by Aaron Hodges
Alongside Johanas, the Riesoran thug noticed them as well. Immediately, the man twisted to face them and fell into a warrior’s stance, shield presented to the fore, gladius poised at his side.
Rydian clenched his fist around his own gladius and held his shield close, risking a glance at Hazel. From beneath her darkened visor, she stared across at the enemy, body taut, poised to strike. Rydian knew well her rage. This man had attacked their friend, had beaten an unarmed man while the crowd screamed him on.
He also towered over the both of them, a monster the Alfur had chosen to match Johanas’s own enormous size. The man looked none too pleased to see two more Goman gladiators marching towards him, armed for battle.
“What treachery is this, Gomans?” the Riesoran barked, moving to intercept the pair of them.
A thrill of fear touched Rydian as the giant towered over them, but he pushed it down. Alongside him, Hazel showed no such restraint, as with a snarl she started towards the man. Quickly he put out a hand, bidding her to wait.
“We’re here for him,” he said, nodding towards Johanas from beneath his helm.
The words gave the Riesoran pause and he glanced back to where their friend swayed on his knees. “What is the matter with him?” the man grunted. “He is…coward?”
“He’s braver than you’ll ever be, thug,” Hazel spat, pushing aside Rydian’s hand. “Now get out of our way, before we show you Goman steel.”
The Riesoran said nothing for a moment, only stared down at them from beneath his visor. “His life belongs to me,” said at last. “If he does not wish to fight, then I gladly grant him death.”
“That is good,” a fourth voice announced, harsh and metallic, without hint of emotion. “Else I fear my father would be forced into…drastic actions.”
Rydian spun to see the Alfurian gladiator, Rotin, striding across the sands towards them. A sharp intake of breath came from alongside him as Hazel spotted the creature, while the Riesoran man only retreated a step before its presence.
“Mouse,” the creature continued, turning in Rydian’s direction. “I am pleased to see you have recovered from your…affliction.”
Clenching his fists, Rydian resisted the desire to leap at the Alfur. He didn’t like the way it was staring at him, watching him. Two games now it had stepped onto the sands when he had appeared. What was it doing out here, and what did it know about his Manus reader, after the last time he’d faced it?
Finally though, Rotin turned from him to face the Riesoran gladiator. “It is past time you ended this farce, Terrell of Riesor.”
The man looked at it sharply and alongside Rydian, Hazel inhaled sharply. “No,” she hissed.
Rotin turned as she took a step forward, the unseen face behind the mask freezing her in face. “Do not interfere, Hawk,” Rotin said, voice still cold, though touched now with an edge of danger. “None of us can change what must happen here. The haze must be fed. A life must be paid.”
The haze?
Rydian shivered at the creature’s words. The haze, why did that sound so familiar? Hadn’t Aureli’s final ramblings mentioned something of a haze? He’d thought the man was referring to his mind, but—
“Very well,” the Riesoran gladiator said softly, interrupting Rydian’s thoughts. Sword in hand, he stepped towards Johanas.
“Stop!” Rydian snarled. Heat suddenly surging through his core, he leapt forward, skirting where Rotin stood to place himself between his friend and the enemy gladiator. Raising gladius and shield, he faced the Riesoran. “I won’t let you.”
Towering above him, the enemy gladiator Terrell seemed taken aback by Rydian’s actions. Even Hazel was shocked, standing frozen behind the Alfurian gladiator. Hesitantly, Terrel looked in askance of Rotin.
“I am but an observer in this bout,” the creature said again, voice toneless, unmoved by the new events. “But…a life must be paid.”
Rydian clenched his teeth and stared up at the giant gladiator. He’d sparred with Johanas enough to know a fight between them would be horribly unbalanced. Terrell seemed to know it too, for after a long moment the man began to chuckle.
“Your friend has caused quite the mess, Mouse,” he rumbled, “but it seems the Alfur do not care which of your team I kill. So step aside. Your people…prefer gladiator with courage survive this day, not…the craven.”
“Johanas has more courage in his heart than either of us,” Rydian said quietly. So saying, he raised his blade in salute. “So do your worst, Terrell.”
