The Warrior Race Trilogy BoxSet

by T. C. Edge

  His anvil of a jaw swerved back to her. His eyes were hard to read. Though somewhere, deep inside, Kira thought she saw doubt.

  "I serve the will of the Empress," he said, trying to maintain his conviction. "I don't consider my place in this world beyond the actions I take to protect her. That is the function of my service."

  Kira shook her head.

  "The function of your enslavement," she whispered.

  This time, Ares' voice didn't explode, and his eyes didn't turn wild. Instead, the flash of doubt pulsed a little harder, and he turned to look away.

  The carriage drew to a stop. And without another word, the mighty gladiator stepped out, hauling Dom onto his shoulder, and proceeded off up the stairs towards the door of the palace.

  Kira sat for a moment alone, wondering what was going on. Then a rush of bodies came, several more soldiers dismounting from their steeds and snatching her up from the coach. A bag was thrown over her head, covering her in darkness.

  "Slaves like you don't get to see the palace," spat a guard, his breath hot and putrid to Kira's senses.

  She was dragged off, winding downwards, the air turning cooler and more stale. The footsteps started to echo, spreading down narrow stone passages. Then she heard the squeal of a gate being opened, the rusted metal hinges moaning loudly. She was marched forward and tossed inside, toppling to the floor.

  She felt a hand grip forcefully at her head, ripping the bag away.

  "There you go, girl. Now you can have a look."

  The man's laughter rattled as he stalked his way out of the cell, darker and more grim than the one she'd been kept in at the ludus. There was a horrible, soiled mattress, and a bucket of filthy water. Otherwise, she was surrounded by cold, murky stone.

  It was where she'd spend the final days of her life.

  "Wake up, Domitian. Wake up. There's someone special who wants to meet you."

  The voice slipped into Dom's blurred mind, drawing him from the darkness. His eyes cracked open, and a horrible scent ripped up his nostrils. Suddenly, all his senses were alive. He tore his head back and saw a muscular hand holding a capsule of smelling salts beneath his nose.

  "There you are, Empress. Wide awake," said Ares.

  Dom stared forward and saw his mother materialise before him. She had an odd smile on her face. That was nothing new. Yet in her arms, cradled so gently and bundled in blankets, was a sight of pure horror. Her new son, born only that day, was sleeping soundly. Dom shuddered at the poor fate that awaited him. And what, with her as his mother, the boy might become.

  "Isn't he beautiful," she whispered softly, looking to the child. "He's going to be so handsome, just like his big brother." Her eyes lifted and turned. "I'm going to call him Julius, in honour of the beautiful girl who gave me this miracle. It's the least I could do, given her sacrifice."

  Dom shook the final cobwebs from his head, and found that they were up in Vesper's private quarters at the summit of the palace.

  "Sacrifice," he said, frowning. "You mean, birthing a child for you?"

  "Well, that. And...more. Regrettably, she died." She lifted a finger to her lips. "But keep your voice low. We don't want lovely Julius waking."

  "Died," Dom whispered. He looked at Ares, who looked away. "You mean, you had her killed, as soon as she'd completed what you needed her for."

  "Are you going to blame me for everyone who dies in this city, Domitian?" said Vesper, aghast. "If a man has a heart attack, is that my fault. If a child falls into the Tiber and drowns, am I to blame?"

  Dom stared at her. He didn't need to answer. He already knew she'd murdered Julia right after the deed was done. She couldn't have a woman like that around, pining over the child she brought to term. Oh no. Cleaner to just eliminate her. That was how his mother's warped mind now worked.

  He looked at the boy, as innocent as he'd ever be. He was his brother, his blood, but he'd be shaped into something terrible. Proximity to Vesper was a curse. So few escaped her grasp unhurt.

  "Did you know about the attack today?" Dom asked, looking back up into his mother's eyes. "You'd have stayed here anyway, wouldn't you? Even if Julia hadn't given birth?"

  Before she answered, he wondered if the birth had even been natural. Perhaps it had been deemed time to tear the child from her womb, ready to be shown to the world for the close of the games in two days time.

