Bloodlust: A Gladiator's Tale (Domains of the Chosen Book One)

by C. P. D. Harris

  Sadira was frustrated, kept back by the giant's long reach and brutal swings. Finally she flung herself prone in order to duck under the massive club which scraped across the Arena wall behind her, showering her with dislodged moss and dust from the crushed stone. The giant's foot came down too quickly for her to get to her feet, and so she rolled aside. Closing in, Gavin stabbed the giant in the backside, causing it to howl in fury, giving Sadira time to get up and away from the wall. She ran toward her partner, picking up speed.

  "Make him swing at you!" she yelled, running behind Gavin. "I need his club on the ground!"

  The Giant obliged without any effort from Gavin, swinging his club over his head and sending it crashing down toward the Gladiator. Gavin moved aside while Sadira leapt in, her elegant black blades cutting the giant's unarmoured hands and wrists while Gavin stabbed his feet. The giant howled in rage as his hands bled from deep cuts.

  Turg backed away, pulling his vulnerable arms out of reach. He watched the Gladiators warily now, snarling. He sensed danger from these two little things, hating them for the pain they caused him. He moved in carefully, waiting for his chance to smash one to a pulp.

  Gavin realized that the only way for them to defeat the giant was to get him to swing again so Sadira could get close and strike him before he could ready his massive club for another attack. He moved forward, hoping to lure the brute into a wild swing. The giant tensed but did not move. Gavin edged forward again. Tension filled the arena. Turg's lip curled, exposing his sharp yellow teeth.

  And then, with shocking suddenness,, the giant lunged, thrusting his massive club forward at the Gladiator like a spear, low to the ground. The Giant's long reach and surprisingly swift movement caught the Gladiator in a poor position, and he was forced to meet the attack directly with his shield, with no chance of a proper deflection. The force of the blow sent Gavin flying backwards. He fell heavily, skidding against the moss and stone. Coming to rest awkwardly, Gavin tasted blood. His shield arm was broken, along with most of his ribs. He looked up, hearing Sadira's war-scream split the air.

  Sadira nimbly leapt onto the huge club, running up the thick spike-covered shaft before the giant could raise the heavy weapon. The audience held their breath as she ran lightly up the length of wood and iron as the giant began to lift it again. Her swift feet did not falter and halfway up the trunk she sprang upwards with all her strength. She soared into the air like a sword-winged bird of prey; a second, louder war-scream breaking from her lips as she took flight. Time seemed frozen for Gavin and the watching audience; Reacting slowly, Turg's expression was one of dumb horror as he began to flinch away from Sadira. She saw the reflection of her blades in the giant's eyes. She smelled his rank breath as it exhaled and then she struck, driving her curved obsidian swords into the soft orbs. The crowd gasped as she buried her swords to the hilt, blood and gore bursting forth as the sharp blade-tips broke through to the back of the beast's skull.

  Turg staggered and toppled, dead before he could even react. Sadira fell with him, riding his skull into the ground, jumping off and landing lightly on her feet as the impact of his massive body shook the arena. She left her swords in the giant's eyes and started to run toward the fallen Gavin. The last thing Gavin heard before losing consciousness was the crowd, chanting her name.

  Chapter Seven: Venom

  1140/06/04 AR, Dreadwood Junction

  "Few choices are as simple as they seem. You may be a truly talented fighter, but standing between you and the Championships are a whole lot of vested interests. These agents, recruiters, Arena-Masters, faction promoters, and patrons are all looking for the opportunity to use someone like you for their own ends. Sure, you can scoff and refuse to play the game; just keep in mind that these would-be-patrons can be more of an obstacle if you make enemies of them. And even if you take all of this into account, there are still the Chosen." Master Korum

  "Next time you get flattened by a giant, I am going to carry you out of the arena cradled in my arms, like a child, right in front of everyone," Sadira teased, smiling brightly.

  Gavin rolled his eyes, but was unable to keep the ghost of a smile off his face. "Well next time, kill it faster, girl; I was getting bored and tired waiting for you to finish him off."

