Vanquished

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Vanquished Page 4

by S. E. Green


  Though everyone’s using swords and shields to train, I lean down and pick up a spear. It’s a little smaller than a javelin, but the most familiar thing here. I turn and look at Alexior, and he nods his approval.

  I take a second to familiarize myself with the difference in weight and shape and center of gravity. I’m used to throwing a six foot javelin and this spear is about a foot shorter. It’s also lighter. The grip’s what I’m familiar with, though, and wrapped with leather.

  Wiping my sweaty palms on my tunic, I put it in position overhand and turn toward the training area. I need running space to gain momentum. I step on the other side of the large wooden box where no one is training and back all the way up.

  I take off in a jog, feeling the bounce and weight. Yes, it’s definitely smaller. I point my left finger where I want it to go, leap off the ground, and bring my arm back as I use my shoulder and triceps to throw it through the air.

  It sails a respectable distance and skids across the dirt. I frown. That’s not where I was aiming.

  Laughter fills the air and I turn to see Sera. I glare at her. This one’s different than I’m used to throwing! I want to snap at her, but instead ignore her and go retrieve my practice weapon.

  As I stalk back to my original spot, I glance up to the terrace to see Dominus and his wife and several more of the rich and elite.

  They’re drinking and talking and idly watching us train. Behind all of them stand a row of slave girls. I see the one who was forced to get in the pool. She is staring straight ahead in a brainwashed haze. I wonder what her name is.

  Two women over to the left are giggling and eyeing several of the men warriors. It hadn’t occurred to me until this second that the men captives are used and discarded just as us women.

  I push their disgusting rich selves from my brain and resume my spot. I try again, jogging, throwing, and do better this time. I actually spear the dirt.

  My dad always coached me to fine-tune my “distance” weapon skills for self-defense. Things I could throw. Things that would injure my opponent without hand-to-hand combat. Though he taught me plenty of that as well.

  Again and again I reacquaint myself with the spear until I’m consistently spearing not only the ground, but specific spots on the ground. Next I want to try an actual target. I turn and glance up to the elite on the terrace. Those are some good targets.

  “Halt!” Alexior commands.

  I put my spear down, use my tunic to wipe the sweat off my face, and go stand in line with the other warriors and recruits.

  Dominus addresses us from the terrace. “My esteemed guests,” he indicates those who are standing with him, “would like to see an exhibition.” He turns to the heavyset man on his right. “Who is your first pick?”

  ~9~

  The heavyset man looks right at Sera. “You know the Serpent of Saligia is my favorite.”

  Sera waggles her snakelike tongue and steps forward out of line.

  “Who shall she go up against?” Dominus asks the others.

  A tall skinny woman standing beside the heavyset man points right at me. “Isn’t that the one you paid fifty thousand for? I want to see that little one go up against her.”

  My heart skips a beat and then starts racing.

  Alexior steps forward. “Dominus, Valoria has only just begun training. She is not ready for an exhibition.”

  Dominus looks from Alexior over to me and then at the tall skinny woman who delivers an ugly pout. “Please. We’ll pay double,” she says, slipping her arm through the heavyset man’s. “Won’t we, darling?”

  He chuckles indulgingly. “Yes, yes we will.”

  Dominus nods to Alexior. “As they wish.”

  Camille shoots me a worried glance that I purposefully turn away from. The last thing I need floating in my brain is doubt. Will I beat Sera? Probably not. But I will give this, whatever this exhibition is, my best.

  If this is part of getting Lena back, doing whatever Dominus says, then I’ll do it. Of course I’ll do it.

  The warriors and the recruits go to stand along the perimeter of the training ground, leaving me and Sera alone in the courtyard. Alexior hands a wooden practice sword to Sera first and then brings one to me.

  “She’s a stronger opponent,” he quietly tells me. “Do not allow advantage to your back. You are small. Use that to your benefit. Draw her to you then use her strength against her.” With that, he backs off, leaving me to wonder how exactly I’m supposed to execute what he just said.

