The Red Warrior: The Warrior Race, Book Two

by T. C. Edge

  And then, suddenly, it was 10PM. And her positive mood quickly slipped the other way.

  She couldn't help it, really, when she saw Lucius step into the room. He had a lustful gaze on his face, and it was obvious he'd been spending the evening drinking. There was a curve to his eyes and mouth, both malicious, and a heaviness to his walk that made Kira immediately nervous. In fact, she couldn't help but be reminded of Dom's changing state. Lucius, too, appeared a troubled man, a darkness smouldering behind his eyes.

  The door shut behind him, leaving them alone. Kira was in position in the middle of the room, and the smile she'd built to greet each new guest was now gone. Instead, her eyes glanced at him but little more. She had trouble meeting his gaze. It made her uncomfortable.

  "Well, here we are, all alone," started Lucius, a roughness around the edges of his voice. "I said it, didn't I? I said we'd be alone, Kira..."

  He moved towards her, and his fingers came near her chin as if to raise it up. But they stayed back, and didn't touch her. Her eyes flashed up and he moved a step away.

  He smiled.

  "Would you like to have a drink?" he asked.

  She shook her head.

  "No thank you, Lucius," she said, managing to do so politely.

  He moved over to the table and poured himself a cup. Then he looked at Kira over his shoulder.

  "You're having a drink," he said, and poured another. He brought it to her, and set it into her hand. "I prefer not to drink alone. Now drink."

  She raised the cup to her lips and took the tiniest of sips, enough to leave a few drops of red on her mouth.

  "Good," said Lucius, standing awfully close to her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, see the glint in his eye. It was mercy that her powers had been suppressed.

  "So, let's take a seat, shall we?" he said. "No need to be all official here. How about you sit right there, on the bed."

  He gestured towards it, and Kira moved over to sit down. Lucius moved to one of the chairs by the table and drew it out, slumping into it and crossing his legs. His eyes took her in, all of her, sliding up her legs and forcing her to squeeze them tight.

  "You were great against Redmane, by the way," said Lucius, sipping his drink. "We stacked the odds against you, but you had all the answers. Fair's fair, Kira. You beat us that day."

  "Us?" enquired Kira. "You mean, you and Empress Vesper?"

  The name had an impact on Lucius. His eyes crinkled and lightly flinched. He nodded.

  "Yes...her," he said. "Madness...it runs in the family, you know. Your Dom isn't quite so clean as he might appear."

  Kira shrugged.

  "Doesn't matter to me," she said. "And Dom...Prince Domitian...he seems perfectly sane."

  "Seems, yes," growled Lucius. "Insanity can take many forms, though, can't it. Like...betraying a best friend, a brother, for instance. Some would call that madness, wouldn't they?"

  An earnestness and honesty took possession of his face, if only momentarily. There was clearly a great deal going on behind his eyes, his mind tortured and torn.

  "I guess you could say that," answered Kira quietly.

  Lucius' eyes moved off her for a moment, and he cast off the expression. A grimace took its place, and a snarl.

  "You know what happened with us?" he asked. "Do you know what your Dom did?"

  "He's not my Dom," said Kira.

  Lucius laughed.

  "Of course not. He's not yours...you're his. His property. It's all you are."

  Kira didn't rise to it. Her skin was thick, her composure well held. She waited for Lucius to go on.

  "Dom...he isn't the good man he wants to be. Oh, how hard he tries. But there's a sickness in him, just like his mother. You'll never see it, of course. It only comes out with people who really know him."

  "I've seen it," said Kira quickly. "Why do you think I'm here? Of course I've seen it. I was taken, Lucius," she growled. "I was stolen from my life."

  "Yes, unfortunately you were. But life isn't fair, is it? We all do things we don't want to do. Things we have to do..."

  "Right, I've heard this before. Dom had to take me, right, because it's his job? I guess you're the same too? You do it even though you hate it..."

  "Oh no, I don't hate it," purred Lucius. "It is an honour to do what I do."

  Kira shook her head.

  "But you'd rather be doing something else," she said. "You're just a man who profits from death. There's nothing special about you."