  Ravius and Karmal, waiting with them at the Arena Master's office, both laughed, more at Gavin's uncharacteristic burst of humour than the wit of his comment.

  "Mox really takes his time." Sadira's expressive face quickly darkened as she thought about the Arena Master. Her friends had told her she could not even say the man's name without wrinkling her nose in disgust; she had to admit it was true. She had worn the least flattering outfit she could buy for this meeting, hoping to keep the Mox's mind on business; part of her chaffed at having to do this. "He only meets with Gladiators to arrange matches once a week; I would think that he would have the good grace to show up on time after the great performance we gave him last time!"

  "I don't know little sister. I think he was too busy trying to get his hands up under Karmal's skirt to notice what was going on!" Ravius smile disappeared as Karmal punched his arm. She glared at him. She had watched the match with the arena master as the Arena Master's special guest, and found the man even more repulsive in private.

  "Let’s not talk about that." Karmal's tone was even, but her piercing green eyes flashed like lightning on the horizon, warning of a coming storm. Ravius swallowed his desire to taunt her further, and instead made a show of bowing in mock gentlemanly acquiescence. The topic of conversation steered quickly toward gossip that the smiling skirmisher had picked up about the other Gladiators in Dreadwood. There were plenty of interesting rumours, especially about the two local favourites, a pair of rank two Gladiatrices who had won three Deathmatches in a row.

  Sadira knew that her childhood friend would not trade her body to someone like Mox, even if it meant that she would have an easier time in the arena. She knew firsthand that Karmal rarely sought out the company of men. Something else was going on. She'd overseen Karmal talking to a particularly stern looking woman wearing Grey-Robes twice in the last month. Was the Deliberative using Karmal to bait Mox into doing something foolish? She wanted to ask, but it was a taboo subject among Gladiators; if one of your peers had business with the Deliberative, it was not polite to take notice. The thought of Karmal luring Dreadwood Junction's corrupt arena master into incriminating himself made her smile again. But she also knew her friend was ambitious and might try to play Mox's game for personal gain.

  Gavin was just enjoying the day, thankful to be alive and well. It had taken some time for him to fully recover from the injuries he had sustained last match; most of his ribs had been shattered and some of his organs ruptured by the giant Turg's brutal attack. An ungifted man, even a massive ogre or stout dwarf would not likely have survived the hit at all, and certainly would have been crippled. As a Gladiator, Gavin's body had been through years of conditioning; his magic helped his body repair itself without conscious effort. He was profoundly thankful for this. Still, it had taken an expert healer to ensure that no lasting damage was done, and he had been weak for some time afterwards. Ugly dreams had haunted him afterwards, but Sadira's loving embrace now chased them away. He was happy to have her.

  Meady Mox arrived at his office some time later, surveying the Gladiators lined up with ill-concealed disdain. Sadira hated him even more for the way he looked down his nose at the Gladiators; she could crush him like a bug! Mox puffed his chest out and tilted his chin as he climbed the ornate ironwood stairs to his office.

  The Arena Master was accompanied by a timid, pretty young woman carrying most of his files. Gavin frowned at the half-hidden bruises on her arm. Sadira snarled; she was suddenly glad they did not let her carry her swords in this part of town. She could not abide a man like Meady Mox taking liberties with his position; the thought that he might be also abusive in other ways made her blood boil.

  Several Gladiators were in line ahead of Gavin and
Sadira. None of them were allowed to wait inside the office. In spite of the spacious waiting room, they were forced to stand outside. Ravius joked that he should have brought a ball. For Gladiators, used to spending their lives in constant physical training, waiting in line, inactive, is especially odious. Sadira already bristled with impatience by the time Ravius was called in. She wanted to be on the training grounds or running through the forest at the edge of town, not waiting for some pompous ass.

  "Two months!" Ravius sighed, shaking his head, as he emerged fifteen minutes later. "The only other match he offered me was later today. And on top of that he lectured me about needing to play more to the crowd. Me! What a bastard!"

  "You barely have time to fight between taunts as it is..." murmured Vintia, which made thick skinned Ravius grin and ruffle the smaller Gladiatrix's blond hair, as a man might do to his son. She made a face at him as the others laughed.

