Call to Arms (The Girl In The Arena Book 1)

by Lara Lee Hunter

  The crowd roared and screamed. Chants filled the air and she deliberately stared at the light as they walked toward it, trying to prepare her eyes for the assault of the sun. Terror had left her; there was nothing inside her but a deathly stillness.

  Reena did not know it yet, but that would be what saved her life that day. She entered the arena and the crowd roared and cheered or booed. The Governor sat in a long, heavily decorated box that jutted out over the arena and she looked up at him and he stood.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, people of Aretula, I give you—the first female gladiator in history!”

  Hatred filled her but she sloughed it off like dead skin from a snake’s back. She could not afford hatred, not now. The gates across from hers opened and she looked, thinking she would see the man she was to go up against, but all she saw was the chubby man who had been put into the arena with her.

  Her heart sank. This was who she was saving? Where was her father or the girl Nemia? Why this man? He was the biggest coward she had ever seen and even now he was crying and shaking like a leaf about to fall from a tree.

  The crowd hissed and howled laughter as he fell to his knees, spouting out gibberish. The Governor called for silence and then he announced, “I hereby decree that this man’s life shall be forfeit if she loses but shall be saved if she wins.”

  Reena stood, stony and calm. There was nothing else she could do right then and she knew it. There would be plenty of time later for emotions and thoughts. Right now there was only her, the hot sand below her feet and the gate swinging open to reveal a scarred and brutal looking man striding out toward her.

  A mace swung from one of his hands and a sword was buckled to his side. He was going to kill her! The mace whipped around and the crowd cheered. The fight had begun!

  Reena had fought a few times in her life, mostly little scuffles between herself and other outlaw children. None of them had prepared her for this, neither had her training. This man was as desperate to live as she was, and there was no way to fake that in training.

  His hand reached out and caught her long hair, dragging her toward him while the mace arced down.

  Reena’s scalp tore as she twisted down and sideways. A cry of pain came from her mouth and her hands shook. The blade came out and she tried to drive it into his chest but he knocked her aside easily, sending her crashing to the sand halfway across the arena.

  The blow made her dizzy but it also got her out of his reach. She scrambled to her feet, her hand going back to the amulet but before she could open it he had drawn the sword and come after her again. The blade left a shallow nick on her right arm but the sight of her own blood galvanized her; she kicked out hard and connected with his testicles.

  Obviously that was not a move they generally taught to soldiers, because he doubled over with a high keening wail and many in the stands laughed and others jeered at her bad sportsmanship.

  His head was down and she took advantage of that fact by kicking him again, that time in the top of his thigh. That took him to one knee and she felt hope rising but then he shook off her feeble attack and came after her again, the sword glimmering and glinting in the sunlight.

  Reena kicked at the sand and it flew up in a gout, struck him in the face and his gaze wavered just long enough for her to sidestep the blade.

  She was just hanging on, hoping to find an opportunity to throw the god’s fire into his face, but the fear that had dissipated was back and in full force, making her unable to think clearly.

  He swung the sword and caught her just as she was turning to flee; blood spilled from her left arm that time. A neat slice opened in her flesh and she knew that if she did not do something soon he would simply hack her to bits right there where she stood.

  She did not want to kill him. That was the problem. She was seeing him as another human being, one forced into this battle just like she had been. She knew that was a bad way to think, but it was still true. He deserved to live just as much as she did.

  The blade! His face came close to hers again but the mace was whipping around it. She could hear the swish and fall of that heavy weapon as it swung on its chain’s axis. Her heartbeat slowed and time stood still.

  Reena pulled the blade out of her belt and threw it in an almost causal gesture, the same gesture her father had taught her years ago. The blade hit him in the throat and he staggered backward. She reached for the amulet but he dropped to his knees, a long gobbling sound coming from his mouth.

  He was injured and badly, but he was not dead! Reena’s eyes widened in horror as he reached for the blade and yanked it loose from his throat. Blood came out in a small fountain that made the crowd’s cheers reach a maddened peak.

  “Girl,” he said in an almost wondering voice, regaining his feet and stumbling as he came toward her with the mace once again twirling.

  He had to know his wound was fatal! He had to know it and yet he was still trying to kill her! Reena’s horror gave way to a deeper emotion, the will to live. She spotted her blade in the sand; there was no way to reach it and to use the god’s fire now, as it would be wasted and it would be seen now. She had lost whatever opportunity she had to use it in stealth as Hector had told her to do.

  The mace swung and she barely got out of its path that time; she felt the wind from its passing on her shoulder. She went down and as he came toward her, she shot a leg up high below his leather kilt, kicking him in that soft and unprotected flesh again and more seriously this time.

  The crowd shrieked along with her opponent. He toppled over, and his blood made small caked up designs on the sand. Reena rolled over, her fingers clutching desperately at the ground as she tried to get her blade.

  His hand came down on her heel and he began to haul her towards him, reeling her in like a fish, just like he had done with her hair. Reena fought back but the sand was slick and her fingers slid right through it, granting her no purchase.

