Bloodlust: A Gladiator's Tale

by C. P. D. Harris

  Walking out onto the spacious training grounds, Gavin made his way to the running track. He saw a few tired looking Grey-Robes and nodded to them, wishing Cleothera had not returned to Camp Valorous. He could talk to her about things he would not want to discuss with another Gladiator, even with Sadira. The only other Gladiator he saw on the grounds was the athletic Azure Dream of the Blues. He studiously ignored her; he did not hate the Blues like many other Red Faction fighters professed to, but he did not desire a confrontation. The last thing he wanted was a Blue to start making fun of him for his poor last performance. He started stretching, pushing the limits of his flexibility, getting lost in his thoughts; going over his failures, recent and old, thinking what he would do if he could take them back. He did not notice Azure Dream until she was right beside him, clearing her throat. Grey-Robes appeared nearby.

  "Hi. You’re Gavin, right?" The tall, dark-skinned Gladiatrix's confident smile was disarming and infectious; it nearly put Gavin at ease. "Where is the rest of your team?"

  "They are enjoying a holiday actually," he said, not bothering to hide his suspicion. The only time the Reds and Blues really talked to each other was to trade insults, in his experience. He waited for the jibe he was sure would come.

  "Sounds like fun!" she said, still smiling, her tone casual and friendly. "Can you pass a message on for me, please?"

  "It depends on the message," he responded, thinking back to Dreadwood Junction and Bella's death at Sadira's hands; he could not stomach a similar situation. Sadira was a prime target to any ambitious Blue who wanted to gain fame by beating her, although few of them had the spine to try it seemed.

  "I just want to talk to Sadira," she said, grinning broadly. "Nothing serious, nothing for you to get worried about, defender; I wanted to thank her for stopping that clockwork cobra from eating my face in the last match we were in together. I also would like to compliment her for her match against the Blue Hornet last month. And that last strike in our first match together, the sword blossom, I sometimes dream about that. She is really good..."

  "Yes, she is." He suppressed a chuckle; it seemed that his beloved was making fans even among her competition. If Azure Dream wanted to cause trouble, she was doing a superb job of hiding it. "I will pass your message along; she will be glad to hear it."

  "My thanks, Gavin, Ezuis keep you." She smiled at him again, coquettish and challenging, before leaving. Pure skirmisher, he thought, shaking his head.

  While he finished stretching, he pondered Sadira's growing fame; he wondered if he was jealous. Some days, he did not want to share her with the rest of world. How would their lives be changed when she stood among the Chosen? Would she still want him at her side? He ran wind-sprints until his lungs burned, trying to clear his mind, and then jogged around the track until his legs ached. For an hour it seemed as if he could outrun his doubts, but they always caught up to him. He spent the last hour of his jog trying to reclaim the peace of the first. After this he returned to the Red Faction residence and spent an hour swimming. The pool was his preferred form of endurance training and conditioning; it did not give him as much time to think as jogging, which made it more relaxing when he was feeling moody.

  The spring fed waters of the pools of Scorpion's Oasis were particularly soothing, giving credit to the rumours that they were fed by a pure font of elemental water somewhere below the town. Gavin was not sure of the truth of this, but he always felt greatly revitalized after a dip in the pool here. Perhaps it was psychological. He would have loved to explore the caves beneath the hills one day and see the truth for himself.

  Later, he went out to the sands to practice his kata, a series of repeated motions performed over and over again that help the Gladiator master complex fighting moves He jabbed with his spear, shifted his balance to the heel of his back leg, jabbed again, and repeated; a simple series to start. He practised one thousand jabs before moving on to the next kata, his movements carrying him across the training grounds and back several times as he flowed through dozens of fighting moves he had learned over his life as a Gladiator, from the simple to the complex.

  He moved slowly at first, ensuring perfect motions. Gradually he increased his speed, moving faster and faster, trying to improve his lightning quick manoeuvres without introducing reckless movements into the flow. He flew through the kata at blinding speed now, stopping only when his concentration strayed which, of course, always caused him to falter. He spent the next two hours repeating this, pausing only when his mid-day hunger got the best of him.