  "I knew," nodded Vesper, gently rocking the boy from side to side. "I've been quite aware of your intentions for some time, Domitian. It was a fair attempt, though I daresay it would have failed even had I been in attendance. You think anyone can get past Ares?"

  Dom looked to the great man.

  "Perhaps," he said. Then he shook his head, eyes still on the head of the guard. "You must open your eyes," he whispered. "This woman is destroying so many lives, and you are party to..."

  "Quiet!" came a harsh hiss. "Don't speak of things you don't understand!"

  Her words caused Julius to stir. Vesper's face suddenly softened and her voice went too.

  "Oh no, hush sweet child. Mummy's here. Shush now."

  She began rocking him again, and he started to drift off once more. Dom felt sick, discussing his mother's murder in such circumstances, with a newborn baby between them.

  "Why am I here, mother?" asked Dom, wishing only to get to the point. "If you want to kill me, just have Ares do it already. It will be a great relief to be free of you and your torture."

  "I...don't think so, Domitian. I am still trying to figure out just what to do with you. In any case, your punishment must be more severe. First, you will witness your dear new love die upon the sand. That will be for starters."

  Dom's face lowered into a glower.

  "Ah yes, there it is," Vesper went on. "I can see it all over your silly face. I don't even have to look into your mind. Oh Dom, how tragic. It really is love, isn't it? You truly love this slave..."

  "She isn't a slave!" snapped Dom, causing Julius to wake this time. Vesper flashed a glare. Dom continued. "She's the bravest damn girl I've ever met! She's worth a hundred of you, you crazy bitch!"

  Now Julius was really bawling, stretching those brand new lungs of his and testing their capacity. He was a precocious talent, that much was clear. Vesper moved back, rocking him more forcefully and whispering for him to sleep. Her failure drew a smirk to Dom's lips.

  "Still got that motherly touch, hey Vesper," he sniggered.

  She ignored him, calling for a maid to come take the boy. One rushed through, and Dom's tongue slid again.

  "Perhaps you shouldn't have killed Julia. I imagine she'd be a better mother to the boy than you ever could."

  Julius was passed on, and ushered quickly away. As his cries fled, echoing through the spacious chambers, Vesper flew herself back at Dom, slapping him hard across the face. The impact brought a fierce sting, but a hearty smile too.

  "Is that the best you've got?" Dom asked, smirking. "You're weak, and old. And you've lost your grip."

  Another slashing palm raced across his cheek. Dom laughed through the sharp pain, bellowing loudly now as a third slap struck him.

  "Mad Vesper, they'll call you!" he laughed. "The mad Empress who ruined an empire!"

  "Ares! Hit him for me. Hit him hard!"

  Dom's laugher faded as he looked at Ares, who stood back, doubtful.

  "Did you not hear me, you great oaf! Hit him. I said hit him!"

  She stamped towards Ares and grabbed his arm, pulling him over to Dom. Still, the great champion hesitated.

  "Hit him! Hit him!"

  He looked at Dom.

  "I'm sorry, Prince Domitian."

  "Sorry! For what?" cackled Vesper. "He's a traitor! Now hit him!"

  Dom looked at Ares and nodded.

  "Go ahead, Ares. Do as she commands."

  Ares took a breath, balled his huge fist, and flung it across Dom's face. A crunch of teeth rattled, and his head went spinning to one side.

  "Again! Hit him again! Harder! Harder!
"

  Dom's eyes were blurring, but he still managed eye contact. He nodded once more, and the second strike came, harder than the first. Now Vesper was really shrieking, though Dom's head was swiftly falling away and returning to the blackness.

  "It's just a taster!" she called out, delirious. "Oh, I've got so much more for you, my dear son! Hit him again. Break his jaw. Snap some ribs. Show him what happens to traitors around here."

  Dom quickly lost consciousness after the third strike, shattering right into his jaw. The next punch that connected with his stomach was a dull thud and nothing more, his mind quickly going out of commission. And with a couple of teeth falling from his lips, and blood dribbling from his split lips, his head hung loose upon his neck for the second time in quick succession.

