by Lexy Wolfe
“He always forced me to kill with his magic. I tried fighting the compulsion spells, but I couldn’t…” She shook her head sharply. “I hated feeling weak and helpless. I feared who it was I would face next. It hurt so much.” In a quieter voice, she rasped, “But I remember nothing after Zuneer came for me that day. Tambek…”
“You didn’t kill him,” he assured her. “But it must have taken everything you had to throw off the compulsion spell. Urbin told me exactly what happened while Zuneer arranged our escape. You had gotten Tambek on his knees but you held back the death blow. You were shaking with the effort. When you swung, you missed him and threw the sword away.” He closed his eyes. “And you told Alimar no.”
A faint, mirthless smile touched her lips. Her voice filled with bitter sarcasm. “I imagine he was not pleased.”
He snorted. “That’s an understatement. He was so furious, he didn’t even use magic except to jump to the sands. He…he beat you with his bare hands. By the time he was done…” His voice drifted off, throat tightening. She looked up at him. “It was…not a pleasant sight. You just laid there, not moving. I thought…I thought I was alone.” His teeth bared in remembered fury. “I wanted to kill him.”
Tiwaz’s expression clouded. “Why didn’t you?”
He looked away with a sigh. “Because I didn’t want to believe you were gone. I had never seen you so…so broken. Not like that. I only wanted to hold you to life a little longer. It was foolish, I know. We always said if one of us died, the other would go after him. For all any of us knew, you were already dead. But I couldn’t think. I just held you.” He got to his feet, walking away a few steps, his back to her. “But you were alive still. Somehow, impossibly alive. Revenge became secondary to keeping my promise to you.”
“Promise?”
“That we would be free. I did not think you would live much longer. All I could think was I had to get you somewhere safe, away from Griffin Isle and away from him. So your last breaths could be taken in freedom before…” He closed his eyes, shaking his head hard to dislodge the memories. “Nothing else mattered except for my promise to you.”
Tiwaz was silent for several minutes, her expression troubled. “How did you get away without Master…” She stopped, shaking her head as she corrected herself. “Without Alimar finding out?”
“We had help. Urbin and Zuneer at first. Urbin hid us in a lost temple under Shurakh Arln. They use it to hide supplies for those times Alimar would deprive them for punishment. I cleaned and bound your wounds.” He hesitated a moment, rubbing the unusual coins tucked in the bottom of a pouch on his belt, and skipped telling her about the strange dream he’d had. “Zuneer arranged with a man named Juran to get us off the estate and to a ship called the Trade Winds. You know the rest.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. I remember nothing up until I woke up with my abdomen aching but without wounds and being maddeningly exhausted.”
Doom turned back to stare at her. “But you woke up. I told you the captain was going to take us to the Southern Wildlands, but you insisted we couldn’t. You don’t remember?” She turned her face away, shaking her head. “When we got off the ship, I left you with the supplies while I looked for shelter. A wild pig-thing tried to make off with the bag of our food and you found the strength to attack it.”
“Did I win?” she asked in a dull voice, staring at the flames again.
“Did you…? Of course you did. You killed it, but not before it had gored you.” She looked up at the catch in his voice. “When I told you that only death had beaten you, it just made you angry. You tried attacking something, and I thought…You nearly died in my arms, but you weren’t dead. I watched your gut wound close.”
He turned towards her completely when he watched the color drain from her face and her voice barely audible. “Magic? Magic that wasn’t Alimar’s healed me?”
He knelt on one knee and took her hands in his. “I have no idea, Ti. I assume so, but I don’t know where it came from.” He squeezed her hands gently. “I don’t know how or why you survived, but you did. Instead of dying free, we have the chance of living free. If I have been overprotective, it is because within the span of only a few weeks, I nearly lost you twice. I do not want to tempt Fate and risk losing you again. You are the only friend I have. The only one I ever had.” He watched her expression with concern, touching her cheek. “Ti?”
