Every day was the same except when Tallonus would accompany his gladiators to the arenas on days of battle.
In the evening they had a family meal. Then the boys would be sent to bed while their father and Grandfather usually relaxed over a jug of Tallasian ale.
It had now been one Imperial month since the annual Rion sword contest had ended, a gladiatorial event of great tradition and importance that was staged in the greatest arena in Kratos, the Imperial arena of Kallick town.
Gladiator schools from all over Kratos would send their finest men to compete in the competition where fighting was of the highest standard with the victor of each weight class being pronounced champion gladiator or “ GOLHECK “ in the ancient tongue.
Great riches followed such a title, the new champions fame was immediately recognized across the whole of Kratos and as Golheck he would then be given two choices by the emperor himself. The first choice would be to remain Golheck travelling the land fighting in the great arenas where he would be paid a King’s ransom and return to defend his standing. The second choice was more tempting, he would be granted an honourable enlistment into the legendary Palace gladiatorial guard, the emperor’s own personal army deep within the mysterious Imperial Palace lands.
Last month’s contest celebrated its third century of existence; it was staged with all the regal splendour that such a momentous occasion deserved. The milestone event was given every expense; it was a huge celebration for three centuries of the highest combat.
But this was not going to be remembered for its history, it was going to be the year when the rules of the Rion sword contest were totally rewritten.
An unbelievable surprise had presented itself in the shape of a man named Kleg, a man of total obscurity just one year ago.
Kleg had had to fight and prevail in over one hundred contests in four months just to make qualification. In just one year around Kratos he had become a legend, he defied all the odds with a bravery some said they had never witnessed before.
In his final qualifier for the Rion contest he prevailed in a contest where his sword controversially broke, Kleg battled on and took his opponents sword where he earned himself a miraculous victory. There were also rumours and suspicions that he survived an attempt to be poisoned.
When Kleg went to the finals he became the first civilian man to ever reach the Rion contest.
On the last day of the final’s, Kleg’s clothes were stolen, his sword went missing, and four Imperial soldiers tried to goad him into a fight whilst changing in the weapon room of the arena.
Kleg resisted every distraction and went on to win the coveted title; suddenly the competition was thrown into disarray. The third century of competition was a giant milestone but Kleg had achieved another, one which was commonly thought of as impossibility, a civilian had become Golheck.
The decision made nine years ago by the Imperial General’s as a good will gesture to allow civilians the right to enter the contest had now slapped them hard in the face.
Kleg was a problem, there was no way that a civilian could be offered the choice of enlistment into the Palace gladiatorial guard and when he was not offered it, the crowd in the arena erupted into shouts of anger.
It was a terrible insult to Kleg and a terrible insult to his trainer Tallonus and school of Tallonus.
Back in Tallasian, the past month had passed painfully slow for Tallonus, he knew that the great insult was on every ones lips but he tried to hide his feelings of betrayal through the pride of Kleg’s victories.
“ You should have been there with me father, with my own eyes I witnessed Kleg become Golheck, these eyes that I look at you now wept with pride father” sighed Tallonus to his father Zalon who just glimpsed up from his jug of ale looking glumly at his son’s comment.
“A winner of the Rion sword contest trained here in Tallasian, at our school and by these hands Father.” Tallonus added showing his Father his hands as once again Zalon remained silent.
“Father what is wrong? Will you not toast our success with me?” Tallonus said as he held out his jug towards his Father.
“Do you not feel pride at what this school has achieved, for the first time in three centuries a champion has emerged from the south of Kratos!, from our school, trained by you and I.”
Zalon suddenly pushed his jug away and sighed loudly as if in disgust at his son.
“How blind can a son of mine be?” he sighed surprising his son.
“Your brothers would be turning in their graves at your rejoice for this Imperial contest.”
He sternly added while emphasizing loudly with disdain the word Imperial.
Tallonus leaned back in his chair in surprise.
“Why must you speak like this father?” he asked.
Suddenly the jugs on the table jumped into the air as Zalon angrily banged his huge fist onto its wooden top.
“How much more must I hear of this damn contest..... Your admiration for this damn Imperial contest sickens me to the pit of my stomach.”
“Father.”
“No!” Zalon shouted before adding.
“Three hundred years, you say, three hundred glorious years of contest you tell me, mouthing it like a romantic yarn. You’re a damn fool my son, you praise the last three centuries for its Rion contest when you should be damning this infernal Empire for three centuries of slavery it has imposed upon your people!”
Tallonus rose from his chair in an angered pose.
“I will not be drawn into this again.” he said reminding his father of past confrontations they had on this topic.
Zalon banged the table again.
“Damn it son, you are Zachanian.”
“No father I am not!”
Zalon now rose to his feet, a look of disgust and surprise was now on his face.
“The Empire is your sworn enemy.” He growled as the conversation turned into an argument.
“ How many more times must I tell you father, I am not Zachanian, my ancestors were born from that land, both you and I were born Tallasians, my wife is Tallasian, my sons are Tallasian, we work and live in Tallasian, like it or not we are all Imperial subjects.”
“Enough!” Zalon shouted.
“I will hear no more of your words, I will not stand here and witness you renounce your ancestors and heritage.”
“My ancestors died centuries ago father.” Tallonus pleaded to his father’s now turned back.
There was a slight silence as Zalon rubbed his head in a gesture of frustration.
“If your brothers lived they would take your life for what you speak.” he mouthed quietly.
Tallonus rushed to his father and violently grabbed his arm turning him around to face him.
