by Jeff Gunzel
“Paying off a debt.” Salina shrugged. “We aren’t all murderers and thieves, you know,” she added with a wink. But her smirk melted away, her expression turning solemn. “My son was a gambler, always throwing dice at the local tavern every chance he got. Oh, I turned a blind eye for a time. I told myself he was just going through a phase, that he would grow bored of that stupid game and even more so of losing his coin night after night. That’s what mothers do.” A hint of her prior smile returned. “We would never lie to our children, but we seem to have no problem lying to ourselves. Denial can be a powerful thing.”
She blinked away the pained look in her eyes before continuing. “Items began disappearing from our home, jewelry, silverware, even clothes. Again I looked the other way, convincing myself they had been misplaced. I even told myself we must have been robbed, because my dear Preston—” Her voice cracked as her reddening eyes drifted upward. “He would never have done such a thing.” Her voice lowered to a hushed whisper. “It was just a phase. He was young and stupid. It wasn’t going to last.” Her distant vision coming back into focus, she looked at Viola. “But it was me who was stupid.” She shook her head at the painful memory.
“One evening there came a knock at the door. The hour was late, so I hesitated to answer. Preston had yet to come home, and I could never fall asleep until he was safe in his bed, so of course I was still up. Moments after the second knock, the door crashed in and a group of men stormed my living room. They were looking for my boy, said he hadn’t paid his debts at the local game house for months. They roughed me up a little bit, but that didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have told them where he was even if I knew.”
Salina reached out, the tips of her fingers touching the back of Viola’s hand. If the touch of Viola’s ice-cold skin bothered Salina, she showed no sign of it. “That is why I’m here. My son’s debt was passed on to the local authorities. And since no one knows where he ran off to, that debt has now fallen to me. And since I don’t have that kind of coin, I now have to fight in the pit to pay it off. It is the only way I can free his name.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Viola, her thumb rubbing the top of Salina’s hand. Suddenly, her thumb stopped moving and she sat up. A tiny gasp escaped her lips. So enthralled she was in Salina’s story that she hadn’t even realized a human was talking to her, looking her right in the eye while pouring her heart out. Not only was this woman not afraid of her, but she seemed to even trust her to some extent.
“Oh, don’t be,” Salina replied, waving off Viola’s pity. “I’ll gladly accept this burden in place of my son. As far as I know, they still haven’t found Preston. That somehow comforts me in some strange way. He will start a new life somewhere far away. And if he ever comes home, I will have cleared his name.”
“But this isn’t fair,” said Viola. “You’re risking everything for something he did. Aren’t you even a little mad about that?”
Salina shook her head. “I find it empowering that I can end all this. As a mother, I will do whatever it takes to protect my son. And besides,” she spun her spoon between three fingers, then snapped her wrist, sending it tumbling through the air to strike the wall on the far side of the room, “I’m better suited for this than he is.” Having seen a good many dagger throws from her friends, Viola recognized the woman’s skill set for what it was.
“That’s it, maggots,” said one of the guards, tapping his sword against his breastplate to get their attention. “Sleeping quarters are this way.” He raised his blade, using it to point down the hall. Pushing her partially full bowl away, Viola was the first to rise from her seat. She nodded to Salina and wandered off to find herself a room. She glanced into each stone-walled room she passed, quickly discovering there wasn’t much difference in any of them, five in total. She decided on the last one near the end of the hall.
Reaching out to hook the doorless entrance as she passed, she spun herself in. There were two wooden plank beds on either side of the room, with a single oil lamp hung on the wall. The wooden bed looked very inviting when compared to the dank stone floor she had been sleeping on. Only slightly bigger than her fist, a tiny sack filled with beans served as a pillow, and the hole-filled blanket was thin enough to be called a sheet. Still, she welcomed all the little comforts.
A familiar face popped through the entryway, and Viola smiled up at Salina. “They’re doubling up two to a room,” she said, almost seeming shy this time. “Do you mind?” She pointed to the second bed.
