o-----
"He shouted your name at the end of his match," said Cleothera. "Yelled out 'Bring me Lionfang' before he stomped off the field."
Gavin shook his head. The idea of Valaran holding up the dripping head of a foe, while calling out his name nauseated him. Part of him wanted to face Valaran again, despite Sadira's desire to fell the Golden Giant herself.
"He should be more worried about me," said Sadira, flexing her reformed hand. "He had his chance at Gavin."
"You know how men like Valaran are," said Cleothera. "He's fixated on the one that got away. People aren't happy with his behaviour. There have been quite a few riots and clashes. More than a few people are unhappy about the way he killed Black Wind: they say it is a repeat of Dun Loryn. Chosen Marius made a speech about a Gladiator's decorum in the Forum, but was reprimanded after it turned ugly. Chosen Mordhawk has been helping keep order, but he had to leave."
"What's this about the border?" said Gavin.
"The Wirn are pushing across the mountains, raiding cities in the Thousand Tongues and Sylvanwood," said Cleothera. "It appears they timed their attack to coincide with the Grand Championships."
"It does make sense," said Gavin. "Many of The Chosen are away from their Domains."
"They won't gain much ground before The Chosen return," said Sadira. "They can travel a lot faster than the Legions. Sax and Mordhawk got there yesterday according to Chosen Giselle."
"I wish Sax had stayed behind," said Cleothera. "The streets are dangerous this year. The Wirn attacks are just a large number of raids so far. It could be that they were expecting help from the western tribes but failed to get it; Chosen Mordhawk's negotiations may have paid off."
"Or perhaps the Wirn are playing at something else," said Gavin. "After all, we do know they have been working with agents in the Domains. That Heretic working with Baurtrum, Mondarvis, was one of theirs. Baurtrum and Valaran both use magic that is similar to that of the Wirn. What if that's not a coincidence?"
o-----
Sadira's fourth match had to be rescheduled while she regenerated. She used this time to practice and condition, working with Gavin, Deathcat, and Razorthorn to hone her technique.
Fifteen days into the Championship, she faced her old friend Azure Dream. Their match was a bloody ballet that left both fighters on the ground, seeking the strength to continue, several times.
At the end of the fight, Sadira was the only one of the two able to stand, although Minerva managed to get to her knees. Without thinking Sadira moved forward and offered her hand to her opponent and friend, helping her to her feet before she could was counted out. After a moment bracing herself, and a bloody hug from Sadira, Minerva stood, swaying and trembling. The crowd roared. Gavin smirked at Giselle’s expression, caught between admiration and frustration at her pupil's noble action. After some deliberation the judges ruled the move did not violate arena rules. The crowd chanted Sadira's name and gave her victory, and the two Gladiatrices left the field, hurt but laughing.
o-----
Valaran's opponent for his semi-final match, Turquine the Bloodaxe, went missing a day before the contest. The streets erupted into loud protests at this news, with even more riots breaking out, ending in clashes with the Legions. The mood of the city grew decidedly ugly. People were incensed at the idea of interference with the Grand Championships. Unrest delayed Sadira's match against Karmal. The council of The Chosen and the Assembly of Krass met while The Deliberative searched for the missing Gladiator.
Turquine's body was found Dockside, throat slashed, with his escorts dead around him. The Watch and the Legion descended on the lair of the Glassworks Gang, a notorious group of rowdies. But the idea that street thugs could overpower a massive Gladiator, two Grey-Robes, and a Hearthbound was suspicious. The East Shallows barred the Legions from their part of the city when it was revealed that none of the Glassworks Gang survived the raid. Rumours ran wild. Gold clad supporters of Valaran clashed with rioters. This time, even the presence of Chosen Moltar on the streets did not quell the people's anger quickly. Blood was shed. Chaos threatened.
In an interview with the Arena Post Valaran glibly commented that he could not have been the killer. After all, if he had wanted Turquine dead, he would have killed him on the fighting grounds.