  And yet doubt still shadowed Gavin as he walked back into the residence; it was as if he was at war with himself again. His foolish loss had uncovered some deeply hidden character flaw. He could not shake the feeling that Shield-Splitter was right; he owed most of his success to Sadira. What would he be without her? The massive Ogre had just been engaging in the usual banter between two fighters, trying to throw him off, and yet the taunts had been an echo of his inner turmoil. He often did not feel he was pulling his weight on the team, or that he was worthy of the love of the skilled and lively Sadira.

  He moved through the richly laid buffet like a ghost, passing trays heaped with fresh fruits from all corners of the Domains, weaving his way past well-coiffed servants carrying trays of delicacies, barely noticing the wondrous aroma of spices and the sounds of frying meats. He grabbed two green apples, some juice, and a few pieces of a potent-smelling, northern-style soft cheese from the Sky Isles and sat down in a corner, alone with his thoughts.

  Gavin considered if he had made the wrong choice in becoming a Gladiator, a thought that often haunted him on dark days. Like all those born with the Gift who chose the arena in their youth he had been sure he would fight his way into the rank of the Chosen one day, but that dream seemed distant now. He remembered looking down on all of the broken, failed, retired Gladiators with pity and contempt for giving up; he now realized how foolish this attitude had been. Not everyone could become a Chosen; there were only a hundred and five of those and their ranks only increased by one every fifty years, unless one of them disappeared or somehow died.

  Would he be happier if he had become a Vassal instead of a Gladiator? A Vassal could earn his freedom through service to the Domains; it was a much surer path than trying to win your way into the ranks of the Chosen. Free vassals could even raise children. He and Sadira often talked about having a child, but active Gladiators were not allowed to raise any children they bore. Of course he could become a Vassal even now, go through the ritual of severing and be cut off from the more dangerous aspects of magic. He didn't think he could do that; he loved his magic, even the more violent and destructive aspects of it. He would be giving up his freedom to use his Gift, for freedom from the trials of the arena. What kind of monstrous society would demand he make such a choice?

  A shadow passed over his plate.

  "Mind if I sit here?" said a voice that rumbled like rocks in a slow motion avalanche. It was Sax, the master ranked Ogre who had taken an interest in Gavin after learning that their weapons shared the same maker's mark, a fact of great significance to the older fighter. Although Sax too was an Ogre, he bore little resemblance to Shield-Splitter; he was nearly as tall but much leaner and his storm-cloud grey eyes seemed to take in everything without shifting. Gavin nodded in greeting; he was curious about the taciturn Gladiator.

  Sax nodded to him, sat down, and started to eat without saying another word. He had a rather modest meal for a Gladiator of his size, and Gavin recalled that he was a light-armoured fighter; most of the naturally larger races tended toward heavy armour simply because they were already strong enough to carry the extra weight without any special training. Some, like Sax, still preferred mobility over protection; a fast moving fighter with the natural strength of an Ogre was often able to end a fight before it started. Idly, he wondered how Sax would have handled the massive Shield-Splitter.

  "I would have hit him and backed off," said the Ogre suddenly, looking up from
his plate for a moment. The unerring accuracy of his comment unnerved Gavin, making him wonder for a moment if Sax had read his mind with a subtle spell. "Tire him out and slow him down before moving in for the kill." Sax chuckled at the expression on Gavin's face. "Don't be surprised. I saw you on the training grounds today. You made a few mistakes in your kata; it doesn't take a Cogimancer to see that you're upset at losing your last fight. We can talk about it if you want; I won't be offended either way."

  Gavin stared at the older Gladiator for a heartbeat. Strange how Sax's face was no more lined than his own, and yet Gavin could see something in his eyes and expression that spoke of many more nuances learned. The Ogre seemed to be surrounded by an aura of calm, like nothing ever bothered him, despite his taciturn mannerisms. "Sure," he answered.

  "You might not like what I have to say," added Sax.

