Taken: The Life of Uktesh Book 3

by Hicks, Aaron

  Groggily he punched out at her only to miss again. She Stepped behind him and used the imperfect Spinning Elbow attack to the back of his head. He crumpled face first to the stage, but he had enough consciousness to break his fall and kick out at Laurilli, who Stepped back out of his reach. She Stepped forwards again and into the imperfect Instep and kicked his head through the stage floor.

  She turned to the crowd and shouted, “Anyone else!” Say “yes” I dare any of you! Almost as one they took a step back, even though the members of her group were cheering her loudly. “I will not be pitied! Underestimate me at your own peril!” She jumped off the stage and those closest to her unconsciously took a step back from her, while her friend crowded in and congratulated her. No one noticed Thulmann’s smile.

  It was into that quiet that Thulmann spoke, “I have to admit that right as Three was about her fighting prowess, he probably hadn’t added himself to the list of the beaten.” He shook his head slightly, a small grin on his face. “But at least this way I have found my first group leader, you are well on your way to earning a new name.”

  A First Blood in the Life of

  Three months and three weeks apart from Laurilli

  Uktesh had been training for two months with Ceftin, the Naga grand master of the forms. I really should thank the Storm lord for breaking my arms as it significantly delayed my debut. Today was his first match as a gladiator. He had learned a lot. He could now ramp up all of the balanced, skills to imperfect, and all those skills to perfect. He was able to use the true form for more than just one attack. Based on the attacks he favored, he found that unarmed and sword attacks were the easiest to use in true form. He also found that if he Stepped or Walked first he could eliminate the need to go through the balanced, imperfect, and perfect forms. Uktesh assumed that the reason why the Imperials called the Shadow Step the Split Step is because it split the forms and the need to go through the lesser forms.

  Talia grunted as she tightened the balteus around his waist. It was a decorative leather belt, that was thick and tall. He had agreed to wear it because it would provide some protection to his stomach. “Husband, I think you need to lose some weight, or maybe have fewer muscles around your stomach.” Talia had taken to calling him husband, and Uktesh had recently accidently started to call her wife.

  Once they had gotten him to agree to use the Balteus it was only a matter of explaining what it protected to get him to agree to a manica--a leather forearm protection--on each arm. He also wore an ocrea on each shin. They were both leather and had a decorative dragon in metal along the back for extra protection. Uktesh had insisted on fasciae wrapping that would help him avoid blisters and chaffing.

  Once Talia had finished he stood and she handed him a large metal helmet. He took it and placed it on the ground next to his feet. He’d declined the bulky and vision-obscuring protection when Ceftin had suggested it. Uktesh wasn’t sure if the naga or the slave thought her feminine wiles would confuse him into forgetting that, but if that had been their plan it had failed. He lifted his arms, feeling quite silly, and asked, “How do I look?”

  Talia grabbed her chin with her thumb and index finger as her eyes quickly travelled from buckle, to tie, to belt and finally stepped back to view him as a whole. She smiled and said, “You look like the champion of the Storm ludus. You might look better with a helmet though.”

  Uktesh shook his head and said, “I can’t see out of it, and I use my speed more than I stand and trade blows.” She frowned at his statement, so he said, “I tell you what, you find a leather, open-faced helmet, with a cool design and I’ll wear that, just not today.”

  She sighed and led him to where Ceftin was waiting. The naga pulled and checked each place he knew from experience could break, and once satisfied, nodded.

  “Today you can be a prick,

  kill your opponent with a trick.”

  Uktesh felt his eyebrows raise and he said, “I thought those were only for desperate times?”

  Ceftin said,

  “What you don’t know is your opponent this day,

  nine and one points did he slay.”

  Uktesh said, “Oh, so he’s close to his hundredth kill and freedom. I guess that means he’s tough, which must mean this is a desperate situation and I hadn’t realized it. Thank you.”

  Ceftin said,

  “As you rissse or fall,

  ssso too doesss the reputation of all.”