  Lucius stiffened. A ripple of anger spread across his face.

  "Oh, there will be," he said. "One day..."

  He stood and moved away, turning his back to her. She watched him as he took a long swig of wine, and took the moment herself to cool her tongue. She needed to be careful. She was baiting a lion and it wasn't sensible.

  "I can see just why Dom's been so taken by you, Kira," he said, his back still turned. "You're strong and beautiful. And...a slave-girl too. Dom has a penchant for slave-girls with red hair."

  He turned again and stood quietly for a moment, cocking his head a little to one side as he looked at her.

  "You look quite like her, actually," he whispered. "Though...she was just a normal girl. No powers like you. No strength. Not in that way, at least."

  Kira frowned as he spoke, his eyes forming into a wistful stare, full of memory.

  "Look like...who?" she whispered.

  Lucius swept away towards the table again, and refilled his cup. Kira's still sat in her hand, untouched but for the first sip.

  "Someone...who was once important to me," whispered Lucius. "Long ago."

  He turned around once more, and moved a little closer. His eyes were different again, filled with a rising pain.

  "Dom stole her from you, didn't he?" asked Kira, watching him, reading him. "That's why you hate him so much."

  Lucius rounded on her quickly.

  "Hate...I hate the world, Kira. I hate everyone."

  She frowned and recoiled. A ferocity gripped at him.

  "When you're forced to kill someone you love, how can you not hate?" Lucius went on with a growl. "When your best friend, your brother, betrays you, and steals away the girl you love, how can you feel anything else? When your father finds out that this girl was a slave, and forces you to execute her, how can you ever feel anything other than hate again..."

  His voice picked up, hurrying out of him, louder and louder before stopping abruptly. He took a breath, and Kira saw that his hands were shaking, the wine, so close to the brim of his goblet, threatening to spill over the top.

  She stayed where she was, though her heart was beating fast. For a good half minute, Lucius stayed silent, before moving back towards his chair.

  "We're all products of our pasts, Kira," came a hollow, calm voice. "And like I say, we all do things we don't want to."

  Kira's voice rose on a whisper.

  "You...were forced to execute her?" she asked. "This girl you loved?"

  The memory seemed to pass through Lucius' head. The pain surfaced, shrouded in darkness.

  He nodded.

  "Oh, my father, the great Lord Pontius, couldn't allow that to slide. For his son to have fallen for a slave-girl...no, that wouldn't do at all. There was only one way to solve it, as he saw it, to keep his perfect reputation intact." He took a breath and nodded. "She died," he said. "I...I killed her."

  Before she knew it, Kira felt her hand reaching out. She couldn't help it, couldn't stop it. Her fingers rested on Lucius' thigh, and her eyes were sympathetic. Lucius looked at her, and a wave of doubt seemed to flow through him. He withdrew and moved away.

  "You're not supposed to touch me, Kira," he said.

  Kira quickly pulled back.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

  "No...it's me who's sorry."

  "For what? What are you sorry for?"

  He turned and looked at her again, and then quickly downed the rest of his wine. His eyes were troubled, veiled in doubt.
/>   "For this," he said.

  With a sudden turn, he marched right at her, tossing his empty goblet to one side. His hands reached out, and Kira drew back, unsure of what to do, of what was happening.

  Lucius reached down and grabbed her, his eyes hidden behind heavy, drooping brows. He pulled her up to her feet by her arms, and she began to try to struggle from his grasp, her cup of wine spilling and falling from her grip.

  "Lucius...Lucius, what are you doing?!" she called.

  He didn't answer. His hands were fast and busy, moving now for her dress. He took hold of the fabric and began to grip hard, trying to tear it from her frame. He was strong and suddenly fierce, and her powers were gone. She began to struggle harder, coiling her arms up to protect herself and keep the tunic from being torn from her body.

  The sound of ripping filled the air, and Lucius was suddenly reaching with one hand to her neck, pulling her forward. The alcohol stank on his breath, yet his eyes remained concealed and locked away. She reached up with a hand and tried to stop him, but his lips came down, rushing into hers.