“I remember…Death. I saw Death. It tried to take me and I…” He pulled her into his embrace, holding her close. “I was dead! But Death couldn’t hold me. I wouldn’t leave you.” She embraced him fiercely tight, the emotions that she had suppressed so aggressively welled up, a sob ripped from her throat. “Forgive me. What I did to you, my friend—”
He stroked her hair soothingly, hushing her. “It’s all right, Ti. Everything is all right now.” Releasing her, he picked up the skinning knife and pressed it back into her hands. “Now do you understand why I want to stop so you can rest? I do not know how or why we got this chance, but I want to make sure you get to experience freedom finally.” He squeezed her shoulder. “You deserve at least that much for everything you suffered.”
She looked at his bandaged wrists, bare of the matte black shackles he’d broken days ago. Her eyes turned to her own wrists, glaring at the hated gold of their former master. “Not yet,” she stated in a hard, toneless voice. She put the knife aside and got to her feet, fists clenched. “I am not free yet.”
“Ti, what are you doing?” he asked, following her to the exposed boulder near their camp. She grabbed a large rock, rested one arm on the boulder, and began to pound the shackle. The rock slipped many times to scrape her flesh, blood welling up through the abrasions and bruises darkening around them. “Ti!” he shouted in alarm. “Stop, you’re hurting yourself!”
“I will be free!” Tiwaz stated, each word punctuated with the pounding of the rock, repeating it in litany. Blood began oozing from under both metal cuffs as she continued her heedless beating of the symbols tying her to the past. Doom could only watch helplessly, wincing whenever she hit her herself. The blows came slower and weaker, her breath catching in despair that she failed. “I will be,” she began, the rock slipping from the shackle on the final word, one bracer striking the other. “Free.”
Doom jerked back, raising an arm to shield his eyes as blinding light flashed and the sound of metal shattering nearly deafened him. He went to the sobbing woman lying across the boulder, helping her sit up. As relieved as he was that she was free of the magic-imbued shackles at long last, he felt his stomach lurch at the sight of her wrists. He could not bring himself to touch the grotesquely twisted flesh, oozing putrescence and blood. Movement just under the skin made it appear as though something alive coiled beneath it.
The memories flooded back of when Alimar had taken her away and she returned with the shackles, her symbols of shame. Gathering her in his arms, he carried her back to camp. “Oh, Ti. What had he done to you?”
Nearly unconscious, head resting on his shoulder, Tiwaz smiled, putting her bloody hand on his chest. “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “I will be free.”
"HOLD STILL,” TIWAZ chided as she stitched the gash across the gromek’s broad forearm. “I am used to being mended, not mending.” Doom struggled to obey by clenching a rock as hard as he did his teeth. The audible snap drew both their attentions to pieces of crushed stone in his hand. She sighed in weariness before resuming her work. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Doom managed to say through his teeth. “Mine for getting caught by that bear.”
“It was my fault for drawing its attention,” she retorted sullenly. “The bear hurt you because of me. You said I was not ready to hunt, but I insisted and you had to protect me from my own hubris.” A grunt and flinch of pain made her sigh even more. “Now you might be crippled.”
“Gods’ sake, Ti,” Doom snapped when she tied off the thread, stopping her as she reached for the ointment and bandages. “I will b
e fine. Yes, the wound was deep, but not too deep. Even if it hurts, I can still move my fingers and my arm.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “It will heal. I am not mad at you. I used to get hurt all the time.”
She looked up with a frown, then away, eyes on the ointment she slathered on the stitches before wrapping bandages around his arm. “How did I never notice? Was I so self-absorbed I did not see you were as much in need of tending as I was?”
“Of course not. Urbin used to sneak me healing ointments when the injuries were bad. I don’t need clothes, remember? Temperature extremes never really bother me. I use them to hide my disfigurement. They also helped to hide the bandages from you.” He instinctively raised his uninjured arm to protect his face when she stood and tried to backhand him. “Hey! You had enough to deal with what Alimar dumped on you. I didn’t want to burden you—”
“Burden me? You didn’t trust me to help you as you have always helped me?” Her eyes flashed in the dim light. He couldn’t miss the hurt in their depths. “Is that what I am to you? A burden?” She turned to stalk away.