  Frantic to get away, she rolled over and jackknifed her body upward, her forehead connecting so solidly with his that she saw stars exploding in her vision field. His eyes glazed over and Reena grabbed the sword he had dropped.

  She kicked her way to her feet and stood over him, the sword in her hand. She knew she had to do it, to kill him. She could not bear to. The crowd was screaming, holding their thumbs out in the down position that meant they wanted to see her opponent die.

  She stared down at his face, at the bloody wound in his throat and her lips trembled as she spoke. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, kill me. Send me to Elysium. Soldier’s death.” His hand waved at the air and she took a long breath.

  The Governor raised his hands and silence fell again. Reena looked up to see him walking to the front of his box. He held out one fist and then he turned his thumb down.

  He was ordering her to kill that man.

  Reena dropped the sword and raised her own hand. There was a salute that her father had taught her years ago a one-fingered thing that meant defiance. She used it and the silence grew even thicker.

  Below her the solider gasped once more and lay still, his blood a thick maroon spill on her shoes. “He’s dead!” Reena shouted. “I’m your victor!”

  The whispers of the crowd were too loud and she could see that Governor’s face from where she stood. It was white with anger, and his mouth was turned into a thin hard line. Reena knew what she had just done was the same thing as treason but wasn’t that why she was here anyway? What could he do to her now? Put her in the arena?

  The crowd began to chant and she took a deep breath, staring at the sea of faces in the stands, “Victor, victor!”

  They were leaving the Governor no choice, although Reena did not know that. All she knew was that he was seriously angry but there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it. She had won her battle.

  “Release the prisoner!” The cry echoed across the arena and the large man that had been sobbing in a corner near a wall looked up, his tear-smeared face holding an emotion R
eena could not stand to see. He began to run, screaming and still sobbing, his flesh wobbling, toward the walls and the guards opened the gates for him, letting him pass through them.

  “Remove the gladiator. Bring in the next battle, I grow tired of this one!” The Governor’s words brought a cheer and Reena began to cry silently as they took her out of the arena.

  As they marched along the passageways she dried her tears. She would not let them see her cry. The Governor appeared, his face filled with rage and the soldiers guarding her came to an abrupt and silent halt.

  “You surprised me.”

  Reena wanted to say many things but she was afraid that if she spoke her voice would shake and betray her so she stood mutely while he looked at her a little more closely. When she did not answer he spoke again. “Now I shall surprise you. Your last match has been decided. I decided it. There is a boy named Talon, he will be your last battle—if you make it that far.”

  He walked away, leaving her staring after him.

  **

  Chapter 5

  Reena managed to keep an inscrutable mask on her face until she was alone in her cell, but once there it fell away.

  Talon! Her final match was against Talon! Her mouth formed a perfect O and tears fell down her cheeks before she could stop them. How could she possibly fight him? He was her friend! He had been Culled, she had watched that happen with her own eyes. His father had fed her and her father, had sheltered them as well, despite the fact that doing so could have been a death sentence.

  How could she fight Talon? How could she not? Her life depended on it, so did…her heart twisted sickly in her chest.

  The cell door clattered opened and she looked up, not caring that her tears were visible, not caring that she was covered in blood and gore. Hector stood there, looking down at her, his face unreadable.

  “You lived.”

  “What good is it?”

  “Ask the gods.”

  “Maybe they don’t care.” Her own bitterness startled her. Today she had watched a man she had only met once run across an arena screaming and crying as he was allowed his freedom, freedom she had earned with the life of another man. “I killed a soldier to save a coward. Perhaps the gods find that amusing.”

  “The man you killed died as he wanted to—covered with blood and in battle. That was his life, and he died as he lived. Do not mourn him, celebrate him.”

  Reena used the blanket to wipe her streaming eyes. “You are not helping Hector.”

  “I was sent here to make sure you are ready for tomorrow’s battle.”

  “Of course I’m not.” Her words were hollow but they fell into the silence like bricks and lay there just as heavily. “Even if I live through all the battles to the one that will set my father free I will have to fight a friend in order to…don’t you understand? Talon is a friend. Can’t you do something to help me Hector?”

  “Yes, I can. But I won’t.”

  Reena jumped to her feet, her anger nearly blinding her. “You bastard!” Her shout echoed around the small chamber. She lashed out but he caught her hands and held them, so she kicked out instead, nearly shattering her foot on his tough shins.

  “Let me know when you are done with that useless anger. All you are doing is tiring yourself out and tomorrow you have a battle.”

  “I have killed someone. Do you know what that means?”

  “Yes, I do. It means you are alive.”

  “Hector, I can’t fight Talon. I won’t.”

  “Then you will die. That boy is not the one you knew, not anymore. They saw to that. He was trained in the Targut camp. Over there they wash their minds clean of everything so they can turn them into killing machines. They have always held the most victories of any training camp. They turn out gladiators who become legends. Remember that when you go up against him, you remember him—but he does not know you, not at all.”

  “Maybe he will know me when he sees me.”

  “What he will see is a moving target.”