The Chosen, reduced by half due to the border threats, called for a decision from the People's Assembly. The people would be allowed to vote for any master ranked Gladiator to face Valaran, excepting Sadira and Karmal. Many of the political players were livid, because this decision made it difficult for them to manipulate and deal, but no one dared publicly denounce such a democratic manoeuvre. Gavin knew who they would vote for. The people, most of them, were angry at Valaran and only one man had faced the Golden Giant and lived.
o-----
They took a horse drawn carriage, black with no heraldry, to Madame Chloe's Tea-House the day before Gavin was to fight Valaran and Sadira was to face Karmal. Gavin could sense waves of excitement radiating from his beloved as they moved through the streets. Sadira had shed tears of joy when the people had selected him as the replacement opponent for Valaran's semi-final match. He had accepted the honour in front of Hall of The Chosen with the Greens and Reds gathered, shouting his name. He was their chosen avenger, an arrow aimed straight at Valaran's heart.
Gavin could not stop thinking about the machinations behind his inclusion in the semi-final. He was placed firmly in Valaran's path. It seemed like fate to some, but Gavin knew that somewhere behind the scenes this event had either been the result of careful orchestration or a convergence of several complex webs of influence. No one complained that he would take the field. Not even Valaran. Perhaps the Golden Giant had arranged the whole thing, killing Turquine the Bloodaxe so that he could have another chance to show his dominance over Gavin? And what about the Greens? Their shouts of Hammerhorn and Lionfang had carried Gavin to prominence. Perhaps Moltar or some other Chosen had manipulated events so that Gavin could face Valaran. There were many possibilities. He wished he could make sense of them.
For Sadira, the culmination of events seemed perfect. Although she dearly wanted to crush Valaran herself, the symmetry of facing Gavin, always her greatest challenge, in her moment of glory filled her with anticipation. She couldn't have planned a better finale herself. She did not doubt that Gavin would kill Valaran: she could sense an adamantine will underneath Gavin's thoughtful exterior now. The Death of Omodo, his trials in the Death-Leagues, and his time with his Father had reforged Gavin. He was more confident now.
The streets were calmer now that the semi-finals were set; the people had been mollified by their chance to select a new champion to face Valaran. Nonetheless, City Watch and Legionnaires were still deployed in force.
The pair arrived at the Tea-House, using a private side entrance to avoid being seen. Sadira was wearing a formal gown, long and ornate; a cascade of silk that flowed with her graceful movements. Gavin had joked that he barely recognized her, dressed in such a fashion.
Imitating the manners of old, Gavin held out a chair for Sadira as they sat. The sun caught her through a high window as she sat, To Gavin she looked beautiful and ripe, pregnant with impending triumph. He stared at her a moment, framing her in his mind. She smiled, enjoying the silent companionship and the view of all the young Gladiators going about their business on the street below them.
"Your mind is strange today, beloved," Sadira said after their tea was served. She sipped without reservation, knowing that Chosen Giselle had sent a Hearthbound here hours ago, making sure the little Tea-house was secure.
"I'd just come to terms with the fact that I was done with arena," said Gavin. "I'm wondering who killed Turquine and who stands to gain from my fight against Valaran."
"You can add my name to that list," said Sadira. "Fighting you will be an enjoyable end to these Championships.”
"You seem pretty confident that I can beat him," said Gavin.
“I can sen
se what you are feeling beloved,” said Sadira. She took a sip of tea before continuing. “I sense no fear, no anger, and no resignation. What I do sense is resolve. You have changed, my love, and defeating Valaran is the last step in your metamorphosis, like a butterfly breaking out of its cocoon.”
Gavin laughed. “A butterfly?”
“A girl can like butterflies and scorpions, you know,” said Sadira. “I think the people sense this too. Your story compels them now; they want to see what you can become. The arena is not quite done with you yet, Gavin.”
“Well said,” said Gavin, raising his glass in salute. "You seem excited to face Karmal."
"I am," said Sadira. "Once I assert my dominance over that red headed fool, we can go back to being friends. She will stand among my Hearthbound if I win."