  Uktesh was led with the rest of the gladiators fighting today toward the coliseum by dozens of guards. Ceftin stayed back at the ludis to continue supervising the training. Uktesh began to get nervous but Talia, who was ordered to come with, “for entertainment,” slipped her hand in his and squeezed. He was glad for her support, but didn’t really need it. The trick he was going to use would be either spectacular or devastating. They arrived in their holding area in front of a massive gate to the coliseum floor, and Uktesh saw that the fights had already begun.

  As he watched, three spear-wielding gladiators faced off against two sword and shield gladiators. He felt Talia pulled from his grip by one of his fellow gladiators, and said, “What are you doing?”

  The gladiator said, “She’s here for all of us. She’s our gift for our sacrifice of blood.”

  Talia gave Uktesh a small smile and said, “I’m okay Uktesh.”

  Uktesh said, “I’m not finished with her.”

  One of the gladiators said, “Destus, let him have her if he’s not done; you know the rules.”

  Destus scoffed, “You’re not even using her!”

  Uktesh took two deliberate steps forward and said, “I’m not finished with her.”

  Destus pushed her toward Uktesh and said, “You’ll have to fight sooner or later, and know that if I survive my fight that wench will be mine.”

  Uktesh smiled, took Talia’s hand, and pulled her toward one of the benches. Uktesh lay on the bench on his stomach and said, “I’ll need you to loosen my muscles with your thumbs.”

  Talia knelt to his side and began to dig her thumbs into his shoulders. Uktesh arched his back in pain and said, “Not so hard. Just press your thumb down and rotate it like you’re drawing a circle.” She quickly got the hang of it and Uktesh was glad for the fact that his costume was shirtless but with a belt, as she was able to work her way down to his balteus, but go no further down. Soon it was Destus’s turn and when he returned victorious he grinned at Uktesh.

  Gradually the gladiators in the room went one by one to the sand, and most returned alive. One man had won, but would probably never walk again without a limp. Destus stood and walked over to Uktesh. He squatted in front of Uktesh and said, “You’re next lover boy, and while you’re gone, I’m going to make her scream out my name.”

  Uktesh sat up and said, “Thank you wife, I mean Talia.” Damn it! He stood up and Destus quickly backed a few steps away. Uktesh rolled his shoulders and said, “I’ll make you a wager. Don’t touch her while I’m fighting, keep others from touching her, and if I can’t beat my guy in less than a minute, once the fight starts, you can have her all night. If I win in less than a minute, you can’t have her, ever.”

  Destus said, “What if you lose?”

  Uktesh said, “If I lose, I won’t care what you do.”

  Destus said, “Deal. You all heard, she’s mine tonight when he dies.”

  Uktesh nodded and walked to the gate where he saw the fighter of the Storm ludis get stabbed in the face, and his opponent raised his hands in victory. The body was dragged away and the three men in masks stood before the Storm lord and said in unison, “The fates decree the last fight of this day to be champion against champion!” The crowd cheered and the three said, “Newest champion of the Storm we present: Uktesh!”

  The gate opened and the two guards handed him his swords. He walked onto the sand to the sound of jeers. Clearly I’m not the favorite here. The three continued in unison, “Against him we give you the slayer of Yestus, the victor of the avian melee, and
the shadow of doom: Tulxa!” The crowd let out a cheer that seemed to shake the sand at Uktesh’s feet. Tulxa was huge! He stood seven feet tall, if not more, and had thick slabs of muscles. Uktesh turned back to his gate as if questioning how he could beat such a monster. He saw that Destus was standing behind the gate and Talia was behind him, her hands roamed his body. Damn it! I said he couldn’t touch her, not that he couldn’t make her touch him!

  Uktesh turned to the Storm lord, raised his sword, and shouted, “We salute you!” He quickly backed away from Tulxa, who belatedly shouted that he too saluted the Storm lord. Tulxa crouched low. It’s now or never! Uktesh threw his right-hand sword and quickly threw his left-hand sword at the leg of the other gladiator. He knew his first sword would miss, but didn’t need to know if his second hit. He Walked behind Tulxa, grabbed his sword--the one Tulxa had just dodged--and spun in a true form of Farmer Scythes the Wheat, and as quickly as it had begun Tulxa was down.