  And such was his mother's madness, that the final thought that went through his head questioned just whether he'd ever wake up.

  116

  Claudius wasn't one for partaking in the regular drinking sessions that his master enjoyed. As his chief aid and advisor, who pretty much ran the household for him, he liked to keep a level head at all times, and hadn't touched a drop of wine since Master Domitian forced it upon him during his last birthday.

  Right now, however, he was already onto his second cup.

  It was just that sort of day.

  The silver-haired Savant had been busy since returning to the ludus, only a couple of hours ago, speaking with the guards to ensure the gate was secure and on double-watch, and informing the staff of the latest turn of events and to be ready to evacuate should the need arise.

  He delivered the rather stark announcements with his usual calm countenance, though the maids and servants were rather less relaxed. Unlike Claudius, they didn't know of the secret escape passage, and thus were rather alarmed by the prospect of being trapped in the compound with nowhere to go should the Imperial Guard come marching to the gate.

  Claudius did his best to assure everyone that it was a 'worst case scenario', and that they would probably be perfectly safe. None of them were aware of Master Domitian's plot against his mother, and thus should be shielded from the Empress' reprisals. Claudius, however, was intimately involved. He knew full well that the hammer was set to come down on his head, and probably rather soon.

  Hence the wine, which was helping to soothe him as he worked. Right now, he was at his desk on the first floor, taking a short breather having completed his most immediate tasks. He'd gotten word from the games, and knew that Oom had been defeated and, by some miracle, Kira had managed to win. He was quite certain that she'd be taken in by Vesper to prevent her trying to escape, and that Dom would be held captive too until his punishment was administered.

  It was little more than a disaster, and while Claudius wasn't built to be emotionally affected by such things, he couldn't help but feel hollow. He had done nothing more than follow his master's orders, and now the Prince was surely to be executed, and Claudius' fate would be to either follow, or escape, exiling himself and becoming an enemy of the state, hunted and pursued for the rest of his meagre days.

  The same would be true for everyone else here who considered themselves loyal to their master. While they will have had absolutely nothing to do with anything more important than serving food or washing clothes, they might still be drawn into the punishments dished out by the Empress.

  She'd become so unhinged, that Claudius' logical manner of thinking was finding it hard to predict what she might do. She could very well gather up all of Dom's people and have them publicly executed before his eyes, just to deepen his failure and cause him more pain before eventually putting him to death.

  As he sat, musing on the awful events of the day, he heard footsteps hurrying swiftly along the corridor. The speed of the footfall suggested a problem. He lifted his eyes as the door, sitting ajar, was pushed open without knocking.

  It was Silia, her brows struggling to work out whether to lift or fall. She ended up choosing a frown, and stepped forward with a red flush to her olive-toned cheeks and a pant to her breath.

  "What's the matter, Silia?" asked Claudius. "Gather your breath and speak."

  Silia steadied her breathing, drawing in a long gulp of air before her words came hurrying out.

  "It's...I don't know. There's some strange banging noise coming from below."

  Claudius raised his eyebrows. He sat up in his chair.

  "A banging noise? Where?"

  "On the ground floor, at the back of the villa. It's coming from one of the old storerooms..."

  Claudius was on his feet, old limbs straight into action.

  "Show me," he said immediately.

  With Silia taking the lead, the two rushed swiftly down towards the ground floor, moving through the passages towards the rear of the villa. The faint sound of dull thuds on stone began to fill the air, barely audible until they reached the appropriate door and opened it up. The storeroom was basic, sparsely filled, and very rarely visited. The thudding grew louder as they entered.

  "You see," whispered Silia harshly, looking at the blank stone wall. The banging was coming from behind it, someone knocking at the thick stone. "What is that?"

  Claudius knew full well what it was. It was the entrance to the secret escape tunnel, and someone had come the other way.