"Are you sure she had accept?" he said. He felt a surge of anger from her as she used their bond like an emotional battering ram.
"You and Giselle just don't understand my relationship with Karmal," said Sadira. "We've always been rivals as well as friends. She simply needs to be reminded that I am not weak. I'll beat her and everything will be settled between us. You should be more worried about how you are going to beat me in the finals."
"I'll consider that after I face Valaran" said Gavin, shaking his head.
"You can do it, my love." said Sadira. "You've been prepared for this. You know his tricks. He'll never get away with cheating at this stage."
"He's still a great fighter. And he's desperate."
"So are you."
"Good enough to face the mighty Red Scorpion?"
"Maybe the only one."
o-----
Gavin sat in his arming room. He could hear the thunder of the crowd as Sadira fought Karmal. Despite the rankings, his match against Valaran was considered the marquis event of the semi-finals; due to the death of Turquine and the Golden Giant's viciousness Valaran weighed heavily on the people's minds. Both matches filled him with worry. Sadira was too confident about her relationship with Karmal. The Flame-haired Gladiatrix was a monstrosity now, no longer the woman his beloved had befriended. He hoped he had gotten this point across to Sadira, planted the knowledge she needed. He could feel bursts of joy and sorrow, very faintly, from their bond, but would not be able to tell the outcome of her match. The wards did not sever their bond, but rather made it unreliable. Gavin had no way of knowing that Karmal had declared Ut Nex against Sadira, and that his beloved was fighting to the death.
Gavin felt his match against Valaran was worrisome for other reasons. Events had been manipulated to place him here, and he wondered how this match fit into the schemes of The Chosen and the other powers of the Empire. At least he knew the people wanted him here; the sea of people shouting 'Lionfang' and 'Hammerhorn' who greeted him outside the arena was proof enough of that. He hoped that he would make good use of the fame he borrowed.
Standing, he launched himself into a Kata. He breathed in, seeking calm. His movements became faster, more fluid. Sweat dripped from his brow. The Champion's back-banner, bearing the insignia that Delph had gifted to him, felt familiar now. The sword that he had reforged with his father felt reassuring. His little favour, a pendant with a lion and a scorpion was wrapped around the hilt; its twin was on Sadira greatsword. He thought of his friends and his accomplishments with pride. He exhaled, eyes focusing on the point of his spear as it came to rest. For a moment it seemed as if the whole world was poised on that broad barbed blade.
His mind was at peace. He was ready.
o-----
As Gavin took to the fighting grounds Ravius and Delph led a cacophonous cheer. “HAMMERHORN AND LIONFANG” rang out.
Gavin smiled, saluting the crowd. He ignored the jeering Golds easily, focusing on the sea of people that supported his cause. It had been a long time since he had thought seriously about the possibility of standing on these fighting grounds in the Grand Arena before the people of Krass. He felt insignificant before such a crowd. He wanted to laugh with glee as they shouted his name, but it would not be seemly. They had, after all, chosen him as an avenger. He was here to stop Valaran.
The last echoes of the thunderous cheers died down as the trumpet's call summoned Valaran to the fighting grounds. Nothing happened. Valaran did not issue forth. The crowd began to murmur. Gavin felt uneasy, but he guessed that this was deliberate tactic. It was considered bad form, but Valaran could hardly damage his own career at this juncture.
After several minutes a second, more urgent blast sounded. Valaran would have to appear before the third blast or he would be disqualified.
Gavin felt uneasy as a faint feeling of confusion and violation crept over him. He thought it might be coming from his bond with Sadira, but as he cast about, the feeling disappeared. He felt a sliver of dread. Something could be wrong and he was trapped, here on the fighting grounds.
Valaran stepped into view moments before the third sounding. The announcers shouted his name. He was cheered and booed. Valaran's Champion's attire was a long cloak, covered in heraldry, hiding his golden armour from Gavin's eyes. Valaran's smile was confidant as ever, but his eyes were red-rimmed and danced with menace and insanity. Currents of alien power drifted around him, more than Gavin would normally expect from a Gladiator not yet unleashed to fight. Had Valaran found a new way to cheat?