  “I would like them to use real weapons,” someone calls out, and I snap my eyes up to the terrace.

  Bareket is there now, standing off by herself, staring her beady eyes right at me.

  Every single one of my tendons and muscles tense in fiery anger.

  Dominus lets out a nervous laugh. “Bareket—”

  “It’s what I want.” She flings her jeweled hand through the air. “If it’s their lives you’re worried about, I’ll reimburse you double should one perish.”

  My mouth goes completely dry. I can’t help myself from looking over at Sera who seems as stunned as I am.

  Dominus nods. “As you wish.” He looks down at Alexior. “Let them choose their weapon.”

  My feet stay rooted to the dirt as frenzied blood throbs through me. I’m going to die. My world tilts, then everything mutes. I’m going to pass out.

  Alexior appears again in front of me. He peels my fingers off of the wooden sword and hands me a smaller spear than the one I just practiced with. This one has a blade attached to the end.

  “Look at me,” he commands.

  I bring my dazed eyes up to his.

  “Focus. Think of your sister. Neither you nor Sera have to die. When it comes time to surrender, do so with the show of an index finger.” He wraps my hand around the spear and goes to stand with the others around the perimeter of the training ground.

  “Begin!” Dominus commands from the terrace.

  “Valoria!” Sera shouts. “You will die here in this dirt.”

  Indeed they enjoyed her so much, they offered a fair price to take her with them.

  Bareket’s voice echoes around me and tears spring to my eyes.

  “You’re crying?” Sera laughs. “What were you all thinking giving me this one?”

  I clench my jaw and focus in on her standing some twenty feet away. Behind her I see the other warriors and recruits and their images slowly blur until Sera, in all her hugeness, is the only thing in my line of sight.

  I feel my sister’s bracelet around my wrist, and it’s like warm water slowly washes over me, cleansing me, taking with it any last remnant of panic and replacing it with rage and strength and power.

  I welcome the renewed control.

  “Valoria!” Sera taunts again.

  With a yell, I take off in a full sprint toward her.

  She throws her sword through the air at me. End over end it hurtles, and I dive to the right as it whistles past. I come to my knees and sling the spear. She ducks, and it sails past straight toward Gem.

  “Gem!” I yell.

  She doesn’t react quickly enough and the blade nicks her leg. Guilt twitches inside of me, and I push it away. Focus.

  Sera uses the second of distraction to retrieve her sword.

  I whirl on her. “You’re pathetic,” I spit. “I’m unarmed and half your size and you feel like you need a sword? I thought you were Sera, Serpent of Saligia.”

  Up on the terrace people laugh, and Sera’s jaw tightens. I know she won’t use that sword now. It would make her look like a fool.

  As expected she tosses it aside, and we charge each other. I hurl myself through the air and our bodies slam together. She picks me up and flings me to the dirt and my head bounces off the ground.

  Her fist comes back and straight into my face. Blood slings through the air. Something crunches. My nose. She broke my goddamn nose!

  I press all ten fingers into her face and scream as I dig in hard. She grabs
my wrists and slings my arms away and I come right back at her with a punch to the esophagus.

  She gags and I use the momentary reprieve to curl my legs in and roll away. I sprint over to my spear, snatch it up, turn and whip it through the air. It flies toward her and before she has time to dodge, it slices open her upper arm.

  She doesn’t even give the split skin a glance as she jumps to her feet and runs at me. I try to sidestep her, but for a big woman, she’s quick. She catches air in a roundhouse kick, her sandaled foot connects with my jaw, and the momentum flings my body up against the stone wall.

  Then she’s on me, punching me. I feel her fists everywhere. My face. My chest. My stomach. Blood spurts. Somewhere deep down I find the will to bring my knee up hard straight into her groin. The contact stops her.

  With one hand she holds me up against the stone wall, towering above me, panting, glaring at me. I don’t fight back. If it weren’t for her hand holding me up, I would be a boneless, lifeless pile in the dirt.