  Karmal went in and came out much more quickly. She seemed pensive as she left, but signalled wordlessly to Sadira that she did not want to talk. Gavin noted the exchange; Karmal, Vintia, and Sadira often seemed able to communicate with the smallest of gestures, a technique that served them well on and off the fighting grounds.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Mox's mousy-looking clerk motioned to Gavin and Sadira to enter. They both smiled at the woman, but she did not meet their eyes, keeping her head lowered submissively. Gavin wondered if she was afraid of them; many of the ungifted were terrified of those who could wield magic, especially Gladiators. Not everyone loved the Great Games.

  Sadira took a moment to rope in her anger. She needed Mox for now and she could not afford the luxury of losing her temper. She mustered her sweetest smile as his beady little eyes flicked up from his desk. She could not wait to get out of this town and away from small-time Arena Masters like Meady Mox.

  Gavin was impressed at Sadira's composure. He followed suit, letting her do the talking. He was not much for small talk anyways, preferring deeper conversation in less hostile places.

  "Sadira, please come in." Meady Mox was slightly disappointed that Sadira had chosen to wear trousers and a short tunic instead of her revealing armour. Still, he had to admit she looked delicious regardless of her attire. To a man like Mox, beauty only consists of the size and shape of a woman’s lips, breasts, hips, and buttocks; he did not even notice her eyes flaring as his gaze roamed her body. He was so busy violating her visually that he barely noticed Gavin's rising colour. "Please take a seat, both of you."

  "Thank you." Sadira sat gracefully, her eyes never leaving the Arena Master's face. She noticed immediately how his greedy stare, in turn, never left her breasts after his initial examination. This, despite her modest outfit. In the arena any man with so little self-control would be entirely too easy to defeat. Her contempt for him was absolute. The fact that he barely heeded Gavin's presence made her even angrier. She held her ire down with an effort of will, smiling sweetly while she listened.

  "I was impressed with your last match. You looked good out there." Mox allowed a hint of admiration to show in his tone, but then furrowed his brow. Sadira felt as if the man was still speaking entirely to her, ignoring Gavin which only added fuel to the furnace of her anger. "On the other hand, Giants are quite expensive... It would have been much better for Dreadwood Arena if you had left Turg with enough life in him that I could use him again."

  "But surely the spectacular ending we gave you was more than worth it?" Sadira said, thinking I will not let this man get to me! She smiled, keeping her tone pleasant as if they were discussing the weather instead of the arena. "Given the additional Victory Coins and Patron Gifts we received, your part of the profits must have been quite large..."

  Damn her! Mox was surprised by Sadira's insight. He covered up with a thoughtful pause, pursing his lips. "Hmmm..." He pretended to glance over a random piece of paper on his desk. "My data shows that we made enough to cover the costs of a new giant. However, I have to consider the extraneous factors here. How can I be sure that it was the giant's death that people liked about your match? Maybe they liked the fact that your boyfriend here got smashed up. I just don't have reliable metrics here. Additionally I have to calculate the hidden costs of killing the giant; he was becoming a reliable and popular asset in his own right. Who knows what kind of money he could have brought in if you hadn't killed him? I have to think long term here... I would not expect a Gladiator to understand."

  Gavin raised his brow. The flaws in the man's reasoning were so obvious to him. The Arena Master lacked any sense of the big picture, and was more interested in bean counting than taking the risks needed to build a real following for his little arena. Mox obfuscated his failures by taking on the mantle of a world-weary expert talking down to those who cannot understand his troubles.

  Sadira could not believe that Mox was making this argument. She took a keen interest in all aspects of her career. She was sure that the extra money and reputation that a spectacular fight brought to a small arena like this was worth far more than any giant. If it wasn't so, why would he even invest in a giant in the first place? She waited for him to continue, seething inwardly.

  "Now you two have potential, and your match did make me a profit in spite of your recklessness... so I won't hold it against you, this time." He smiled; it was a serpent's smile, lacking in warmth. "I am prepared to offer you a couple of options. I have a great match against two trolls. You can cut them up all you want and they should live through it. I think this is your best option; you can really showcase your talents and the cost is low, but it is four months from now...."