“Of course not.” Viola’s grin widened as Salina tiptoed towards the bed. So far, this human had been nothing but kind to her, and it appeared they would be roommates as well. Viola wasn’t ready to call her a friend just yet, but the pleasant company in the midst of all this unknown was certainly welcome.
Chapter 4
Even with the comfort of a possible new friend, combined with the fact that her first night in the pit really hadn’t been as harsh as she feared, only restless, broken sleep came to Viola that night. Her fitful dreams were filled with old memories, images of the friends she would most likely never see again. She even dreamed of her sheltered life back in Redwater, where even though her existence meant nothing, things were still so simple. Destined to live out her days in the shadows of humans, her life would have played out in the blink of an eye. She would be remembered by no one, loved by no one, but she wouldn’t have been the cause of anyone else’s pain either. A more fitting end, perhaps? Certainly better for those whose lives she had already touched, her tainted fingerprints now burned into their souls like black scars?
Feeling an arctic chill, her eyelids snapped wide open. She gasped, air driving straight into her lungs as she bolted upright. A mere second later, Salina’s ensuing squeal came as little surprise. Two men stood at their bedsides, each holding empty bucks. The water was so cold it was hard to believe. The fact that Viola was so aware of its temperature spoke volumes. Instantly, Salina’s teeth began chattering as she hugged herself, trying to regain a bit of warmth.
“You two have three minutes to be outside and ready to go,” one of the men ordered, flipping his dripping bucket against the wall. “Choose yourselves a partner. You two are in for a long day, so make sure it’s someone you can stand for an extended time.” The other dropped his bucket and both left the room.
When the initial frosty shock all but wore off, Viola shifted from one bed to the other to check on her friend. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Salina and began vigorously rubbing her shoulders. Air whistled between Salina’s teeth as she pushed away from that frosty touch. “I’m sorry!” Viola blurted, hands rising up as she jumped back. “I was just trying to help.” She felt stupid. Having virtually no body heat of her own, she was only making things worse.
“It’s all right. I know you were,” Salina replied. Standing, she began pacing back and forth, rubbing her arms and shoulders. “I’ll be fine, just give me a moment.”
Viola peeked out from their room. She saw several others with wet hair and damp clothes, shaking out like dogs as they cursed. Two were actually shouting at one another, apparently right in the middle of an argument. “It looks like everyone got the same treatment,” Viola said, glancing back at the nearly recovered woman. “Hey, partner, I think we better get going. I don’t imagine you want to get doused with water a second time.”
Smiling at Viola’s attempted joke, Salina’s playful expression suddenly turned serious. Still looking in Viola’s direction, her eyes went wide. It was evident she was no longer looking at her, but through her. Eyes slightly crossed, unfocused, her lips moved softly as if whispering to no one. She blinked once, twice, before a steely glare refocused on Viola. “I am not you partner,” she said flatly. Her tone was not angry, but resolute and final all the same.
“I– But I just thought that—”
“Well, perhaps you should think again instead of making assumptions,” Salina cut her off. Despite her relative calm, she snatched Viola by the wrist, practically dra
gging her out into the hall. Salina scanned about, eyeing those who had already paired up and were making their way towards the gate. There was still a fair amount of shouting going on. Glaring down at who was most likely his roommate, the warrior roared at a much smaller man, his open palm repeatedly smacking the stone wall just above the man’s ear. “There,” Salina pointed, shaking a finger in their direction. “Those two aren’t getting along. That little fellow there, he is your partner. Now go.”
“But—”
“Go!”
Unsure as to what had come over her new friend, Voila spun away and stomped the floor. Why was Salina so adamant about not being her sparring partner? She had to admit she was a little hurt by the harsh rejection. And all the while it had seemed like they were getting along just fine.