  "Stop...help!" she mumbled.

  No one outside could hear. Not the sound of violent kissing, or the tearing of her dress as it was partially stripped from her body. She felt terrified beyond anything she'd faced in the arena, struggling desperately to pull away from his grasp.

  Her tunic now hung in tatters from her frame, revealing pale flesh. Her instincts to fight him off were growing stronger, kicking in. She managed to wrest herself away, just enough to give her space. She balled a fist and swung, her knuckles connecting well with Lucius' face.

  She felt a crack in his nose, and he immediately stumbled backwards, creating a space between the two as they both panted and heaved.

  Lucius reached up to his nose, dripping blood. The red stained his fingers and smeared down towards his lips. He sniffed loudly and curved his eyes up to her. There was no smile, no look of lust.

  Just one of apology.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  And with that, he left the room.

  32

  Dom was mingling with guests when he heard a violent commotion. From down one of the many passages stretching away from the central hall at the bottom of his residence, the sound of heavy footsteps came stamping. He turned quickly from his guests, some of whom had visited with gladiators, others who were waiting to do so, and saw the shape of Lucius hurrying in his direction, trailed by a maid and a couple of guards.

  His eyes widened at the sight, and his pulse began to hammer. He could see the blood on his rival's face, issuing from his nose, and the slant of drunkenness in his eyes. He marched away from his guests, no time to apologise, and intercepted Lucius before he could fully enter the hall.

  His old friend tried to walk straight pass him as he went. Dom's hands gripped tight at his shoulders, forcing his eyes up.

  "What the hell happened in there, Lucius!" he said fiercely. "What did you do to her?!"

  Lucius shook his head, but didn't answer. Dom's eyes moved to the maid, hovering behind.

  "What happened?" he asked.

  "I...I don't know, sir," the girl stammered. "I think Kira punched him."

  Dom's eyes shifted straight back to Lucius, still locked in his grip with eyes on his feet.

  "Is this true, Lucius? Why would she...what did you do?!"

  Lucius shifted violently from Dom's grasp and moved back. His dark eyes lifted.

  "I did what I had to," he growled.

  Dom's eyes were seething now.

  "You touched her...you tried to..."

  "I did what I had to," repeated Lucius quietly.

  Dom's eyes moved to the guards, hovering behind him. The thoughts that ran through his mind had Lucius in chains.

  "You broke the rules!" growled Dom, knowing what must have happened. He could feel it, and see it in the flashing of Lucius' eyes. "This is your fault. Not Kira's. Yours..."

  Lucius began shaking his head slowly.

  "I didn't break the rules," he whispered.

  "What?! What did you say?!"

  He lifted his chin once more.

  "I said, I didn't break the rules. Your guidelines were superseded, Dom. What I did was...permitted."

  Dom's eyes flared. His chest stopped moving, his breath locked away. His mind drew up an image of a woman on a throne, toying with the world at her feet.

  "Mother," he growled. "My mother put you up to this."

  Lucius shifted further back, wiping his nose of blood.

  "I need to get this checked," he grunted. "Step out of my way."

  He moved powerfully forward, brushing Dom aside as the Prince stood with a newfound hatred, deep and pure, spreading through every inch of him. He let Lucius go, and then began pacing, hurrying forward down the corridor, moving through the door that hung ajar.

  He rushed in and found Kira sitting on the bed, her tunic torn up and wrapped around her. He immediately hurried to one side, opened a drawer, and pulled out a blanket, draping it gently over her shoulders.

  Her eyes lifted to his.

  "It wasn't my fault," she said weakly. "He tried to..."

  "Shhhhh," said Dom, pulling her towards him. He held her tight, and stroked her hair. "I know it wasn't you, Kira. I know it wasn't you."

  He held her like that for a moment, before she raised her eyes up to his, a beautiful green. He felt weakened looking at her. He felt empty.

  "What will happen to me now?" she asked innocently.

  She was smart, and she knew. This wouldn't be allowed to stand. The Empress had set her up.

  Dom shook his head.

  "I'm not sure," he whispered.