  Sadira felt trapped, like a cornered animal. She just wanted to get out of Dreadwood Junction, but Mox could ruin her reputation with his extensive connections too easily. They were not yet famous enough to attract the notice of Faction recruiters; they needed to get a few more good matches under their belts. Although she had hoped that their amazing performance would win the greedy little Arena Master over, apparently he valued his control more than his pocketbook. She said nothing, cursing him inwardly.

  "What is the other option?" Gavin broke in. Mox's eyes reluctantly left Sadira's ripe body and darted toward her male companion; he wondered if the boy was lucky enough to have enjoyed the feel of Sadira magnificent tits in his hands. He looked like such a loser. Envy, followed by hatred for Gavin, awoke in the Arena Master. He would show them both who was in charge here!

  "Well... I don't really think this is the best option..." He sighed dramatically. Both Sadira and Gavin saw the glee he was trying to hide appear in his eyes. "But I have two really great girls who are quite popular with the locals who happen to be looking for a pairs Deathmatch. Cat and Bella, maybe you've heard of them? They're pretty hot right now. I don't know if you can beat them, but if you can put up a good fight I'm sure the audience will show mercy. That match we can arrange at any time, as long as the Deliberative approves."

  Gavin and Sadira had heard of Cat and Bella. The duo was notorious with the other Gladiators of Dreadwood because of the favours they bestowed on the Arena Master in exchange for getting the best matches. They had also won two pairs Deathmatches, gaining considerable fame for themselves. The audience had not shown their opponents mercy. Ravius said that many of the higher ranking Gladiators who fought in the Dreadwood arena grumbled at playing second fiddle to these two.

  Sadira's eyes blazed at the idea of such a match. Trying to lure them into a life and death battle with his favourite sex-toys was just disgusting. She felt sure that she could thrash any woman who traded favours with Mox, but the idea of risking Gavin's life made her strangely uncomfortable and so she kept her silence. This was an unusual feeling for the strong-willed Gladiatrix; she never feared for her own safety.

  "My friend Ravius mentioned a match later today that you were having trouble filling," Gavin said evenly, savouring the venomous look the Arena Master shot him. "What about that?"

  "Well I don't think it is a good match for you." Mox
sighed again, trying to draw the weight of the world onto his shoulders like a mantle of dignity. "You have not recovered fully yet, young man; I'm sure I will find someone else for it."

  "I appreciate your concern sir." Gavin smiled innocently, filling his voice with sincerity. "But, I have a letter from the Deliberative certifying that I am fit to fight right here. Sadira and I are more than up to it. We cost you your giant; let us make it up to you by fighting today. I feel it would be the right thing to do considering all the kindness you have shown us. Also, we will be a bigger draw with our last match fresh in people's minds."

  Mox cursed inwardly. The young man had outmanoeuvred him by keeping the letter to himself until now. He could not give a different reason to deny them the match at this point; it would give them a real complaint to bring before the Deliberative. He would survive for sure; the Grey-Robes were stupid compared to a ruthless businessman like himself, but too many complaints against him would be embarrassing. It wasn't worth it for him to put up any more resistance. He would let them take the match.

  "I am glad to hear it my young friend." His smile was wide, but it did not touch his eyes. "In that case I will be happy to let you fight today. The battle is against two scorpions. I'll have to make a couple of changes so the match suits you, but I'll run them by the Grey-Robes this afternoon."

  "Thank you, sir!" Gavin ignored the implied threat. He knew there was little Meady Mox could get away with once a match was signed. That level of interference was beyond even the Chosen... at least in theory. Sadira and Gavin looked over the particulars of the match, signed, and left the office without another word.

  Mox watched Sadira as she left, paying close attention to her shapely hips and luscious posterior. Then he called his assistant into the office and ordered her to write a note to Gladiatrix Bella, and to make some last minute changes to this afternoon's Scorpion Match. He had left a clause for terrain adjustments in; this gave him a little room to manoeuvre, and he would make this afternoon's encounter as unpleasant as possible for hot-bodied Sadira and her boy-toy.