Perplexed, Doom caught her wrist to stop her and turned her to face him. “I always felt I was more a burden to you. I have never said you were a burden, never thought it, never felt it. What in the world gave you that idea?” He tugged her gently. “Ti, please, talk to me. What is bothering you?”
For many long minutes, he held her there, waiting for her to speak. “I did everything to protect you from Master. I never failed to obey his orders, never lost a battle in the arena, never failed to protect him from his failed experiments or from those few foolish enough to try attacking him. I knew if I failed, he would hurt you, and it would be my fault. Being hurt never mattered. Every injury was worth it to me if it spared you.
“But I never realized you still suffered from wounds that you had to tend alone. I never noticed how much my arguing with you hurt you. I did not know my injuries were a burden to you.”
Doom blinked at the implied circle of logic. “Oh, Ti, no. Tending to your injuries was the only way I could repay you for everything you had to endure. I never blamed you when you couldn’t meet Alimar’s demands and he punished me. But you blamed yourself. Ruthlessly blamed yourself. Nothing I said or did helped and I hated seeing you hurting yourself. He hurt you so much, and you added your own hurt.
“I just…I knew you would feel responsible for my injuries so I…hid them from you.” He closed his eyes. “The guilt that you suffered for me and that I could not do more than splint, stitch or bandage your wounds… It made me sick feeling so inadequate. That was the burden, but it was not your fault. Alimar forced us to suffer to protect each other.” He released her, watching her take several steps away. Her fists clenched at her sides and she trembled with restrained emotion.
He continued in an even, calming tone. “Being a hunter, a woodsman, is not a safe profession. Urbin said getting hurt is normal for even one as experienced as him. But he feared that Alimar would use my getting injured or failing whatever tasks he set for me to hurt you.” He added, “And I did not want you distracted worrying about me when I was out in the forests.” She did not say anything or move for so long, he frowned in concern, forcing himself to wait her out.
“We took care of each other when we were slaves. Now we are free. You have skills to survive without needing me. Hunting, cooking, finding shelter, making things like fires and tools. What do I know? What can I do to survive? To earn my place? Nothing.” She looked at her palms. “I know only how to fight to amuse people. I bleed to make them cheer. I caused suffering to my opponents just to entertain.” She waved her hands wildly. “Trees and squirrels care nothing for gladiator fights. I am worthless to you!”
Doom closed the distance between them, standing in front of her. His scowl was dark and angry. “You are not worthless! It will take time for you to learn what I had, but you are not worthless. I need you.”
“Need me? Why? What use am I to you?” she demanded. “Tell me!” Grabbing the hand of his injured arm, she pulled it up to brandish the blood-stained bandages. “The bear hurt you because of me! This time, it was not very serious. Next time, it might be worse and I would know nothing of how to help you! I cannot protect you. It isn’t like it was before.”
He loomed over the woman, meeting glare for glare. “I need you because you are the only person alive who does not fear me!” She blinked at his bellow, not intimidated, but confused. “Do you have any idea what having everyone fear you is like? Knowing that just existing terrifies people? To have them not even be able to look at your face without smelling of fear?”
The gromek brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, his voice gentle. “Except for you, Ti. You did not care what I looked like. You never did. When he disfigured me, you didn’t even know me. You were hurt, but you tried to protect me from Alimar and suffered for it. You did not care I was too weak to stand up for myself.”
“You were not weak. He hurt you,” Tiwaz stated. “He stole parts of your body from you with his perverted magic. I had to do something, even if all I could do was useless.”
“You did more than you realize.” Doom looked into her eyes. “Without you, I would be alone and I can’t…gromeks need others around them. We are a communal race. It tortured me every time he took you away. My heart ached when I thought you were dead, not only because I failed to keep my promises to you, but because I thought I was alone. I had no reason to live.
