tight and systematic and extremely well organised, both when employing a particular attack or keeping her weak points guarded and secure in defence. Yet the longer it went on, with her endeavour going unrewarded, the more likely she was to leave herself open for a sudden, a violent strike.

  Tomahawk was graceful and gifted, moving beautifully around the sand. He didn't fight as his appearance might suggest, and operated much as Kira did. He swerved and weaved and danced all over, showing one side but not the other. Because he had more to give, so much more. And when he finally determined that the time was right, he'd unleash a more brutal dimension of his well rounded and vast repertoire.

  The crowd knew it, and they were waiting for it. A restlessness spread, and a flow of nerves came with it. They enjoyed what Tomahawk showed them, but their favourite was the girl draped in red, with her flowing locks of fire and eyes of emerald green. She was the one they wished to see progress. She was the one they favoured.

  And she, they knew, was the one who was about to die.

  Dom stared down to the sand, sensing the change taking place. Kira's attacks had slowed, and she'd begun to keep her distance. She appeared wary now, her best given and rebuffed. Even from here, Dom could see her frame starting to slump, the growing panic crafting a shape of worry to her eyes.

  His own breathing was becoming fierce, his eyes pained at what he felt was imminent. Tomahawk was stalking Kira now, walking towards her, around her, a fierce predator teasing its prey. It was a matter of time, only, before he unleashed what he'd been holding back. Kira had given it her all, but her luck, and time, within the arena had run out.

  He couldn't watch.

  But he couldn't look away either.

  He wanted to turn his eyes to the side, or shut them behind his lids. He wished that he hadn't raced here at all, doing nothing but bearing witness to this girl's death. This girl who had, so swiftly, taken up residence in his thoughts and his caring. This girl who he wanted to save, and who wanted to save him.

  The noise in the crowd was for her now. It rose and rose, her name being called as the people tried in vain to give her the support she needed. To prop her up, their collective will enough to see her win. A chant began, roaring out her title, spreading from the lowest tiers to the highest stands, right to the upper reaches where pockets of spare seats still sat, unoccupied.

  And Dom, against all protocol and accepted behaviour, found his own lips issuing her name. He did so only quietly, his voice drowned by the din, calling her true name and not that given by the evil witch to his right.

  "Kira, Kira," he said, trying to project his voice into her mind.

  And as he did, she suddenly turned, looking up towards him upon the balcony. He smiled on instinct, and let out a breath at the sudden contact between their eyes. And she did the same, the worry in her face smoothing out, replaced by a look of calm. She smiled, such a gorgeous smile, and Dom's heart raced faster.

  It lasted only an instant, before she looked away, her attention speeding back to her opponent. Dom tensed again as she flew back into action, fearing that he'd never look into her eyes again. He held his breath and gazed down, his hands gripping tight at his knees, turning his knuckles white...

  A sudden weight came down on his shoulder.

  He shuddered and turned to his right to find Lucius beside him. He had a sneer on his face as he gazed out upon the sand, before he bent down slowly, turning his head from his father's view, and changing his expression to one of support. His grin evened out, and the shape of his eyes mellowed.

  He looked Dom right in the eye and whispered, "Don't worry about Kira. It's all for show. I've made sure of it."

  He returned the sneer to his face almost immediately, before leaning back, laughing as though he'd said something conceited, and moving off to his seat behind his father. Dom watched him go, frowning in confusion, before swerving his eyes back down to the fight.

  He's here, Kira thought. Dom's come...

  The thought preceded the evidence, her head blossoming with a feeling that he was watching her, before her neck craned suddenly left and she saw him sat at the front of the royal gallery. His lips worked into a smile that warmed her, and she couldn't help but return the expression despite the situation. For a moment only, they shared a look. And then she went straight back to work.

  Imbued by a sudden energy, and with the crowd now chanting her name, she drew Tomahawk back into her sights with a renewed determination. Clenching her fists tight, she snatched up a full breath, dismissing her fatigue, and excavating deep in her search for energy. Her vitality was waning, but there was enough for a final flourish.

  It was time to do or die.

  She clattered forwards with her scimitars in hand, ready and willing to open herself up if needs be. She had one final trick to play, and that would be to attack with such speed and agility that Tomahawk couldn't keep up. To hack and slash him into submission or die in the attempt.

  She paid no mind to the odds or her likely chances of winning. She just acted upon instinct and impulse, forgetting her strategy and surging forwards as the roars grew and the crowd blurred once more before her eyes.

  She began the assault, the two fighters merging into a maelstrom once more, a thick formation of dust following them around as the shattering, echoing sounds of striking blades spread from tier to tier. She flew into a rage, flinging herself about in a fashion she never had before. And slowly but surely, she felt herself inching through his armour.