Her mind began to connect the dots as she shuffled her feet towards the arguing men. Although she had refused to see it originally, it was nothing more than an old pattern repeating as it always would. Of course Salina didn’t want to be the one person showing kindness to the freak. Why, that would just make her a marked woman among the other humans. Not wanting to be an outcast wasn’t her fault. She was just doing what she had to do. I’m so stupid. When will I learn I wasn’t meant to have friends? She slunk up near the men, but stopped just short of stepping between them. Given how close the argument was to flying fists, that didn’t seem like a good idea.
“You snore like a damn bear!” said the warrior, gripping the smaller man by the collar of his tunic. “I couldn’t sleep a wink. If these damn pillows weren’t so small, I would have smothered you in the night! If you dare keep me up tonight—” Suddenly noticing Viola standing there, both heads turned. “And what the hell are you looking at?”
Viola quickly turned her attention to the smaller man. Frail-looking, especially standing next to the warrior, she could see that he was probably older than Salina. “It seems like you two aren’t getting along so well,” she blurted out nervously.
“Quit yer stalling!” came an angry call from outside the gate.
“You can train with me, if you have no one else...to work with...and...” Unable to finish her barely coherent rambling, her voice trailed off into silence.
The little man scoffed, smacking the large fist off his collar. “Sure, whatever,” he growled, speaking more to the warrior than to her. “I’d rather work with the dead girl than some brainless oaf. Come on then. Looks like I get to beat up on a girl for the day. Or whatever it is you are.” Springing off the wall, he glared at the warrior one last time before heading towards the hall. Head down, Viola followed. From the corner of her eye she could see Salina walking with the only other girl in the group. No doubt she saw her as well but didn’t attempt to make any eye contact.
Herded down the narrow hall, they were each required to grab a sword from an old barrel before marching out onto the sand. The weapons were old and crude, but probably well suited for some light sparring. Despite the lack of breeze down in the pit, the early morning air was plenty cool. The sun having yet to peek up over the high walls, the sandy floor still lay in shadow.
Ozryn was waiting for them, his thick arms folded over his round belly. It was starting to seem as if that scowl was the only expression his face was capable of. Not needing to be told, the group lined up before him, swords gripped loosely in their untrained hands. But Viola held hers firmly, two hands hugging the pommel with the tip sunk down into the sand. It was hard for her to imagine, but it was possible that she just might be the most able fighter here. The obvious exception being the warrior who was standing at the end of the line, his blade slung causally over his right shoulder. He was certainly no novice when it came to weaponry.
But neither was Viola at this point. By her own request, Thatra had pushed her to and beyond her limits in a short period of time. Substantial strides had been made, and there was little doubt she could more than hold her own against any novice swordsman. And this group did not exactly seem like a group of trained fighters. An odd combination of criminals and debtors, yes. But that hardly meant they were battle-ready warriors.
Heads turned to the sound of clapping coming from high above. There stood Kuuma, gazing down on them like some kind of vulture. Continuing his slow clapping for some time, it was unclear as to whether he was truly applauding their first day in the pit or simply taunting them in some fashion. The snickering soldiers behind them hinted at the latter. The scene looked so familiar somehow. Standing where he was, Viola could picture the king as he glared down at her brother the same way Kuuma was looking at them now. It gave her chills. Somehow, it had all just become real. Like her brother, she was now a part of this inhuman freak show.
“Good morning, warriors,” he shouted down, hands spread wide. His deceptively deep voice carried throughout the arena—a deep, powerful boom that should have belonged to a man twice his size. “I trust you’ve slept well and are now ready to begin your journey. But before we begin your training, I need to be clear on what is expected of you from here on out.” With a half turn, he waved his hand back over his shoulder. “As of now, you no longer belong to that world out there. Their society, views, rules, and etiquette no longer apply while you’re here with us.
“That does not mean we do not have rules, but it does mean your punishments will be swift and severe should you break them. Out there,” he swept his hand a second time, “you would be charged with your crime, then ultimately locked away for a determined amount of time. A number of you already know how that works.” A few shuffled their feet in the sand. “Here, it is much more simple. Here, I am god! If you do not obey the commands given by Ozryn, myself, or any of the guards, as they are also your superiors, you will be punished without question.