“But you weren’t dead, and you gave me hope. Gave me purpose. I believed you were dying, so I risked Alimar’s wrath to escape with you just so you would be free. I promised you freedom. I knew once you died, it would not be long before—”
“No!” She covered his mouth with both hands. “No, don’t say it. I don’t want to hear—”
With his good hand, he clasped hers pulling it from his lips to over his heart. “I would be dead without you, Ti. Your living gives me reason to live. I promise you. I will teach you everything I know that you want to learn, about hunting and healing. Anything. Everything. Just please, trust me to know when you’re ready. I had ten years to learn what I know. It has only been a few weeks that I could teach you any of it.”
Her shoulders sagged in defeat and she nodded. “I will try. I still feel I am more useless than not to you.” He put his arm around her, leading her back to camp.
Lifting one of her hands, he looked at the blood-soaked bandages. “I do not understand why these are not healing. We need to change these.”
“No. We’re running out of medical supplies,” she stated as she sat again. “They will be fine.”
“Tiwaz, be reasonable,” Doom argued in a gentler voice.
“I am.” She held up her hand. “I have lived with these without healing for a decade. You need the medicines more than me.” After several minutes, she pointed out in a quiet voice, “We cannot avoid people forever and you can’t find or make everything we need. We need to go into a town to buy supplies.”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “Ti, we have nothing with which to buy anything. And neither of us are thieves.” He touched the pouch on his hip. “We do have some coins, but I am afraid they might raise suspicion. Urbin used to tell me stories about how foreigners would draw attention by their unusual money, and I have no idea what is normal.”
She was undaunted. “We may as well start learning how to earn money then. Your skills help us out here. I have skills that can help in a town or city, depending on which one it is.” She waved at his pouch. “You said that map tells you where we are. Which city are we closest to?”
Doom stared, incredulous. “The skills you have are used in the gladiatorial arenas.” She did not say a word, waiting for him to answer her question. “You mean to fight?! Ti, I cannot believe you still want to be a gladiator after—”
“What I want is irrelevant! It is what I am,” she told him in sharp tones. “No matter why I am what I am, it is foolish to try denying what I am. Or to ignore useful skills just be
cause of how I learned them.” She put her fist over her heart. “I am a gladiator. I’m the best at what I do. Or at least, I was the best.” Eyes narrowed, she added caustically, “I do not have to kill anyone to win. The Death Duels had been outlawed in the Western Empire and I am good enough not to kill anyone by accident.”
“Then why—? Nevermind.” Irritated, Doom fussed with the campfire, adding another log to it. “Alimar’s arena was not a public one. He could do whatever he wanted.”
“Exactly. Now tell me. What city is closest to us?”
Knowing she would not be dissuaded, and conceding she was right about their need for supplies, Doom took the map out. He spoke after several minutes examining it. “Dramaden.” He frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“I used to fight there until a year ago when Alimar decided he wanted me in illegal death matches. He never took me off Griffin Isle again. I remember the arena master there. Harther Narrik. If he is still there, I think he’ll help us.”
He frowned. “If? You think? I don’t like the sound of that. What if—?”
“We’ll deal with what-if’s if they happen, when they happen. How far is Dramaden from here? We should plan on going in after dark, just to be safe.”
“No one would be in the arena after dark,” he told her, hoping that something might change her mind about fighting again.
“Western Empire arena-masters live in their arenas. It’s tradition. When the main season is over, they can go somewhere else if they want, but Master Narrick doesn’t.” She looked at him with sad understanding. “I know you don’t like me fighting, but trust me as I trust you? Harther Narrik is a good man. He doesn’t believe in slave gladiators. Said they never fight as well as the ones making money. Well, except for me, he said.” Her tiny, fond smile reflected sadness as well. “He had even offered to help me escape.”
Doom looked surprised. “And you didn’t take the chance?”