The Champion's cloak rippled, as if Valaran's muscles were restless underneath.
In the stands several of The Chosen exchanged glances. Valaran's power made them uneasy.
The two Gladiators faced one another. The fight had been declared a Deathmatch when it was announced. Ut Nex was not needed. There could be no peace between these two.
"I want you to know that you brought this upon yourself," said Valaran. His fevered eyes met Gavin's. His cloak shifted again, as if a serpent wound around him had just moved. Gavin felt more and more uneasy as he read the patterns and flows of power surrounding the Golden Giant.
"I'm sure those words will comfort you when you are in the land of the dead, Valaran," said Gavin.
"You cannot imagine what I have given up to destroy you and take back my rightful destiny, you bastard," added Valaran. Gavin could sense a terrible strain in his opponent; as if something had broken inside him and let the madness pour forth. He felt a wave of confusion and illness wash over him. “I have learned much since we last met. I have paid for that knowledge in ways that a man like you cannot understand.”
"Did you engineer this?" asked Gavin. "Are you the reason I am here?"
"I can see it now..." said Valaran, eyes distant. Maintaining the weave was difficult despite his new-found strength. "We were fated to fight, Lionfang. You are the last gnat buzzing around my head. Would that I could have killed you in Dregs and spared myself further sorrow. "
"Where you see fate I see the manipulations of others," said Gavin, shaking his head. "And even if you win here, you still have to face Sadira to achieve your ambition. She will kill you Valaran."
"I don't think that she will be a problem anymore," said Valaran quietly. Despite his fractured mind, his heart ached at what he had done. The sadness in his eyes was plain for Gavin to see. "Sadira is mine now."
Stalwart Gavin felt a cold spike in his stomach even as anger shot through his veins.
"What have you done Valaran?" he snarled.
In answer Valaran ripped away his heraldic cloak.
Gavin's eyes went wide, his brain numbed, rebelling against comprehension.
Something glistened wetly over Valaran's armour, writhing and twisting. Someone in the crowd began to scream. Shock, chased by revulsion, rippled through the people.
There are some times when insanity is a refuge. When people witness an event so barbaric and ugly that their minds cannot comprehend it, then it is natural for their thoughts to rebel and tear away when their eyes cannot. Many in the crowd that day succumbed to this temporary madness, while others simply watched, faces etched in shock.
The Chosen, the Grey-Robes, a
nd a few Gladiators, inured to such horrors by long experience, leapt to their feet; but the wards had been turned against them. Valaran could not be subdued by the Grey-Robe's magic. Those who could valiantly rushed towards the innards of the arena hoping to intervene. But Valaran had been busy. With Sadira's strength added to his own, the Golden Giant had dominated the many beasts kept underneath the arena. The greatest menagerie of monsters in the Domains awaited those who tried to help. A desperate, wild melee began, in which even The Chosen were hard pressed. Stories would later be written about that terrible battle.
Somehow Gavin's mind recovered from the shock of seeing his lover being worn like a grotesque suit of living armour. Now he knew why the bond between he and Sadira had been broken: Valaran was drawing power from Sadira's mutilated remains. Bile rose in Gavin's throat, and it took every measure of his self-control to act as Valaran roared and charged towards him.
Gavin's shield deflected the blow with uncanny perfection, but Valaran's already titanic strength was increased threefold by the power he had stolen from Sadira and Gavin was knocked backwards nonetheless.
Valaran revelled in his power, channelling more from the horror of the crowd. He wanted to savour the moment, and so he stopped and looked at Gavin, thrusting his pelvis obscenely, the pale armour glistening.
"I am inside of her even now," said Valaran. "It is unfortunate that her senses have been shut down. Sadira has never been closer to anyone."
Gavin responded with a mind blast. Although his will was stronger than Valaran's, the spell did little more than annoy the Golden Giant. Valaran sung at him. Gavin ducked under and gave ground before the Golden Giant's relentless assault.
Domains of the Chosen 02 Bloodlust: Will to Power Page 42