by T. C. Edge
The run of days off for the gladiators was a luxury that would always come to an end. They'd been granted two of them so far, not a one of the seven remaining within Dom's ludus required to take to the sand.
As Kira awaited Rufus down in the cells, she had a sinking feeling that they wouldn't get a third. And, as the dark skinned trainer creaked through the gate, and she looked right into his eyes, she knew that he was the bearer of less than favourable news. For some of them at least.
"OK, break's over for two of you," he called out loudly, forcing the gladiators to quickly spread from their passages and into the central dungeon.
Kira did so, and saw both Finn and Gwyn quickly appear from their own. Only Shadow was absent, though she knew he'd be listening from the shade.
Rufus' eyes swayed around the sudden assembly, and Kira felt her breath catch as they passed by her. They stopped, but only or a brief moment, before continuing on towards Gwyn. They stopped for a longer period on her, and Kira saw the trainer nod slowly.
"Gwyn, you're up tomorrow," he said solemnly.
Her eyes crafted themselves into a show of grief and panic. She darted her gaze around the dungeon in a state of hopelessness, as if searching for someone to help.
"Who else?" asked Kira suddenly, stepping immediately towards her friend and draping a supportive arm over her shoulder. She squeezed tight, and could feel Gwyn tremble.
Rufus' eyes continued their travels, moving past Oom, Malvo, and Lee. Then they stopped once more on Finn.
"Finn, you too. It's just the two of you tomorrow, and then the following day is another day off for everyone. It's always the case at the end of the first week..."
As he spoke, offering some further background on the usual set up for the games, Kira noted the look on Finn's face. Unlike Gwyn, his eyes were locked firm, the blue within them seeming to intensify. Gwyn looked at him too, and seemed to take some strength from him. And as Rufus rambled on, Kira quickly broke in with a question.
"Who are they fighting?" she asked quickly. "Not high ranked gladiators, surely?"
Rufus appeared a little annoyed by the interruption to his monologue. Still, he answered the question, directing it at the two combatants.
"You'll be fighting together," he said, causing the two to look at each other, and for Kira's hope to swell a little. "It's a team bout against several groups from other lanistas. Mostly, they aren't overly gifted. Though, Lucius' team will always be tricky to overcome."
"And who's in his team?" asked Kira again.
Rufus looked at her.
"You'd think it was you fighting tomorrow," he said irritably. "Never you mind the set-up, Kira. This isn't your bout, but Finn and Gwyn's." He looked back at the two of them. "Now, Master Domitian has told me to give you some coaching this evening, so all will be revealed. Come this way and let's discuss it."
He drew Gwyn and Finn away down one of the passages, and Kira watched them go. Gwyn's eyes were stuck right on her, the fear in them palpable. But there was something more, that very hope that their talk of escape had given them, now being so dangerously interfered with. And she knew, looking at Gwyn, that there was a question in her mind - can we escape tonight? Is it possible at all?
The answer was no, it wasn't. Merk had come down that day with only a shake of the head to give to Kira. It was only his first full day on the job, so she knew he needed time. And now, it appeared that both Gwyn and Finn's time might well be up.
Yet, while Gwyn's eyes were strained, Finn's were firm and resolute. His training over the last couple of days with Rufus had taken him to another level, and even now Kira could see that his focus was complete. She took a great deal of solace from the look on his face as he disappeared down the passage. If the two of them were to survive, he'd have to bring the full force of his powers to the party. And with Rufus' clever strategic mind, Kira felt confident that the three of them would be able to craft a victory from tomorrow's bout.
She had, of course, no way to influence it herself, barring the positive words she gave both Gwyn and Finn that night when Rufus left. He stayed with them for over an hour, during which time Kira sat on her own bench and employed her super-sensitive hearing to listen to their discussion.
She noted quickly that Rufus started out by doing almost all the talking, though Gwyn would occasionally add her voice with a frightened query or remark. As the meeting went on, however, Finn's lips began to open more regularly, issuing smart questions, delivered with a calm and focused intent.