  A single cut slipped through, slicing more fully along his exposed upper arm. It drew blood and gasps, and Tomahawk moved back. Kira looked into his eyes and saw that strange milky quality, a formation of mist swirling about. It was odd. It reminded her of something...

  She continued on, attacking again. Tomahawk seemed stunned, his attention lost. His arm was weakened, stunting his defence along that flank. Kira quickly saw the opportunity and struck low, lacerating his thigh
this time and doing so deep.

  The blood spurted and pumped. Kira's hope swelled. The crowd fell into a state of delirium as she pressed forwards once more, slicing with an intensity she'd never delivered before.

  Tomahawk couldn't counter it, his wounds weeping blood and inflicting a greater injury to his focus. It was gashed deep, cut in two, his concentration eviscerated. Before he knew it, Kira was on him again, slicing elsewhere, cutting him down to his left and right as she zipped about him like a squirrel up a tree.

  It all happened so fast and beyond her expectation. She hesitated as her fearsome foe staggered and dropped, so shocked to have been defeated. He looked at her, bewildered, and dropped to his knees, his hands hanging loosely to his sides. Then a bemused chuckle rumbled through him and he looked up, high enough to reveal his open neck.

  "Finish it," he growled, his accent thick and strange.

  Kira didn't need to be asked twice.

  106

  The stadium was rocking wildly as Dom paced quickly down towards the cells, hurrying along as soon as the bout ended. He'd seen Kira do the impossible, rousing herself for one final charge and cutting Tomahawk down. He'd fallen to his knees, defeated, and lifted his neck. She opened it up without a second invite.

  As Dom ran, his body stiff and aching, his thoughts turned to Lucius. The two men had glanced at each other once more as Dom left the gallery, a tiny smile rising on Lucius' face as Dom passed by. And the eye contact was enough for them to communicate. Dom saw in his old friend's mind just what he'd done.

  He's saved my life, he thought. And now he's saved Kira's too...

  He couldn't be more grateful for that fact.

  Smiling now, he rushed down the stone steps and into the great underbelly of the Colosseum, the corridor ahead dimly lit and dusty. Stains of dark blood marked the way, most of them old but some fresh and new, no doubt coming from Oom's great body as he returned after his fight. Apparently, the giant had been deeply cut in several places, though none were life threatening.

  He reached the gate, ordering for the guards to open it up. They did so. Dom marched straight through and found Kira standing beside Oom, the giant sat up upon the bench and hastily patched up by the medics. With him sitting and her standing, they were almost at eye level.

  Both were smiling, a bond of kinship between them.

  "Kira believes," Oom was saying. "And Oom believes in Kira."

  The giant then turned his thickly muscled neck as Dom entered, dipping his chin in respect.

  "We win, Master Dom," he said. "We make the ludus proud."

  "That you do, Oom," said Dom, his face whipped into a frenzy of smiles and grins. He looked to Kira and felt a sudden weakness envelop him. He cared not what the guards behind might see or think. Not one bit.

  Casting off all etiquette and formalities, he surged right for the green-eyed girl and wrapped her into a tight, longing embrace. He felt her heart quickening within her chest, thrashing about as they pressed together, and her body trembling violently as they stood, silent, saying so much to each other without the use of words.

  They stayed locked like that for several long moments, before eventually they eased off and slipped away. Enough to let Dom look upon her face and lift his hand to sweep the tear from her eye.

  "You're back," she whispered. "I was so worried. I..."

  "It's OK," said Dom softly. "I'm alive, and so are you. I'll explain it all soon..."

  His eyes shifted to his side, referencing the guards lingering in the shadows. Now wasn't the time to speak plainly. They needed privacy.

  And Dom needed wine.

  Without wishing to delay, Dom led his two victorious gladiators out of the cells and towards the exit, where the crowd were already gathering beyond the vast cordon of guards. In the parking area outside, Dom found Claudius beside his personal carriage.

  His old aid stepped forwards, dipping his head.

  "Master Domitian, I hope you'll forgive me for not waking you. I believed you needed the rest, and that coming here would only cause you stress."

  Dom swept his arms forwards, gripping at Claudius' shoulders.

  "Dear friend, you will never have need to apologise to me," he said. "You only ever do what you feel is right and rational. You have proven yourself loyal too many times for me to ever doubt your intentions."

  Claudius managed a small smile, which for him was quite something.

  "Now come, Claud. We have plenty to discuss."

  Along with Oom and Kira, the two men climbed aboard the carriage and were quickly ushered away. The heaving masses continued their chants, desperate to get a look at the gladiators hidden away behind the curtains. They were growing more boisterous now, the guards here having trouble keeping them back. It seemed as though the problems in Southside were spreading, infecting all parts of the city with a streak of madness.