  Uktesh turned, saluted the Storm lord, and held his salute. He stood there as the body was dragged away and as one of the men came back for Tulxa’s head. The crowd remained silent, unsure what would happen to conclude this unusual match. The Storm lord stood and began to clap his hands together. With the signal given, the crowd cheered as he walked back to where the Storm ludis’s gladiators waited for him. Uktesh said, “That was less than a minute. Talia come to me.” He held out his hand and she moved quickly to take it.

  Destus asked the question that was clearly on everyone’s mind. “How did you do that?”

  Uktesh said, “I listen when Ceftin speaks.” The gladiators nodded like he was telling them the secrets of the afterlife. He stretched and said, “Well one down, ninety-nine to go.”

  One of the gladiators said, “You were worth one point, he was worth ten to you.”

  Uktesh said, “Really? Why?”

  The same gladiator said, “Everyone starts at being worth one kill, but every ten kills you achieve, you’re worth more, ‘kills,’ as it’s assumed you’re harder to kill. He’d earned ninety plus, ‘kills,’ so since this was your first fight you earned what he was worth, which was ten, so now you have ten, ‘kills.’ From now on, though, your, ‘kill,’ rank will be deducted from theirs. So if you fight another ten, ‘kill,’ fighter, you’ll only gain eight, ‘kills.’ Does that make sense?”

  Uktesh asked, “So I’m now worth two, ‘kills,’ because my own, ‘kill,’ count is ten or above.” The gladiator nodded, and Uktesh continued, “So then if I’m worth two, ‘kills,’ and I fight someone worth one, ‘kill,’ if I win will I gain one, ‘kill,’ not gain anything, or lose a, ‘kill?’”

  The man said, “A kill is always a kill, you can’t not get one, ‘kill,’ for a victory. However, if you lose and survive you lose ten, ‘kills.’”

  Uktesh thought it was convoluted, but realized that with the battle system, he wouldn’t have to kill one hundred people to win his freedom. He was already a tenth of the way there.

  Where’s my back up

  Four months apart from Uktesh

  Laurilli inched forward and saw that they were all dead! She had known that they would be cut down from the ambush point. She had tried to let her men know, but it happened so quickly that she had only had time to shout a warning before there were enemies in their midst. Enan had been one of the first to die and his son, never far from him, was soon to follow. Laurilli watched as Repus, Pamfilo, and even Basam quickly followed them into death. She knew that there was nothing she could do. To fight would be to die. The mission was simple: Don’t let them take the hill. Before the enemy troops got there, she hid in the bushes. When it was safe and no one was watching, she threw daggers out, dropping the enemy in one hit at a time.

  She knew that the only reason that she had not yet been overwhelmed was because her surviving men were handling themselves well and ending the lives of more men than they were losing. The twins, in particular, were proving to be far more dangerous with their duel daggers than the boys they courted understood. After such a successful ambush Laurilli knew they were in trouble. Laurilli saw a group of four invaders move up the west side of the hill closest to her. Another group of seven struggled to climb up the steep south western side. By far the most worrisome was a group of thirteen or so coming up the northwestern side. With them was their battle leader.

  Laurilli knew that her only hope was surprise, so she eased into a better throwing position. She knew that she had to act now before any of the groups met up. She aimed at the group of seven still struggling up the side of the hill, and quickly threw three daggers, and three were down before the others pointed to her position. Five and six were down by the time the group of four noticed where she was and started to run toward her and call for their war leader to pay attention. Seven was down, and eight was soon to follow as Laurilli turned toward the group of four. “It’s Laurilli!” Fear and joy wagged war in her would-be attacker’s voice. The war leader realized they’d win, thanks to the ambush, but that most of his troops would not make it. Eight, nine, and ten, were down. She finished the eleventh off with a thrown dagger. She turned to the group of thirteen--much too close to do more than throw three quick daggers that killed numbers twelve, and thirteen. She threw her third dagger at their leader, who simply grabbed the man who ran next to him and used him as a human shield. “Stop her from throwing those damned knives,” he shouted. Two more hastily thrown daggers made it fourteen down, and another wounded with a leg injury.