The Riesoran man hesitated a moment longer, before offering a curt nod. “So be it.”
Sand exploded around the gladiator’s boots as he leapt, surging forward to close the gap between them. In an instant, he was upon Rydian, gladius stabbing out, seeking flesh. Teeth bared beneath his helm, Rydian met the blow with his shield, then twisted aside, struggling to keep the man from getting close enough to bring his greater strength and weight to bear.
But Terrell was no novice, and he quickly closed the gap. Rydian staggered as a thrust of the man’s shield connected with his own, forcing him back. Twisting again, he barely avoided another stab of his foe’s blade. As it was, the shield was almost torn from his grasp by a backhanded riposte of Terrell’s gladius.
Snarling, Rydian held on, but Terrell’s fury proved far more controlled than his previous foe’s. Blow after blow forced Rydian back, but this warrior did not overextended himself. His feet remained balanced, moving from stance to stance, offering no opportunity to counterattack. Desperately, Rydian searched for a chink in the man’s armour, in his technique, but he’d spent no time preparing to face this gladiator.
Completely outmatched, it was only a matter of time before Terrell’s blade found Rydian’s flesh.
The first blow came as Rydian tried a desperate attack of his own. His foe seemed to stumble, his shield lowering half a fraction. Rydian leapt upon the opportunity, lashing out with the point of his gladius, and almost lost his life for the effort.
Righting suddenly, Terrell caught Rydian’s attack on his shield, even as his own blade lanced out. Taken off-guard, Rydian had no time to avoid the blow, and only a desperate thrust of his shield saved him from a mortal wound. As it was, a scream tore from his lips as the sword’s point slammed against his hip.
Stumbling back, he presented his sword and shield to his foe, though already he could feel the hot liquid running down his side. No shallow wound this one—Terrell’s blade had cut deep. Pain throbbed at Rydian’s side and his vision swam as he looked across the arena at the giant, struggling to keep himself from showing pain.
Terrell paused his attack, and as one, he and Rydian turned to look at where Johanas lay. Hazel crouched at his side now, but the man was struggling to push himself to his feet, his gaze on their desperate battle.
“It appears the craven would rather be the one to perish,” Terrell said quietly.
A growl slipped from Rydian’s throat as he turned from his friends to the Riesoran gladiator. He said nothing, only stood and beckoned his foe on. For the moment, rage gave him the strength to ignore the agony in his side, the slow draining of his energy, the despair that threatened to engulf him.
The Riesoran gladiator nodded at the gesture, then raised his blade in salute. Whatever he thought of Johanas, Rydian had earned his respect. Not that it would save Rydian.
Drawing in a breath, Rydian readied himself. A pulsing came from his side, a burning, pounding heat that seemed to grow with each inhalation, with each beat of his racing heart. Fists clenched around his weapons, Rydian ignored the pain.
Across the sands, Terrell charged.
Rydian watched him come, strangely calm. Through the pain and heat and rage, he watched his death come barrelling towards him, saw the enemy blade as it drew back, watched the Riesoran shield lift half an inch—and saw the narrow gap his enemy had left in his defences.
Without thinking, Rydian reacted. Ignoring his foe’s shield, he thrust out with his own to catch the en
emy gladius on its rim. As he did so, he stabbed with his blade, aiming low beneath the shield the Riesoran held high to clash with Rydian’s own. He half expected the opening to be faint, a trap that would allow Terrell to finally break through his own defences and strike him dead.
So Rydian was surprised when he felt the thump of his gladius striking flesh.
An instant later, Terrell’s shield slammed into Rydian’s helmet with the full weight of the gladiator behind it. Stars exploded across his vision as the blow hurled him backwards, tearing the gladius from his fingers. He slammed into the ground with a crunch and went tumbling across the sand, finally coming to rest a few yards from where he’d stood.
Half blinded, Rydian lay in a daze, expecting at any moment to feel the kiss of a gladius upon his neck, to be sent screaming into the icy cold of death.