  "I got too aggressive, I guess," sighed Gavin. Sax looked at him, eyebrow cocked, grey eyes drilling into his.

  "Really?" Sax let a little harshness creep into his voice. "You were winning and threw it away because you were too aggressive? I don't think so. You looked angry. There is a world of difference between anger and aggression. You fell for some campus-ground taunt. You're lucky it wasn't a dirty-fighting skirmisher you were up against, boy; they would have made you look much worse. Some Gladiators thrive on your mistakes. That Ogre gave you two good chances to win, maybe three, and you pissed 'em away because you couldn't control yourself."

  Anger shot through Gavin, molten and electric. He stood up slamming his fist on the table, face twisting. Other Gladiators in the hall looked toward the commotion, and he saw a flash of grey appear out of the corner of his eyes.

  Sax held his gaze, calm and appraising. A small knowing smile appeared on the Ogre's face. Embarrassment overcame Gavin's anger and he looked away. He felt shame at losing control. He thought about storming off, but what would that accomplish besides worthless drama? After an endless moment he sat down, looking the Ogre in the eye.

  "Something is bothering you, son. Something deep down I'd wager," said the Ogre in a low tone, once everyone had stopped looking at them. "I know you aren't ready to talk about it yet. I don't think you'd want to listen to this broken down old Ogre's advice even if you were. However, do remember that the path is not easy for everyone; the worst obstacle many of us face is ourselves. You are a better fighter than you let yourself be, Gavin."

  Gavin looked up at Sax. He still felt a little resentful and ashamed of how quickly his anger had overcome him. But the Ogre's words rang true. Sax looked back at him; his even, measured gaze reminded Gavin of Master Ironwall, the Dwarf who had tutored him in the Enduring Bulwark school of shield defence.

  "Don't feel too badly," said Sax with a hint of a smile. "I've been there before, more times than I'd like to admit... but enough talk. I may actually get a match in this season and I need someone tough to practice on. Would you mind helping me out?"

  -----o

  Sax joined Gavin on the training grounds often after that day, and eventually he became a regular part of their training sessions. Sadira was pleased to see this; the Ogre's presence seemed to mollify Gavin a little. The veteran Gladiator was a great help to her as well, taking away some of the pressures of leadership. He would offer critiques when asked, and he was a repository of practical information about arena tactics and useful moves. He seemed imperturbable and even the normally confrontational Karmal was respectful of the grizzled master.

  -----o

  True to his word, Gavin mentioned to Sadira that Azure Dream wanted to talk to her.

  Sadira wasn't sure she wanted to meet with the Blue Gladiatrix; the competition between Factions was anything but friendly, and so she did not pursue the matter further herself. Yet she was not surprised to see the statuesque Gladiatrix walking toward her, smiling, one day on the training grounds. She moved over to Azure Dream before any of the other Reds could intercept the dark-skinned woman to cause trouble.

  "Hi, you're Azure Dream, yes?" Sadira had to look up to meet the tall human woman's eyes. She did her best to look friendly. She offered her hand, and the other woman took it without hesitation, shaking vigorously. Azure Dream had a strong grip, even for a Gladiatrix, and an infectious smile.

  "Yes. Hi... I'm happy to meet you at last, Red Scorpion" She leaned on her halberd, looking at the ground for a moment, digging her foot into the sand. "You probably don't remember this, but I was in Dreadwood Junction when you were there. I saw your Deathmatch with Bella there, before you left."

  Sadira raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t sure what to think. The other woman's face was full of sincerity, but Azure Dream was trained as a skirmisher, like Ravius, who could seem very sincere even when he was not. Sadira decided to trust her, for now; it was a waste of energy to be suspicious of everyone, after all. "I'm afraid I don't know much about you, Honoured Gladiatrix. I have to admit you've caught me off guard."

  The Blue Gladiatrix laughed. "I know your real name is Sadira; mine is Minerva." Her teeth flashed when she smiled. "Listen, we may be competitors in the arena right now, but I really like your style. You might say I'm a fan. I'm also really thankful that you stopped me from getting my face chewed in that fight with the clockwork snakes. We can let the boys get silly and territorial about Faction loyalty, but we women know better, right?"