  She threw a dagger that was dodged and readied her sword. Ten against one, with only one showing any injuries--not good, she thought to herself. Any suggestions?

  Don’t die?

  Not helpful! She jumped backwards and avoided a quickly thrown dagger. They have them too Laurilli! Concentrate on the fight! Where are their archers? She parried, blocked, and dodged while she stayed firmly in balance form. She kept a watchful eye toward the forest and she slipped a sword past her and instantly struck with imperfect form, following up with a balanced block, still staying in balanced. Nine to go. She was tiring though, and they knew that all they had to do was keep fighting her, and trying to surround her. She saw someone on her left whip in with a nearly flawless imperfect Crane in the Weeds thrust. Laurilli was off balance and doubted she would succeed, but tried anyway, and flowed forward in an imperfect form of Crane in the Weeds. She stabbed at the thrust--not at the person, but the sword--and followed the crash through with an imperfect rolling tackle--Subtle Twist--that got her out of the nearly closed circle of enemies. She killed her opponent, and found that she was dangerously close to a tree. Eight to go. She dodged around it just as a wounded Enan came around it.

  “Lovely Laurilli, ah shuld’a knon you wuddn’ be kilt tha’ easily.” Laurilli could tell that Enan had been stabbed at least twice, once in his sword arm and once on his thigh as his arm hung loosely at his side, and he had to drag his leg behind him.

  Laurilli asked, “Where’s your son?”

  “Ack, but he didna make it, an ahm goona teach these pups why you don’ kill a man li’ me’s son.” With a roar he limped forward and Laurilli did a one-eighty turn, to join her friend even though their position was downhill and it was eight against two. Well if the odds keep flowing in this direction... Enan killed two before he was taken down. While Laurilli took out their leader, and she took a stab to her leg. Five against one. I’m wounded, but so are two of them. She grabbed a throwing dagger as the remaining five rushed in at her and made as if to throw it at one of the uninjured enemies. He flinched and Laurilli stabbed him in the heart. Unable to put any weight on her leg, she turned, overbalanced and threw the dagger into the stomach of the other uninjured opponent. As she fell, and the three remaining invaders came forward, she rolled to her feet. She hopped on one leg until she could get her balance, and traded being stabbed in her crippled shoulder to kill one of the invaders. Two left! She spun into and threw a dagger into one of the last two invaders. “Sorry sweetheart, but you’re out of daggers.
”

  She nodded and said, “But he isn’t, and nodded behind the invader.” The man spun only to find she’d played him. By the time he turned back to her, her thrown sword hit him in the middle of his chest.

  The invader fell to the ground and said, “You threw your last defense. You are insane.”

  With a sigh she walked over to the invader and retrieved her sword. She limped up to the top of the hill where the ambush had begun. Why do they keep doing this! We should’ve at least had time to set up! She limped up to the top and saw her men dead, most in the first few seconds, and shouted “We won’t be beaten!” Her men hearing her yell leapt up and cheered. The “dead” from both sides got up and congratulated either other. One side was congratulated for winning and the other side was congratulated for setting up a great ambush.

  “Well Laurilli, I see that we can’t even beat you when we cheat.” Laurilli turned to the now familiarly mocking voice of Three. “You were injured, that’s a first.”

  “They got me with that first one, and it’s almost impossible to kill five people while injured in the leg, without gaining more injures.”

  “Be that as is may, you’ve also never had to fight twenty-four people on your own before. That was some very impressive fighting.”

  Laurilli said, “Well, Enan was there and he helped out with two of them when I needed the help the most.”

  Three nodded and said, “That’s true, but you and I both know that your rushing in to save him is what injured your leg.” Laurilli smiled and shrugged.