  It took some time, but eventually they'd worked back towards the compound and Dom's ludus within it. Oom, owing to his wounds, was transferred to a room within the villa to be seen to and further tended by Dom's medics. The rest quickly hurried up towards the second floor where they took position in the main sitting room, Kira's unwashed and filthy armour doing much to stain and dirty the finely appointed chamber.

  No one cared or even drew attention to it. Only when it was suggested Kira would be more comfortable in a lighter tunic did she undress, doing so in front of the two men. Claudius' eyes went elsewhere and didn't move. Dom glanced but little more as Kira ended in only her undergarments, before pulling on a clean white tunic brought into the room by Silia.

  Wine was poured, and food brought in. Only when the room was free of servants did Kira's voice blurt out, "So what the hell happened to you?!"

  Taking up a goblet of wine, Dom explained his story. The failed attempt to find Cicero. His capture by Lord Pontius' men. Lucius' part in securing his escape, and his old friend's insistence that they now work together.

  Kira listened, though seemed unsure still of Lucius' intentions.

  "It could be a trick," she suggested. "You told me yourself. Lucius likes to play mind games."

  Dom was shaking his head.

  "Not this time. This is real, Kira. I guarantee it. Lucius has long hated his father. Ever since Pontius forced him to kill the girl he loved, he's hated him, and everyone else too. My part in all that is..."

  "I know about it," said Kira. "Lucius told me before he tried to...well, you know."

  She dipped her eyes, still haunted by the threat to her body, so different from any other she'd faced.

  "That wasn't him," Dom whispered carefully. "He was under orders from my mother. But, all that's in the past now. We have to look forward, time allows for nothing else. We have a friend and ally in Lucius. I trust him, and you must too."

  Kira still appeared doubtful. She averted her eyes and took a gulp of wine.

  Dom drew a long breath.

  "I didn't want to tell you this, but perhaps I must," he said. The tone of his words forced Kira's eyes back upon him. "You fought brilliantly today, Kira. You were magnificent out there." He took another breath, and prepared to continue.

  "I'm sensing a 'but' here," Kira cut in, brows gathering close.

  Dom nodded.

  "Tomahawk...well, he wasn't himself, let's just say."

  "Wasn't himself? What does that mean?"

  "Um, well," Dom hesitated.

  "It means, Kira," came Claudius' authoritative voice, "that Lucius made sure you won today. He set a command into Tomahawk's mind to draw out the fight to make it seem believable, but to eventually lose when the time came. Didn't you wonder why he didn't take advantage of certain opportunities? There were times when he could have inflicted serious wounds, but refrained."

  "Why?" asked Kira, finding the thought unpalatable. "Why would Lucius care about keeping me alive?"

  Claudius looked at Dom.

  "For him," he said, nodding at his master, before crafting his thin eyes back on Kira. "I spoke
with Lucius. He understands how much Master Domitian cares for you. Your death might cause problems, and Lucius is adamant that he and Master Domitian work together in order to defeat both of their parents. And, he also feels guilty, I sensed, for how he's treated you. He wants to make it up, and so he ensured your survival out there today."

  Kira fell into her thoughts. It made sense. Horrible, depressing sense.

  The fight had been a set-up. She hadn't won of her own accord.

  But still, her lips curved into a secret smile regardless, and she lifted her emerald eyes to Dom's. He was staring at her, as he did so often.

  "So, you really care about me, huh?" she asked, smirking.

  Dom shuffled a little and hid behind his goblet of wine. And from there his voice came.

  "You know I do."

  Claudius impassively viewed the rather adorable exchange, before hurrying things along.

  "The question now, of course," he said, "is how to ensure Kira wins her next bout. Her semi-final will be three days from now, this coming Friday..."

  "Please, Claud, do we have to talk about this? I just came from the damn arena," huffed Kira. "And after all these reveals, I think it's safe to assume I won't be able to beat whoever comes next. Who would it be, anyway? I'm guessing one of the winners of the quarter finals tomorrow."

  "Yes," said Claud. "Tomorrow, Malvo is fighting Jaeger, and Shadow is fighting Steelhide. It is logical to assume that Jaeger and Shadow will be victorious, given their top seedings."

  "No doubt about that," mumbled Kira. "Poor Malvo, having to fight Jaeger."

  "Don't spare your concern and sympathy for him," said Claudius rather callously. "Think only of yourself."

  "Yes, so you keep telling me, Claud. But we're not all emotionless drones like you." She smiled sarcastically. "Not to be rude or anything, but I can't help but feel some sympathy for anyone stepping onto the sand."

  "Even Shadow?" asked Claudius.