by Ryan Hughes
The soldiers were well trained; not all of them rushed to the fire. The ones in the guard towers stayed put- even the ones atop the burning mansion-and the ones on patrol took up positions near the front and rear gates and along the perimeter wall. Jedra and Kayan used Kayan's medical powers to incapacitate the ones on the side of the compound near Kitarak's quarters, giving them stomach cramps and blinding headaches and dizziness until nobody could move.
Time for step three, Jedra said, moving toward the gladiators' quarters. They peered inside again, cautiously; the psionicists had sent feelers out far into the night to warn them of attack. Kitarak and the other slave were lying flat on their cots, evidently knocked out cold to prevent them from attempting to escape.
Kitarak won't be able to help us! Kayan cried in alarm, but it was too late to back down. After the trouble they'd caused, the estate would never again be left so unguarded against psionic attack. They would just have to break Kitarak free by themselves.
There was no point in waiting. With a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening, they gathered their psionic power and shoved against the wall of the gladiators' quarters. The building shuddered under the blow, and slate fell from the roof, but it didn't go over. They hit it again, shattering the entire front wall, but still it didn't go over. Only when they smashed one of the side walls as well did the roof finally begin to crumble and fall in.
The psionicists inside thrust it away from them and their unconscious charges, letting the building crack open and fall away on all sides, but that took their combined power to accomplish and while they were doing that Jedra and Kayan struck directly at them. They attacked their convergent link first, trying to break the four psionicists apart so they couldn't draw on each other's power. They hadn't learned a direct method from Kitarak for that, so they tried their old visual methods, imagining the link as four ropes tied in a knot and themselves as a spinning kyorkcha slicing through the knot. They passed through like a knife through a waterskin, but their passage didn't accomplish quite what they expected. They broke the link all right, but the four psionicists each struck back at them individually. Jedra and Kayan felt four separate minds thrust at them, pressing for dominance and battering at their own link.
They could feel themselves slipping apart. Hold on! Jedra said, striking out telekinetically at their opponents. He tugged down more roof tiles and flung them at the psionicists, striking the old elf on the head and knocking him out. He felt Kayan using her medical skills to stop one of the young women's heart long enough to put her out of the battle, but by then the other two had linked up again and pressed the attack.
Jedra and Kayan's link grew weaker under blow after blow from the other psionicists. Jedra tried burning them, he tried blinding them with flashes of enhanced light, he even tried levitating them high into the air and dropping them, but they countered everything he threw at them. He felt the energy drain as Kayan tried her own specialties on them, but she was no more successful than he.
Then reinforcements arrived. Suddenly instead of two linked minds, there were three, then four again. Jedra thought maybe the two they had knocked unconscious had revived, but then there were five, then six. Their enormously enhanced power beat Jedra and Kayan back, then began to close around them. They didn't attack so much as suppress Jedra and Kayan's abilities, smothering their mindlink the way Kitarak had when he had stopped them from fighting each other back in his house. Where are they all coming from? Jedra asked as he fought to keep from being overwhelmed, but he realized the answer as soon as he asked the question. There had to be more of them resting at any given moment in order to keep a continuous guard over Kitarak. As demanding as convergence was, there had to be at least a dozen psionicists in the noble's pay.
No, they'll catch us! Jedra said, but Kayan was already trying to link with the unconscious tohr-kreen. She managed it, too, and they felt a surge of power as Kitarak woke, but the six combined psionicists bore down on them without mercy.
Run! Jedra pleaded, sensing their dark presence in his mind like a giant's hand on his skull.
His panicked mental command had the force of their combined power behind it; Kitarak's alien presence winked out again like a blown-out candle flame, and Kayan receded to the limit of perception. Jedra just had time to note that Kitarak's body had disappeared along with his mind before he felt the psionicists press through his mental barrier.