“With that unpleasant information out of the way, I would now remind you that you are equals among yourselves. Not a one of you is superior to another. You are now brothers and sisters by trial of combat and should embrace your titles with honor. It is your job to defend each other and protect the man or woman fighting at your side. Forget the world you once knew, for it has already forgotten you. We are your family now.” He turned his back to them. “Remember my words and there will be no problems. I now hand you off to your trainer, Ozryn.”
Ozryn stepped forward, his ever-present scowl seeming to cut deep lines into his cheeks and forehead. “So, it seems our time has finally come,” he bellowed. Unlike Kuuma, his deep, gravelly voice fit his looks perfectly. It was exactly what they thought he might sound like if he ever got around to speaking. “Day one of your training begins right now. There are ten of you, and each of you has already chosen a partner, presumably the person you’ve started to bond with at this early stage. Therein lies the true test. Moments from now there will only be five of you.” Confused mutters rattled down the line, heads darting this way and that as if he might be hinting at some unseen danger close by. Like Kuuma had, he too turned his back to them, knuckles planted on his hips. “I think you will find my first command simple enough.
“I want you to kill your partner.”
Viola’s sight contracted as tunnel vision took over, the world around her seemingly engulfed in shadow. She couldn’t see her partner, or anyone else for that matter. All she could focus on was the beastly man’s back, his stance casual as if he had just ordered them to start cooking the morning meal. What started as confused mutters quickly became a rising storm of panicked protests. Gasps, defiant shouts of refusal, and even outright sobbing all blurred together in her ears. It was all little more than a sorrowful song of suffering, its pain swirled together into a dark, traumatic melody.
A pained screech filled the arena, its shrill pitch assaulting eardrums as heads jerked to see what they instinctually already knew it was. Only the dying could make such a sound. Eyes bulged, tongue protruding with unnatural length, the man stood with his chest puffed out. Mercifully, a second push yielded a sword tip that penetrated through the front of his throat. Hand wrapped around his forehead, the warrio
r released his poor victim. The lifeless body thumped down onto the sand.
“Guess my day is done,” the warrior chuckled, eyeing the fresh blood on his palm. Briefly, his hand flinched towards his own tunic before he changed his mind. “The rest of you better hurry up and end this so we can eat,” he said, crouching down to wipe his bloody hand on the dead man’s clothes.
Viola froze, panic racing through her body, rising into her throat. No. No, this can’t be happening. She wanted to run away, but where would she go? The collar suppressed her abilities, leaving her unable to transform. Desperate for a way out, she scanned the upper rim of the pit. Soldiers gazed down, grinning with crossbows in their hands. Even if she could transform, there was nowhere to go. I don’t want to do this. There has to be some other way—
Instinct taking over, her blade flashed to intercept the clumsy strike coming in. Blades crossing with a clang, her partner looked at her with terror-filled eyes. I’m sorry he mouthed silently. He didn’t want this any more than she did, but like her, he could see no other way. He didn’t want to die. Crazed, desperate, no different than any other man fighting for his life, his began flailing his blade in wide, looping circles. Having grown accustomed to Thatra’s skilled swordsmanship, this man’s handling of a sword seemed nothing short of ridiculous. Slapping away his errant strikes with a flick of her wrist, most of which would have missed anyway, Viola continued to back up. Purely defensive in her movements, she needed to buy time to think.
Although she was only partially aware of it, the sounds of battle raged all around her. The clanging of steel, followed shortly by the screams of the dying. The captives’ skill sets were not even at all. Some had moderate skill with a blade, while others had never held a sword in their lives. More often than not, the one-sided fights were over in a flash. Indecision was the real enemy here, and any who hesitated for even a split second would pay with their lives. The first to strike held a significant advantage.