And, the more Kira listened, the more confident she got. Finn was ready for the challenge.
Still, she spent the night worrying and trying to keep Gwyn calm. Eventually, with enough whispered words of support, she placated her enough to get her to fall asleep. Finn needed no such mollycoddling. He returned to his own passage soon after Rufus' departure, and didn't make a peep all night.
The information that Kira garnered, however, suggested that they'd be up against two mid-ranked warriors among Lucius' flock. Aside from Redmane, all of Lucius' top ten seeds had made it through the opening bouts, and now it was time for those ranked towards the lower end to take to the sand once more.
Their names were Irongrip and Hurricane, though Kira knew those weren't their names at all. More the gladiatorial nicknames given by their master to shed some light on their particular set of skills.
In this case, Kira learned from her night of eavesdropping, they were dealing with an Elemental in the form of Hurricane, capable of controlling the wind, and a man of near-unfathomable strength in the form of Irongrip, able to rip a man limb from limb with little effort at all.
Kira's experience of men like Hurricane made her wary, of course. She had been taken from Haven by men with such powers, though she took some comfort from the fact that Hurricane wasn't seeded highly among Lucius' stock, and therefore his control of the elements would likely be limited.
Irongrip, on the other hand, had great strengths, literally, but also significant weaknesses. It seemed he wasn't particularly fast, and though extremely durable, would be vulnerable to supreme speed in a similar manner to Redmane. The strategy, therefore, was to hope to wear him down, and for Finn to try to negate Hurricane's powers with his own.
Then again, there would be a number of other teams within the contest, complicating the show a great deal.
The night was long for Kira, even when she got Gwyn to sleep. Having done so, she stayed by her side, sitting on the stone floor, her knees up to her chest and in a position of prayer. And pray she did, to whatever deity might listen, that her friends made it through the next day, and that Merk came too with some positive news.
She marvelled at the change in herself now. At the thoughts of caring she was having for the young woman, breathing nervously by her side as she slept. And the even younger man, barely beyond a boy, sleeping away through the dingy dungeon as the hours moved quickly towards his fate.
It was worse, almost, than waiting to fight herself. If she could, she'd trade places with them, step onto the sand alone as her own team representing Dom. She hated the idea of having no control, of letting these two get into her head. They were a team now, working silently, secretly, down here in the shadows. And tomorrow, the team would be split up, a state of affairs that could be temporary...or permanent.
She battled with her thoughts that night, and soothed Gwyn each time she threatened to wake. And she stood, once or twice, to creep off to look upon Finn, to see his face, crafted in a calm expression. She listened to his heartbeat, and his breathing, and knew he was sleeping soundly. He required no aid from her, even if she wanted to give it.
Then, when morning came, the cells began to fill with light. It spread from the barred windows above, filtering in with vibrant shades of orange and gold. The gladiators woke, though not Kira. She'd been up all night, not a wink of sleep taken.
Gwyn's nerves grew again, the countdown now on, and Kira was on hand to take her through it. She noted the other gladiators looking at her now, wo
ndering just why she cared so much. A word from Malvo, when she ventured away from Gwyn to use the bathroom, summed up their feelings.
"You said it yourself, we're all dead down here," he grunted. "Why bother calming her?"
Kira, irritable through lack of sleep, stood right up to him.
"Because I give a shit," she said. "I'm not selfish like the rest of you..."
She glanced around at Lee and Oom, though didn't even bother looking to see if Shadow was there. He couldn't be selfish, even if he wanted to. It was a human trait...and you had to be human first.
"I'm not being selfish," returned Malvo with narrow eyes. "Like you said...I'm just being realistic."
He moved off, and Kira felt her blood pump harder through her veins. Because, really, she knew he was right. He was only saying exactly what she'd thought only days before, behaving in the same manner as she would have done. Only the thin sliver of hope, centred around an unlikely escape, had served to rearrange her thoughts and realign her priorities. Without it, she'd be just like the rest of them. Down here, being selfish was a way to survive.