  "I consider us even, Minerva," Sadira smiled. "After all you kept your minotaur team-mate from accidentally stepping on me that fight. Speaking of faces getting eaten, how is Blue Calamity?

  "He might not fight again this season," Minerva said thoughtfully,"although I heard that he was more worried about his 'beautiful face' than the loss. That's why he wears the mask I guess; he's a little weird if you ask me. So tell me, what was going through your head when you beat Blue Hornet last month. That was an absolutely brilliant match!"

  "Thanks." Sadira smiled, enjoying the praise. She could see Karmal making a face at them, reminding her that not all women were less territorial than men. "His spells were tough, and he was a lot faster than I thought he would be, but I don't think he was counting on my magic. People often overlook spells that aren't flashy, but I find regeneration is better than a fireball..."

  They fell into conversation easily, just two fighters talking trade. They stood there for half an hour, out on the training field for all to see, not caring what their respective factions would have to say about it.

  -----o

  The Blues were now wise to their tricks this challenge phase. They had to re-write and re-submit their challenge ten times. Eventually the Arena Master stepped in and re-wrote the challenge himself, imposing the final set of rules. Sadira was frustrated by the process; time spent issuing and re-writing challenges could be better spent training or enjoying life.

  The version of their challenge that the arena master settled on was fairly bland, but it was one that they were familiar with and had won before; a single-team trial survival match, which boiled down to each team surviving the onslaught of monsters and killing as many as possible with no chance of the other team interfering. Gavin was pleased by this. In trial matches the teams took to the field separately and compared scores. He wasn't sure he was calm enough to face a head to head match against other Gladiators this month.

  -----o

  The audience was much more receptive as they took to the field this time; their team was well known now: the youngest and most dynamic of the Red teams, leading their Faction to its strongest season in this arena in many years. Sadira's match against Blue Hornet the previous month and her spectacular finish against the clockwork serpents had been the most exciting matches that many of the local patrons had seen in their lives, dramatic and acrobatic. They roared in approval as Karmal tossed Sadira high into the air, the Shadow-Elf twirling as she landed on Gavin's upraised shield. They drew their weapons in unison to salute the crowd.

  "Like the view down there?" Sadira smiled down at her beloved, before stepping off his shield.

  He ro
lled his eyes. "Ask the Lion; I can't see anything good through the shield." She laughed

  The trumpets blew, signalling the entrance of their enemies. Doors all around the fighting grounds opened and clockwork soldiers waddled forth, their mechanical limbs moving with precise, inhuman perfection. These ones were silver with long, shining plumes sticking from their metal heads.

  "Bloody Reckoning," swore Ravius, "Shooters!"

  The Gladiators scrambled as the silver automatons raised their left arms, which ended in devices that looked like metal forge-bellows. Gavin and Vintia moved to cover the rest of their squad with their shields. For a moment Gavin envied Vintia with her larger shield and heavier armour.

  The brass men expelled their projectiles with a hiss, sending a spray of metal spikes flying toward their targets. Sadira ducked behind Gavin. Karmal and Ravius took shelter behind Vintia. The two defenders blocked most of the projectiles, but sheer volume of fire dictated that several would hit home. Gavin and Ravius flinched as their flesh was pierced. The brass men reloaded without pause, spikes chambering automatically as they aimed. Their weapons were simplified versions of the gas-powered spike throwers used by many units in the legions.

  Ignoring the pain of his wounds, Gavin waved off Sadira, preferring to let her attack the ranks of brass men than to spend her efforts healing him. Karmal and Vintia loosed bright lightning at the constructs, causing two of their weapons to spark and erupt explosively. Sadira's war-shriek split the air as she closed the fifteen yard gap between their lines and the gleaming constructs in three long strides. She whirled into them, cutting the plumed silver head from one of her foes, spilling its oil as her sharp blades sheered through metal and tubing. She dismembered another before dancing back and taking shelter behind Gavin’s shield as the air became thick with projectiles.