In desperation, he cut the mindlink and found himself back in the alley with Kayan. Her body stood stiffly beside him; she had obviously been captured. He didn't even try to go back after her, he merely wrapped his arms around her body and levitated them both into the air, then pushed off down the alley toward the city center. If he could get some distance between her and the psionicists, he might be able to break her free, and then they could blank their minds and hide in the warrens until they could make their escape.
He didn't even make it to the end of the alley before the psionicists struck again. Their tactics were the same as before; his levitation ability cut off in midair, and he and Kayan fell to the ground like a couple sacks of vegetables. Jedra felt a bone in his right leg snap, and pain shot through his whole body, but he struggled to his feet again and tugged at Kayan. There was no place to hide, but he had no other options.
He dragged her a couple of yards, pain lancing through his leg with each step, before he fell to his knees. He kept tugging on Kayan, but a moment later the alley gate banged open and torch-bearing soldiers poured through. They spotted the two fugitives instantly and ran up with swords drawn and ready.
The one in the lead-a heavy woman with soot all over her face and body, placed the point of her sword on Jedra's chest. He felt it dig through his tunic, felt it penetrate the skin beneath, felt it quiver there as her hand shook with fatigue and adrenalin.
"Go ahead," she said, clearly eager for the opportunity to run him through. "Try something."
Jedra looked up along the length of burnished iron, its angled planes reflecting the torchlight, to her face. There was no hint of pity there. To her, he was nothing more than a vandal and a thief in the night.
"Sorry," he said to Kayan. Slowly, with exaggerated caution, he lowered Kayan's limp body to the ground. "I'm sorry," he told her, even though he knew she couldn't hear him.
Chapter Ten
The fire had been put out by the time the soldiers dragged Jedra and Kayan back into the compound. The woman who had captured them had made Jedra walk until he collapsed from the pain shooting through his leg, then she had slung his arms over her shoulders and carried him the rest of the way, his toes dragging in the dirt behind her. She dumped him on the ground in front of the demolished gladiators' quarters and directed the soldiers who had been carrying Kayan to drop her there, too.
Two of the psionicists were still there, one of the women and one of the older men, and Jedra immediately felt their minds invading his own. He tried to fight them off, but without Kayan he was no match for them. They crushed his shield without pausing and swept through his unguarded psyche like an invading army. Jedra saw and felt images from his life flashing past as they triggered his memories, searching for his identity and his purpose in attacking them. Finally, when they were satisfied that they'd learned enough, they retreated, putting him to sleep on their way out much the way someone might blow out a candle upon leaving a room.
He woke again to a kick in the ribs. Rough hands hauled him erect before he could react, and he stood blinking in the sudden daylight, balancing on his one good leg while he tried to ignore the pain lancing through his right. It was a little better than he'd remembered it; evidently someone had done some healing work on it during the night, but they hadn't finished the job. When his eyes focused, he saw a well-dressed nobleman of about fifty years standing before him, his gray hair still wet from his morning bath. He was flanked by two soldiers and a psionicist on either side of him. The psionicists were different ones from the four Jedra had fought last night; these were both middle-ag
ed women. They hadn't made any hostile moves yet, but Jedra could feel their presence hovering near him, ready in case he tried anything. His danger sense also warned him of a threat from behind, but the soldier holding him had one hand around his neck so he couldn't turn his head to see who or what it was.
The noble spoke in a nasal, but still haughty, voice. "I suppose congratulations are in order. Kitarak did manage to escape in all the confusion. Fortunately, you didn't make it away yourselves, so we'll consider it a fair trade." He didn't wait for a response, but went right on to say, "My first impulse when we caught you was to have you beheaded a quarter inch at a time, but I've decided against that. You do seem somewhat resourceful, and I hate to waste anything valuable. I certainly hope you make good gladiators, though, because you just robbed me of a champion, and you're going to replace him whether you can fight or not."
"Gladiators?" Jedra croaked, his mouth dry.
"Yes, gladiators. Your training will begin immediately, and this will be your master." The noble nodded to someone behind Jedra, and the soldiers holding him and Kayan loosened their grip so they could turn around to see who it was.