  When it comes time to surrender, do so with the show of an index finger.

  Stubbornness struggles within me. I can barely see her through all the blood and swollen skin. I’ve never been the type of person to give in. But if I do not, those people up on the terrace will gladly let her beat me to death, and she won’t have a problem doing it.

  With everything in me, I raise my quivering arm to try one last time. Sera must think I’m going to surrender because she glances over her shoulder and up to the terrace at Dominus. He starts to give a thumbs down—

  I jab my thumb straight into Sera’s eye socket and keep right on jabbing until I hear pop. She lurches away, simultaneously holding her eye and thrusting a finger straight up in the air.

  My body slides down the wall. She surrendered…

  “No,” Bareket cries. “I want to see Valoria die.”

  I close my eyes and think of my sister. The last thing we ate together was an orange. She giggled when it squirted me in the eye.

  “I want to live,” I whisper, my lips so puffy it barely seeps out.

  Bareket’s smirk is the last thing I see before I pass out.

  ~10~

  The same old lady who cut my hair tends to me when I wake up. I’m lying on my back in a room I haven’t been in yet. I try to move and end up groaning instead. My entire body feels like I’ve been trampled by bulls.

  “Bruised rib, broken nose, bashed eye, stitches.” The old lady tisks.

  I turn my head on a grimace.

  “Stay still,” she snaps.

  Groggily I stare from the corner of my eye as she purses her lips and stitches up my cheek. I don’t even feel it. She tugs the thread, ties it off, and snips it.

  Beyond her I see a couple of empty cots, shelving with bottles of herbs, and various utensils I assume are her medical tools.

  I try to swallow but my throat is dry and swollen.

  She sees the movement and limps across the cell to her desk. I hadn’t noticed her limp before. Or the fact her shoulders sag and hunch.

  She hobbles back over and holds a battered goblet to my lips and I try to drink, but most of it dribbles out of my numb mouth.

  “What’s your name?” I croak.

  She frowns down at me in confusion, like no one’s ever asked her name.

  “Talme,” she tells me.

  “That’s a pretty name.”

  She just looks at me, and I wonder what could’ve brought her here to Saligia. Was she kidnapped like me? Did she sign a contract like Gem? Or does she work for them like Alexior does?

  “Dominus has given you three days to heal and rest.” Talme lifts the thin material draped over my naked body, checks my bandages, and walks out.

  I close my eyes. I wish I felt like crying. That’s the thought I have before I drift off.

  When I open them next, Alexior stands over me. I try to smile. I don’t know why. He and I are certainly not friends.

  His gray gaze takes in my battered face. He holds the goblet to my lips and I eagerly drink the entire thing.

  I breathe and roll my tongue around in my mouth. It doesn’t feel as swollen as the last time I woke up. “How long have I been out?”

  “A day.”

  Dominus said I only get three. I can’t imagine I’ll be ready to go back out there and train in two days. I shift a little on the cot, and my shoulder sparks with fire. I lift it off the table, cringing, trying to see.

  Alexior puts a stern hand on my chest. “Lie still.”

  “My shoulder,” I gasp.

  “It’s the branding. You have the mark of Saligia now. It’s a true honor.” He turns to show me the S branded on his shoulder as well. Just like the one I saw on Sera in the bath house.

  “What?” I don’t understand. “I thought only those who win in the fights get that.”

  “Or those who beat a warrior.”

  My brows come down, and my stomach lurches at the thought of what I did to Sera’s eye.

  “Yes, she lost it,” Alexior tells me, seemingly reading my mind.

  I wince. “I can’t believe I popped someone’s eye out.”

  He turns to leave. “I’ll leave you to your rest.”

  I close my eyes and even though Sera and I are enemies, even though she would’ve killed me out there, guilt still twinges through me.

  The next time I wake, Talme is gently dabbing something on my cheek. It’s an ointment and smells—I crinkle my nose—like shit.