But her survival now wasn't about the arena. It was about Merk, and her friends, and finding a way to escape this dungeon. And though the deaths of Gwyn and Finn in the arena today wouldn't necessary change that - and in fact, in certain ways it might make escaping easier - she didn't give the thought a single second to flourish or bloom. That would be a selfish thought, a heartless one. And that part of her didn't exist right now. She wanted to see them free as much as herself, and perhaps even more.
The morning quickly brought more movement from above. The gladiators were set to fight towards the end of the afternoon, and before then they'd get further coaching from Rufus while the others continued their training. But before Rufus came, another ventured down into the cool shade of the prison, bringing the tray of food to sustain them through their morning's work.
Kira's sleek emerald eyes caught Merk as he wandered through the gate, his own eyes quickly moving about to hunt her down. They locked, and she saw something in them. Something bright, not the cover of cloud that filled them the previous day. He looked at her, and she looked right back, and a thought went stamping through her mind.
He's got something...
"OK, here we are, nice and hot and fresh," Merk was saying, covering any furtive looks with his usual buoyant locution. "Come and get your breakfast. We've gotta keep your energy up."
Kira moved in, and Merk saw her come.
"Ah, my hero," he smiled, as he tended to do. Their personal tie, formed in the arena, helped to shield any covert signals and signs from the rest. "Big bowl for you, Kira?"
Before she answered, he was picking up a specific bowl, set a little to one side, and filling it with porridge. He handed it over, and Kira took it gratefully.
"Thanks, Merk the Mighty," she said, keeping to their tradition.
She didn't hang around. As the others snatched up their food, Kira slid away before anyone could see. She moved into the shadows, and her fingers met with the smooth surface of the paper taped beneath her bowl.
Her eyes and ears were enough to ensure the coast was clear. Quickly, and without delay, she peeled the note away and set the bowl down. She unwrapped the paper and read the words that set her heart racing.
I may have a way out. There's a secret passage beneath the villa. Almost no one knows about it, even the Empress. I will figure out how to get you there. I will do this for you, Kira. In the meantime, stay alive. And destroy this message now.
Kira read it once, and once only, before ripping the note up, adding it to her porridge, and wolfing down the contents as quickly as she could. She emerged from the passage before Merk could leave, still waiting for Oom to have his third or fourth helping, which for the giant meant he was only just getting started.
With the main dungeon clear, Kira moved straight up to Merk. No eyes were on them. No one was taking notice.
They got locked in a stare again, and her lips whispered quietly.
"How soon?"
He shook his head. He had no answer, and wasn't willing to whisper anything down there. Then a set of feet came, and Rufus came sweeping down into the dungeon.
"Come on, let's get finished up. Time to train. Time to fight," the trainer said.
Kira's opportunity was gone. She had something, something potentially huge, but was still relying on Merk. As he gathered up the bowls and began to move off, she quickly hurried down Gwyn's passage before she was taken away. Her bowl was still full, her nerves stripping away her appetite. She lifted her gaze and saw Kira's look of intent.
Kira kneeled in front of her.
"There's a way out, a secret passage," she whispered. "Merk is coming through for us."
Gwyn's eyes widened.
"You have to stay alive today, Gwyn. You and Finn...you have to win!"
The change in Gwyn was immediate. The fear that was haunting her was suddenly overcome by hope, by need. A fresh purpose infused her, sparkling from her dark eyes. Then she nodded, and grit her teeth.
And Kira knew she'd done all she could.
25
Dom's head was heavy, his mouth dry.
Around him, the chattering within the royal box was serving to intensify his hangover. He sat in his seat to the left of the throne, a seat he'd soon vacate, and stared out towards the sand in a blank, aimless fashion. It felt weird, oh so weird, to sit there now, knowing what he did. The city was changed, and so was he. The countdown to his banishment was on.