  He hugged her again, and kept the truth to himself. Because he knew that this was the excuse his mother needed. To see Kira pay for her defiance. To attack a man like Lucius would strip her of her rights, and though it was only self-defence, no one would be able to question it.

  She'd step onto the sand again, Dom was sure of that. But when she did, it wouldn't be as part of the tournament anymore. It would be for her execution.

  He hugged her, and he didn't tell her. Not at that time, not in that moment. And sitting there, a hurrying of feet sounded outside, and the door suddenly knocked.

  "Master Domitian, are you in there?"

  Dom cleared his throat, and slid his arm off Kira's shoulder. He straightened himself up, and made sure she was fully covered.

  "Yes, Rufus, come in," he said.

  Rufus stepped inside, and took in the scene.

  "I just saw Lucius leaving the villa. What the hell happened here?!"

  Kira's eyes were low and stuck to her feet. Her breath was still slightly heightened, her mind occupied.

  Dom stepped towards Rufus and lowered his voice. Outside, the murmuring of the many guests away in the hall could be heard.

  "It was a set up," whispered Dom. "My mother gave Lucius free reign to touch her...and more. She obviously didn't know, and defended herself." He looked over at Kira, huddled up on the bed. "This is bad, Rufus."

  "Execution," said the instructor, keeping his whisper low. "It's the only punishment for this. The poor girl might not even get a chance to fight..."

  Dom began rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. He drew Rufus further away, just out into the corridor. He looked both ways to make sure no one was around.

  "Maybe I give her that chance," he said. "Maybe...maybe I set her free."

  Rufus' eyes sharpened immediately.

  "No, you can't do that, sir. Your mother won't stand for it. Do you want it to be your neck in the noose instead of hers?"

  "It might be anyway," hissed Dom. "I don't have much to lose anymore."

  "You do," countered Rufus. "A lot of people rely on you. If you make a wrong step, you think the Empress will let it slide? She may punish you by punishing others, sir. You're her son...you have that at least. But even if she won't harm you, she'll hurt you in other ways. She'll strip away everything you care about. She'll kill us al
l."

  "Then what can I do, Rufus?!" rushed Dom's voice. "Tell me...because I can't work this out."

  Rufus went silent for a moment. Then his eyes moved over to the door, behind which Kira sat.

  "I don't think there's anything you can do, sir. You're going to have to let this play out." He let out a breath. "She's a gladiator, just like hundreds of others who have come here...and died. It's her fate, Dom. But it isn't yours. You're too important. You have a role to play here in this city, and after seeing what I did today out there in Southside, I think the people need you more than you know. You can't jeopardise that. You have to step up, sir. You have to become who you were born to be."

  "What...what are you saying, Rufus?" questioned Dom.

  "I'm saying, sir, that one way or another, your mother needs to go. I know you're her son, but things can't go on like this. And...I know you've thought about this too."

  The darkness began to envelop Dom once more. He looked at Rufus and saw an ally to the end, his closest friend, his greatest advisor. For years he'd been by his side, offering good council, so rarely leading Dom astray. And now, he was looking at the Prince and knowing his mind.

  Because yes, Dom had thought about it. And he'd done so with increasing conviction.

  And now, the thought became more than just a thought, but an idea he couldn't discard or avoid. It was taking hold and taking shape.

  His mother, the Empress, needed to die.

  Kira sat on the bed, wrapped in her blanket, the sound of whispers audible just outside the room, and a general murmuring further beyond it.

  She knew full well that news of what had happened was quickly spreading, the many important guests gathered here tonight taking up the debate. It would spread further in the hours to come, right through the city. And soon enough, everyone would know that The Red Warrior had struck Master Lucius, an action that would be her end.

  A cloud of despair had begun to cover her, brought on by the assault to her body. It was the sort of fight she'd never had, her powers stripped from her, her body so unusually defenceless. She felt a growing grief building inside her, her emotions strained and on edge. She took a few sharp breaths and saw that her hands were shaking, and suddenly longed for Dom's arm on her shoulder again, for the comfort of his whispering voice.