Jedra recognized the swarthy, musclebound elf the moment he saw him. "Sahalik!" he exclaimed, his voice rising to a squeak.
Kayan's eyes were wide with shock or terror or both.
"Oh, you already know each other?" the noble asked. "Wonderful. That will make things move along even faster, I'm sure. Sahalik, I leave them in your hands." He turned away and walked toward the soot-blackened mansion, his soldiers following him.
The psionicists stayed behind, as did the two soldiers holding Kayan and Jedra. And of course, Sahalik. The big elf grinned his gap-toothed grin and clapped his meaty hands on his new gladiators' shoulders. "We might as well get started," he said gleefully. "If you're going to replace Kitarak, you've got a battle to fight in six days."
* * *
The first "practice" session was every bit as brutal as Jedra had expected it to be. There was no pretense of instruction; while the psionicists kept him from using any of his mental powers against his trainer, Sahalik merely beat Jedra senseless, pummeling the young half-elf with his fists until he could no longer stand, then kicking him in the ribs, back, head, and groin until Jedra had curled into a tight ball of pain. The elf warrior was an expert; he didn't break any bones, but he left no muscle unbruised. Even so, as soldiers dragged Jedra from the practice field, he found strength enough to say with his bloody tongue and lips, "If you touch Kayan, I'll rip your heart out with my bare hands."
Sahalik laughed. "She is mine to do with as I please, half-breed. But I'm not interested in your woman. I've got better ways to spend my time now." He waved an arm toward the two other gladiators who had been locked up with Kitarak, who were now helping rebuild their quarters, and Jedra saw the elf woman stop work and wave back at him. She was tall, with light skin, long blond hair, and slender arms and legs. She was no doubt the model of beauty among elves, but Jedra thought she looked like a sun-bleached stick.
Sahalik called out to her, "Shani, come here." While she laid down her tools and trotted over to the practice field, Sahalik said to Jedra, "You need not worry about me. Shani will train Kayan."
Sure enough, as the soldiers dragged Jedra off the field and the psionicists began to heal his wounds for the next session, he watched the elf woman batter Kayan the same way Sahalik had beaten him. Kayan got in a few good licks of her own, bloodying Shani's nose with one lucky punch, but Shani soon got the better of her. It wasn't long before the soldiers dragged Kayan over to the edge of the field and laid her on her back beside Jedra.
He was just on the edge of blacking out from the pain. The noble's psionicists were experts at healing the damage to his body without dulling his senses first, so he felt the agony of every injury again as they repaired it, but they were also expert at keeping him from escaping into unconsciousness. He wondered if they would allow him to mindspeak with Kayan. Maybe if he tried they would knock him out.
Are you all right? he sent.
Fine, she sent back, the sarcasm dripping from the single word. But I'd be a lot better if you hadn't bungled our escape.
Me? he said, nearly forgetting his pain in his surprise. I didn't bungle our escape. You wouldn't let me try until it was too late. Oh, so it's my fault we were captured?
The psionicists chose that moment to clamp down on their exchange. Jedra felt their shield fill his mind like water filling a glass, forcing out any other contact. "Let me speak," he said aloud.
One of the psionicists, the older of the two women, said, "You can talk all you want to out loud, but you'll limit your use of psionics to the battlefield. We won't have you plotting an escape right under our noses."
So, they hadn't heard his and Kayan's exchange; they had only sensed that they were mindspeaking. Kitarak's training had evidently paid off in that respect, at least; they weren't broadcasting for all to hear anymore. That was something to remember for later, if they ever did find a chance to plan an escape.
Kayan mumbled between puffed, bleeding lips, "You mean I could have used psionics against that elf bitch?"
The woman laughed. "No, we wouldn't have let you do that, not in practice. But use everything you've got when you fight in the arena. There's only one prize for second place in the games."
She looked like a kindly mother giving her daughter a good piece of advice, and her cheery tone of voice added to the illusion, but she was talking about death. And Jedra and Kayan were both still in pain-pain the psionicists could have masked with a thought.