  The silence spun out. Finally Hector sighed and said, “I came here to give advice, do you want it?”

  “Run like the place is on fire?” The humor in her voice was false but it was all she had.

  “Cut your hair Reena. It almost got you killed today. Don’t let it get you killed tomorrow.”

  She looked away from him. Cut her hair? No! That was all she had left to remind her of her mother! But he was right, and she knew it. Grayson had almost killed her today and might have if he had been able to use her hair as a rope to haul her in. She remembered what that felt like all too well and her heart pounded against her ribs.

  “Why is this happening to me Hector?”

  “Because the gods chose you.”

  “Chose me for what?”

  “I don’t know but they had to have a purpose in mind. Keep your head up, there are still many more battles before you have to fight your old friend, maybe things will change before then.”

  Reena sat there, her arms wrapped around her legs, every limb trembling. She had murdered a man today, and yet nobody thought what she had done was wrong. If she had done that out in the woods, trying to protect her home or her family or even her own life she would have been branded a traitor and an Outlaw. She would have been ordered to die.

  Again.

  She ripped the bloody clothes off, tossing them out the window of her cell. She watched them float to the ground below but they did not stay there long. Two little boys wearing rags and carrying a plain woven basket snatched them up and ran away with them.

  “They just took my clothes,” she said in a wondering voice.

  “They will sell them in the marketplace. You just gave them enough money to eat for a week.”

  Reena screamed and whirled around to see River looking n at her. She grabbed the blanket off her pallet and hastily covered her nude body with it. “Why are you spying on me?”

  “I brought your meal.”

  Reena was instantly sorry; she had no business screaming at him, his life was hard enough. “Thank you. How was your day?”

  He blinked at her. Reena could tell nobody had ever asked him that before and she wanted to weep with the unfairness of it all. “You’re going to need clothes.”

  “I know.”

  “My mother is a seamstress for one of the houses along the river. I’ll go to see her tonight; maybe she has something you could wear. You can’t go in the arena naked.” A slim grin lifted his lips. “Not that there is anything wrong with you naked.”

  Reena tried to give him a lofty stare but it failed. She took her meal from him and broke the chunk of bread in half, divided the steaming fowl into pieces and pushed them at him. River looked at her, his eyes grave as he said, “You need to eat that.”

  “I am going to try to eat what I have here but…after today…” Her throat closed and she had to fight to keep her eyes dry. “Look at me River, am I a monster?”

  ‘No, you’re just what they are making you be.”

  Her voice shook, “And what is that?”

  He came a little closer to her door and he looked up and down the hallway before he spoke in the softest of whispers. “They are chanting your name out in the streets. They say you are making the Governor look like a fool. The people think you are going to be the straw that breaks the Senate’s back and makes them decide to overthrow him once and for all.”

  What? Thunderstruck, all she could do was stare at him. River ate hastily, wiping his hands clean on the rushes that lay on the floor so that no grease or crumb would betray him. When he finished he said, “I will see you in the morning.”

  He left before she could say anything else and she went back to the window and peered out at the darkening streets. The people never noticed the time here in the city, or so it seemed. They were always moving about and the lateness or earliness of the hours never seemed to matter to them.

  Right now there were men down there singing and laughing as they stumbled along, a heavily curtaine
d litter was pausing near a shop and hordes of urchins were running amok, begging for food and money or favors from the rich passer-by.

  Looking down, Reena realized that what she was staring at was life. It was a life that was far different than the one she had known before, but it was still life. She rested her head against the bars and closed her eyes, trying not to remember the screams of the man whose freedom she had one today.

  Now that it was over, she knew why she had hated them so much, why she felt the urge to send a knife flying in his direction. He had expressed the fear and the sorrow that she had not been able to express there in the arena. He’d run away, he’d had the luxury of being able to run away and she hadn’t.

  Where was he right now? Drinking in a tavern, telling all of his friends about how he’d escaped death so narrowly? Or was he hiding, afraid that somebody would see him and recognize him from his ignominious flight from the arena?

  Tomorrow would be a new day and she would have to kill somebody else. She knew Hector was right, she had almost gotten herself killed today but she just could not bring herself to cut her hair.

  The sky turned darker yet; stars came out and went down on citizens of the city. Reena watched them until dawn cracked its way across the sky.

  **

  She had fallen asleep at the window, and her entire body was stiff and cold. She ached everywhere and as she tried to climb to her feet she realized that she had lost the blanket somewhere in the night. She found it, snatching it up hastily as River paused in front of her door.

  “I brought you something.” He was grinning and she drew closer.

  “What is it?”

  “My mother made this, it was for one of the boys of the house but he did not like it, so since I thought it would fit you, she added some things to it and now you can wear it in the arena.”

  Reena stared as he pulled garments from below his own rough rope. The shirt was one piece; it tied on the sides with bright red lacy ends; the heavy leather had been worked until it was supple and soft but the over shirt was not. That leather was tough, almost hard. While it also had red laces as decorations, this time in the front, she knew that it would easily deflect a knife blade although would not give her much protection against a mace or anything else.