  His thoughts quickly worked through his options. Given everything that was happening, he considered that, maybe, Master Domitian's safe house had been compromised, and some guards had come down the passage, ready to sneak in and surprise the residents of the villa without having to fight through the gate. It was his gut reaction to summon a batch of his own guards to rush down to join them, ready to defend.

  But, Claudius quickly turned to more logical and reasoned thoughts. If a secret force had worked their way down the tunnel, then they wouldn't be telegraphing their arrival by banging on the door. They would merely blast it open and...

  A sudden shaking took hold in the room, cutting off Claudius' thoughts. His eyes turned right up to the wall, dust now sprinkling from above and the boundary of the secret door starting to become visible in the stone. It trembled violently, like an earthquake localised right here, and Sila quickly stumbled back, ready to take cover under anything sturdy she could find.

  Claudius retreated a few steps with her, but didn't get far before the quaking reached a crescendo, and the solid stone door was suddenly ripped from its foundations, pressed forward into the room, and cast off to one side. It floated, scraping across the floor, before dropping heavily and with a loud crash into a stack of wooden boxes.

  The puff of dust billowed out into the storeroom, filling it with a cloud. Claudius stood alongside Silia, who cowered, the two staring right at the black opening that appeared ahead. And within it, shapes took form, several of them, stepping forward into the shallow light and coughing up dust.

  They were speaking as they came.

  "Finn, did you have to rip the door right off!" reprimanded an old, croaky voice. It was Merk.

  "I'd had enough of knocking," came a youthful tone in reply. "I'm sure Dom's rich enough to fix it..."

  The figures stepped into the light, squinting as they climbed over bits of fallen rubble.

  Finn at the front, Merk to his side, and behind them the figures of Gwyn and two older men Claudius didn't recognise. One was slim and willowy in his features. The other was broad and strong, with a heavy salt and pepper beard and flowing grey hair. All of them looked worn, but drew up large smiles upon reaching the end of the passage.

  They stepped into the room, and laid eyes on Claudius and Silia, who stood dumbfounded. For a second, no one spoke. And then suddenly, Merk's crooked smile took shape.

  "Claudius, Silia!" he beamed. "So good of you to welcome us home."

  Merk hurried on aching limbs right for the two residents of the ludus, drawing Claudius into an abbreviated hug and then offering Silia a more tender and true one. He pulled back and then turned to his allies, stretching an arm out towards their new
guests.

  "Claudius, Silia, I'd like to introduce Cicero and Polus. You may have heard of the latter."

  He turned back to the two members of the household, who continued to stare, slightly bewildered. Even Claudius looked shocked, and that said a lot.

  "Polus," the old aid whispered. "You mean..."

  "Yes indeed, the very one," beamed Merk. "We have a real tale to tell, I can assure you! Now where's Master Domitian. We need to speak with him immediately."

  As the others moved a little further into the room, Claudius' eyes fell. He took a breath and looked directly at Merk.

  "I'm sorry, Merk. It appears you've come too late."

  Merk's heart took flight, pressing violently in his chest.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, things have advanced quickly in your absence. Master Domitian made an attempt against his mother's life only this morning. He has been imprisoned in the palace to await his punishment."

  "No..." said Merk, shaking his head, refusing to believe it. "We came all this way..."

  Finn stepped forward, right in front of Claudius. He'd changed since leaving. He appeared many years older, his will turned to granite.

  "What about Kira?" he asked firmly. "What's happening in the games?"

  Gwyn joined the blue-eyed boy at his side. She looked on at Claudius in hope, wide eyes praying for something positive.

  "Is she here?" she asked. "Is Kira still here?"

  Claudius took a pause, then shook his head.

  The two young faces crafted into premature pain. It was immediately dismissed and fashioned into hope when Claudius spoke again.

  "She isn't here, but she is alive. She defeated Shadow in her semi final just this afternoon. She has made it to the final."

  "What?! No way!" beamed Gwyn. "She's alive?! She's really alive?!"

  "She is," said Claudius. "But I caution against optimism at this time. She has been taken to the palace dungeons, to be watched over by the Empress' guards. She will be there until the final in two days, which she has little chance of winning."