"How can you do this to people?" he gasped. "You've been in our minds. You know what it feels like."
"Yes, we do," the younger psionicist said. "And now so do you. You know how much pain you can take and still function. That's the most important lesson any gladiator can learn. It will keep you from giving up when you could still fight on."
"Great," Jedra said. "Now I know, so could you please make it go away?"
The younger one shook her head. "No. You need to know how long you can stand it."
* * *
That, it turned out, would be for the rest of his life, or so it seemed. For the next three days Jedra was in constant pain, from his partially healed leg to the bruises that Sahalik kept fresh during each practice session.
There were three sessions per day, some with weapons and some with bare hands, and during each one the burly elf did everything he could to humiliate Jedra as well as beat him senseless. When they fought with blunted wooden swords Sahalik slid around behind him and spanked him with the flat of his blade, and when they fought with spears Sahalik tripped him up and poked at him like a curious boy pokes with a stick at a dead animal.
"You're pathetic," the elf told him during one practice when they were using clubs. "You couldn't fight a one-legged blind man with one arm tied behind his back."
"I don't want to fight a one-legged blind man," Jedra gasped, his breath having momentarily fled from an attack to the solar plexus. "I don't want to fight anybody!"
"No, I don't suppose you do," Sahalik said, swinging his club almost casually at Jedra's head. Jedra ducked, but not soon enough to keep Sahalik's blow from grazing his scalp and leaving another bruise. "You are a coward. That's too bad, because you're going to have to fight anyway, and it's always easier when you enjoy it."
A few yards away, Kayan shouted in pain as the elf woman, Shani, hit her just as badly.
"Enjoy it?" Jedra demanded angrily. "How can anybody enjoy causing someone else pain?" Sweat ran into his eyes, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"Oh, that's easy. The same way you enjoyed making a fool out of me in front of my tribe," Sahalik said. He swung his club at Jedra again, and though Jedra blocked the blow-no, parried it, he reminded himself-the vibration in the wood made his hand go suddenly numb.
"I didn't enjoy making a fool of you," Jedra said. "I was trying to keep you from killing me, that's all."
"By humiliating me instead," Sahalik said, knocking Jedra's club from his hand. "You and your woman. You must have gotten quite a laugh when I fled from my own tent."
Jedra remembered the tension of that night, and the tribe's fear and anger when Sahalik didn't return the next morning. Nobody had laughed. And if Sahalik didn't know that...
"You didn't go back," Jedra said incredulously, not even reaching for his club. "You were afraid they'd laugh at you, so you just left the whole tribe to fend for themselves."
Sahalik didn't answer him. He swung his club at Jedra's legs, but Jedra saw it coming and jumped back.
"You idiot!" he shouted. "They needed you. You were going to be their next chief! And you abandoned them because you were afraid they'd laugh at you? Do you know what happened after you left?"
"They were attacked by a cloud ray." Jedra didn't mention who had called it down on them. He danced around admitting that just as he'd danced away from Sahalik's club. "Kayan and I fought it off," he said, "but one of your warriors was nearly killed and practically everything the tribe owned was destroyed. When we left them, they looked worse than that caravan you sacked." "You lie," Sahalik said, swinging for Jedra's head again, but this time Jedra ducked fast enough. He picked up his own club while he was down and brought it up between Sahalik's legs. The elf howled and jumped back, and Jedra swung again, hitting him a solid blow in his left side.
Jedra didn't know what had happened to him, only that the elf had made him angrier than he'd been in months. Physical pain hadn't driven him to fight back, but Sahalik's hypocrisy and arrogance had finally done the trick. He flailed away on his tormentor with his club, beating him on his legs and chest and even his back as the elf twisted away from his blows, and all the while he shouted, "You call me a coward? You're the coward. You're afraid of laughter." He brought his club down against the elf's left leg with his last shout, and he heard the sharp crack of the leg bone breaking.