Dom hadn't, of course, mentioned his conversation with Vesper to anyone yet, save the man he sought most council from in the world. Rufus had stolen the truth from his lips the previous night following his conversation with Merk, his overindulgence in wine loosening his tongue a little.
His instructor's reaction had been calm and collected, yet Dom was quite aware that the news was set to change his life too. Banishment for Dom would mean new employment for Rufus elsewhere. If he wished to stay in Neorome, he'd have to find a new patron.
But then again, Rufus was loyal, and he wasn't going anywhere. He assured Dom that, whatever happened, he'd be right there by his side.
"Here, or anywhere, Master Domitian," he'd told him, "I will serve and protect you."
Dom, drunk as he was, had almost let tears slip from his eyes at Rufus' words. He managed to regain control of his emotions just enough to avoid embarrassing himself, though his emotional state was obvious enough.
For Dom, exile from the city would strip him of all he knew and all he was. Yet, those things weren't pleasant to him anymore. He didn't like what he knew, and he didn't like what he was. Leaving this place behind, though he loved the city dearly, mightn't be the worst thing.
But, he had to question whether that chance would ever come. Julia's pregnancy was fast advancing, and though Dom didn't get an exact timeframe, her size suggested the birth of Vesper's new heir would be a mere month or two away, perhaps arranged to occur towards the end of the games themselves. He wouldn't put it past his mother to conclude the games in such fashion, and with such news.
He wouldn't put anything past her now.
And the more he pondered it, the more he knew she wasn't his mother any longer. And that the birth of her second son would not only strip away Dom's position as heir, but turn him into a threat that needed to be eliminated. Yes, she'd spoken of banishment, and perhaps that was what she currently believed. But the reality, Dom knew, was that when the time came, and her new heir was born, she might choose to take a more terrible path when dealing with her firstborn son.
It was a horrible turn of events for the prince, sitting there now, in the royal box, forced to continue his duty while all he wanted was to drink himself into oblivion. To dull the pain, the fear of the threats now closing in.
He'd considered, in his weakened state the previous night, whether to take the tunnel through the villa. To gather up his loyal attendants and preempt his own exile, escape the city while he
knew he could. But it was a fleeting thought that came and went, and then came again. But only briefly, before being banished itself as his anger grew.
He sat there, now, at a crossroads in his life, an impossible decision ahead. But really, it wasn't impossible at all. At least, not yet. As Rufus had soberly advised him, he needed to stay calm for now, and to do as his mother said. To continue his role as a lanista, to try to quell the hearts of those in Southside using Merk as a tool for peace.
Anything else right now, Rufus assured him, would be folly. He needed to be smart, and not act or make a decision under the influence of wine. When drunk, or hungover as he was now, he could well be reckless. And a reckless move, at a time like this, could get a lot of people killed, including himself.
No. He'd smile, and bow, and do all the things expected of him. He'd wear that mask, and hide his true feelings behind it.
And wait for a solution to present itself.
"What's this, water..."
Dom's eyes were faltering as the action unfolded below. He sat, cheek planted into one of his palms, trying to battle against the heat of the day and the roar of the baying crowd. His head hurt, and his ears were splitting. And now, he had a new issue to contend with.
He arched his neck to find Lucius beside him, inspecting his goblet. It was, as he so aptly observed, filled with water and not wine. Dom could understand his confusion.
"Oh, wow, big night was it, old friend?" smirked Lucius, seeing Dom's heavy eyes. "To see you without wine at this time of day...it must have been a hefty one."
Dom glanced over at his mother, sitting in her throne. The crafting of his eyes into fierce slits clearly wasn't missed by Lucius, even if it was the Empress.
"Problems in the family, huh Dom?"
Dom continued to evade Lucius' teasing and questioning. He was rarely in the mood, and never more so than now. He needed a break from this entire gathering, and to give his ears some respite. He grabbed his water goblet and stood, stamping off and away towards the outer perimeter of the stadium.