But it did not come, and finally he forced his eyes to open, to push himself up from the hot sand. He blinked at the sudden light that struck him, the harshness of the green sun above. It was a moment before Rydian realised his helmet had been lost in the clash, but it hardly mattered for the moment. Straining to see through the stars dancing in his vision, he looked around for his foe.
And found Terrell lying nearby, eyes staring unseeing into the emerald expanse, a pool of red staining the sands around him. Rydian’s gladius remained where it had struck, driven hard through the groin, severing his femoral artery.
Not quite able to believe what he’d done, Rydian pushed himself carefully to his feet. A terrible pounding beat against his skull and the sun above was like daggers through his eyes, but he found himself smiling as he turned and found Hazel standing nearby, Johanas still knelt at her side.
Shaking his head to try and dislodge the last of the star-streaks in his vision, Rydian stumbled towards them. There was a roaring in his ears, the pounding of racing blood, though he could hear the crowd even through that, the murmur of a thousand voices. It was only as he neared his friends that he saw their eyes were not on him, but the stands of the arena.
“What…is it?” he asked, his head still in the grips of agony.
Hazel blinked, a frown appearing on her face as she turned towards him. “Rydian…” she said, her voice sounding distant, afraid, though surely that was only the aftereffects of the blow to his head. He had won, defeated the Riesoran gladiator. Johanas would live…
“Rydian, what are they saying?”
23
“Rydian?” Hazel repeated, eyes wide as they stared at him. “What…”
She trailed off, as though unable to finish the sentence. Frowning, Rydian ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair and looked from his friends to the crowd. The ringing in his ears was slowly fading, and over it he heard now the rumbling of the crowd, saw the way many were rising to their feet, pointing.
“Son…smine…rebellion…traitor!”
Finally, some of the words began to filter through the pounding. Rydian’s heart lurched in his chest as he realised what was happening.
This was Goma, his city, his home.
And the people of Goma knew who he was.
Without his helmet, the Goman gladiator the crowd had been cheering on just moments ago had been recognised for what he was.
The son of a traitor.
Spinning, Rydian looked to Hazel and saw the horror dawning in her eyes. He raised a hand towards her, but she flinched away. All around the arena, rage returned to the faces of the people as they rose to scream their fury. Once already they had been shamed, witness to the cowardice of one of their own. Now they found themselves deceived, cheated into cheering on the son of an Alfurian sympathiser.
But it was not the crowd’s anger that had Rydian’s heart racing, not their deception that filled him with terror. It was the look in Hazel’s eyes as she flinched away from him, the pain that haunted his friend’s face.
“Rydian,” she said again, her words fading into the roaring of their fellow citizens. “Rydian, tell me…tell me it’s not true.”
“I…” He opened his mouth, then closed it again, knowing he could not lie to her. “Hazel, please, let me explain—”
“No…” she whispered, shaking her head. “No…no, it can’t be, I trusted you!” Her voice grew to a shout as she stepped towards him. “No, tell me it’s not true! Tell me I haven’t…that you didn’t…bastard!”
Screaming the last word, Hazel launched herself at him, gladius in hand. Rydian cried out as the blade flashed for his face, barely raising his battered shield in time to deflect the blow. Pain lanced through his side as he staggered back from her, and a sudden weakness swept through him. Dropping his hand to his side, he realised his shirt was soaked in blood from the wound Terrell had delt him.
“Hazel,” he gasped, raising the bloody hand towards her. “Please, she didn’t—”
But Hazel was in no mood to listen. “Your mother,” she screamed, swinging at him again, forcing him back. “She killed him! I saw, I saw with my own eyes.”
The crack as Hazel’s blade struck Rydian’s shield echoed across the stadium and Rydian twisted away—only for Hazel to surge forward, stabbing out again.
Pain seared across Rydian’s shoulder as her blade scored his flesh, drawing fresh blood. Crying out, he shoved back against his friend, driving the rim of his shield into her face. The impact knocked her helmet askew, forcing her back—but only for a moment. Screaming, she tore the twisted chunk of metal from her head and hurled it aside, then came for him again.