  “I know,” she says. “But it’s good.”

  She grabs a bowl and a spoon and begins feeding me soup. The broth slides over my tongue and down to soothe my raw, starving stomach. I haven’t eaten in days, I realize, and impatiently open my mouth for more.

  “Easy,” she coaches and makes me eat the rest painfully slow.

  When I’m done I close my eyes and once again am gone.

  Daylight shines in the narrow window and flashes across my face. The warmth and brightness is what has me opening my eyes and simultaneously squinting against the beam. I give myself a few minutes to orient and carefully push up to a sitting position.

  The sheet slides down me and I note I’m still naked underneath. I look around the cell and find that I’m alone. I flex my body, my neck, arms, and legs. The sharp pangs have dulled now to a sporadic throb. I wonder if it’s day three.

  I slide off the cot and on unsteady legs, stand.

  The door opens and Talme walks in. Her eyes widen when she sees me.

  “What day is it?” I ask.

  “You’re on day five. Dominus came in to see you on day three and granted you two additional healing days. Be glad. He’s never done that before.”

  She checks all my stitches and bandages and cuts and bruises, then grabs my white undergarments and brown tunic and helps me get dressed.

  The last thing she hands me is Lena’s bracelet.

  There is no mirror so I have no clue what I look like. I imagine it’s not good. But for a person who has been in bed for five days, I don’t feel unclean. Talme must have bathed me.

  “Why are you here?” I ask her. “In Saligia.” She doesn’t seem like the others.

  “I’ve got no other place to go,” she answers simply before handing me a goblet and walking out.

  I take some healthy gulps of water, pondering her response. I should’ve asked how she came to be here in Saligia. Next time I’m alone with her I will.

  The warriors are eating breakfast when I emerge, and the recruits sit in their usual spot on the ground in the corner. My fingers trail up and over my shoulder and across the scabby branded S. I’m one of them now.

  I don’t consider it an honor at all. But I will fake that I do. I will try to be proud of it. And I will keep my mouth shut and stay out of trouble.

  The warriors catch sight of me and all stand. I hesitate at the incredibly awkward and unexpected greeting. I glance over to the patch covering Sera’s eye and make myself hard against the sight. There is no place for weakness here in Sal
igia.

  I look to the ground where Camille and Gem and all the recruits stare at me with tense expressions.

  I gaze to Alexior next who as usual remains stoic. Then I turn back to Sera and Ignatius and the other warriors. They clear a spot at one of the tables for me where a plate of fruit and cheese and bread already awaits.

  Just the sight of it makes my stomach growl.

  I walk straight toward it and pick it up. “Thank you,” I tell them all.

  My resolve to keep my mouth shut and stay out of trouble immediately dissipates. It’s just not me. I turn to the recruits sitting like dogs on the ground with empty bowls in front of them that I know barely had a crumb to start.

  I cross the eating area and set my plate down in the center of their pathetic circle. “Eat,” I tell them, then walk right back over to the serving line and fill a new plate with more food. I turn to the warriors. “Where’s your compassion? Dogs eat better than them.”

  Sera narrows her eye. I glance over to the recruits who out of fear have not touched what I put in front of them.

  “Eat,” I tell them again, proud my voice comes across clear and firm.

  With one last hesitant look toward the warriors, the recruits dig in.

  I stand, eating my own, fully aware everyone is staring at me and not caring.

  Starting today, things will change around this place. Something inside of me loosens with the realization and then tightens right back up with determination. We may be in some twisted cosplay of the rich and elite, but that doesn’t mean we have to lose our humanity. We are not animals.

  ~11~

  Over the next week me, Camille, Gem, and the other recruits settle into the pace of training from sunup to sundown.

  We practice with the wooden swords and shields. Throw nets at each other. Toss leather balls heavy with sand. Climb knotted ropes. Traverse an obstacle course with swinging mallets. And practice fighting formations.

 

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