“Hazel!” Rydian cried, trying desperately to dissuade her. “Hazel, please, I don’t want to fight you!”
“I don’t care,” she spat.
Again she attacked, and again Rydian raised his shield to defend himself. Her blade struck against its rim before her shield followed, slamming against his own, thrusting it aside, almost tearing the straps from his arm. Rydian staggered, and Hazel lashed out with a boot, catching him hard in the stomach.
The impact lifted Rydian to the tips of his toes. Gasping, struggling to inhale, he stumbled, trying to make space between them. Snarling, Hazel chased after him.
“I’ll kill you!” she gasped, lashing out again and again, voice breaking, words turning to sobs. “…have to die…for what she did…to me!”
Exhausted, strength fleeing through the wound in his side, Rydian struggled to defend himself. There was no strategy to Hazel’s attacks, only a furious barrage of deadly steel, only a desperate need to attack, to kill. Again and again her blade found Rydian’s flesh, though he kept the worst of her blows from landing.
Until finally he missed one.
Again Hazel’s gladius slammed against the side of his shield, but this time his block was weak, and the blade slipped past to stab his shoulder. A cry tore from Rydian’s lips as Hazel drove her blade deep into his flesh. Gasping, he tried to retreat from her, but Hazel tossed aside her own shield and caught him by the collar, dragging him back, drawing him further onto her gladius.
“I will…I will…kill you,” Hazel snarled, leaning in close, eyes burning.
Rydian felt an awful crunch as she twisted her gladius in his shoulder. He screamed again, trying desperately to free himself from her grasp, but the strength had fled his arm, his body, and instead he found himself falling to his knees.
Face contorted with hatred, Hazel stood over him. Abruptly, she tore her gladius loose. Rydian gasped, clutching pitifully at the wound, all thought of resistance fled. He was finished, done. He couldn’t fight back, not against Hazel.
Teeth clenched against the pain, swaying on his knees, he struggled to look up at her, to meet her eyes, to let her know it was okay, that he understood.
Their eyes met, and Hazel froze, gladius poised, his blood dripping from its steely edge. Pain showed on her face, the pain of betrayal, of hatred. For just a moment, he thought she might halt her blade.
But the moment passed, and eyes shining, his friend let out a scream, and her gladius plunged down—
Suddenly someone
was standing over Rydian. Empty hands outstretched, feet stumbling on the soft sands, the newcomer placed himself between the two warring gladiators and bid them to stop.
But there was no time for Hazel to withdraw her blow, and with a soft thump, her blade slammed home through the stranger’s chest.
Except…as the man staggered back and turned away from Hazel, towards Rydian, he realised it was no stranger that had come to his rescue.
“No!”
His body still engulfed in pain, Rydian struggled to rise from the sand, to go to the man as he stumbled back, as he clutched at the terrible wound Hazel had opened in his chest. A soft gasp, one almost of surprise, whispered from the man’s lips as he looked around, though his blind eyes saw nothing in the brightly lit stadium.
Nothing, that is, but Rydian.
“Son,” Rafael whispered as he fell to his knees beside Rydian.
“No, no, no,” Rydian gasped, scrambling to his father.
Blind hands found Rydian’s as they crouched in the sand, drawing one another into an embrace. Desperate, he held his father tight, as though that alone might be enough to save him. A pounding sounded in his ears, swallowing the roaring of the crowd, drowning out even Hazel’s screams as she stumbled back from them, open horror on her face.
Rydian ignored her. All his attention was on his father, on the man he hadn’t seen in months, on the blood bubbling from his chest, on the terrible wound, on the red flecking Rafael’s lips as he tried to speak, as his frail hands clutched at Rydian.
“Dad, no, no, no, what did you do? Why?” he gasped, hot tears burning his face, sobs tearing from his throat.
He’d seen enough the last few weeks to know his father’s wound was fatal, and yet…gasping, he clenched his fist, seeking desperately for his Manus reader to come alive, for the strange power that sometimes came to fill it with Light, to heal his father as it had his aching body that morning long ago.