“For most of my life I have had to listen to you preach upon my brothers names! For years you have abused me on how they would be ashamed of their younger brother. For years I have had to listen to your lies that my life has not lived up to theirs, but one thing you forget father, my brothers died in the gladiator arena and not as mythical Zachanian warriors on some holy crusade that happened centuries ago, they were no more Zachanian than you or I.”
Zalon burst into rage at his son’s outburst and pushed him onto the floor; he then reached above the fire place and grabbed the sword that always lay there.
“Will your Zachanian honour take the life of his last son?” Tallonus mouthed from his position on the floor which was more said as a challenge to his father who stood above him with the sword now raised ready to strike.
Zalon bit hard on his lip as he looked deeply into his sons eyes, the old warrior finally accepted that his son was a lost cause as his own eyes filled with emotion.
“We are so alike in many ways my son.” he said as he lowered the sword and threw it at the wall before returning to his chair.
“Your stubbornness could only spur from my loins son.”
The two men both once again sat down at the table, there was a long silence before Tallonus spoke.
“I do understand you father, they are after all my ancestors too, but times have changed. Zachania was a time centuries ago, there is no longer a Zachania nor are there Zachanian’s. This Empire that you speak so angrily about is all that exists now, it has been good to me, given me this school, I am respected throughout the whole of Kratos and my friends are Imperial soldiers, everything I have achieved in this life gives me pride. Can you not somehow understand this father?”
“I would call it shame.” his father gasped.
“Father is it shame to care for one’s family, is it shame to wish them a happy future.”
“And what of Klegs family? Who will now put food on their table?” Zalon answered as he reminded his son of the fact that he had returned from Kallick town alone.
“They will in due course be summoned to join him in the north.” his son replied.
“If you believe that then you’re a fool, his family will never see him again. Wait for the word, it will soon come ...a message shall express the Empires great sorrow that Kleg has died by accident, when the truth is hidden that his throat will be cut in his sleep by an Imperial blade. They will never allow him to live, a civilian hero is a hero too many for this Empire.”
Tallonus shook his head at his father’s remark, he merely rose to his feet and retired to his room that was one comment he knew was true.
The next morning began in the usual Tallasian way with the mists that rolled in from the ocean taking a few hours to burn away to reveal a blue sunny sky.
Tallonus had returned from his dawn duties with his son’s to join his wife for breakfast. The twins were fetching water while Talon played with his Grandfather in the courtyard; Tallonus carved bread with his wife.
“Your father’s outbursts are getting louder and more brash Tallonus, I could hear you both clearly last night from our room, Talon also mentioned that he heard you arguing.”
“Talon never mentioned anything to me.” Tallonus replied.
“He wouldn’t, I have noticed that he hardly confides in you anymore Tallonus.”
“Ah that’s just him growing up; you know what boys are like at that age.”
“Is it?” Shirose said with a hidden meaning in her voice as she looked up and out of the window at her son playing with his Grandfather in the courtyard “He idolizes your father” she added cautiously.
Tallonus turned towards the window, his face breaking into smile as he remembered how he and his brothers would train with their father.
“So did we my love, he taught us every fighting move imaginable.” he added as he looked at Talon and his father sword fighting with wooden swords, his concentration captured by the proper technique that his son was showing. Tallonus looked on for a few more moments as his smile turned to pride until suddenly he raced into the courtyard at the bemusement of his wife to confront his father.
“Talon to your room now!” he shouted sternly “what’s wrong with you?” Zalon gasped puzzled.
Once Talon had left, Tallonus turned and grabbed his father’s arm “what was you teaching the boy?” he sternly asked.
“I was showing him the ancient ways.” Zalon proudly replied.
“What did you say to him father?”
“I told him it was a Zachanian defence move.”
Blood suddenly flowed into the face of Tallonus at his father’s answer; Tallonus calmed himself before ushering his father inside the house where he asked his wife to clear the room.
“I have tolerated all that I can with you father, many times have I asked you not to speak of Zachania to the boys, I cannot and will not tolerate you poisoning their minds.”
“Poisoning his mind… By telling him of his heritage.” Zalon snapped back.
“Enough of this father, I will hear no more of this in my home. I am their father, it is my decision on what they should learn, not yours. Either accept this decision or leave my house!”
Zalon looked at his son with disbelief “you dare speak to your father in such a way! What arrogance you show in ordering me forbidden to speak of my ancestors. What you ask of me is par with death.....how dare you ask me to renounce and forget my kin, or how our people fought side by side with Apollo, and how our women died in their thousands, Fighting to protect their land because all the men had been killed in battle. They were our people Tallonus, slaughtered by your employers, be it yesterday or a thousand years ago they were our family.”
Outside the room where Tallonus and his father spoke young Talon sat silently by a crack in the door listening to every word. He looked on as he saw his father close the wooden shutters on the windows and gestured for Talon’s Grandfather not to speak so loud.
“How many more times must I tell you not to mention these things, you know we would be put to the sword if anyone knew of our Zachanian bloodline.”
“I am far too old to be concerned with what threats the Empire and its soldiers threaten”
“Then be concerned for your family father, Talon is twelve years old and knows nothing of his Zachanian past, what if he mentions something to a guard by mistake?, what then of our fates?”
“Talon is ready; he is more intelligent than you give him due.”
“Father I forbid it! Do you understand that, I will not have his mind poisoned against the Empire.”
“So you would have him enter the arena without all knowledge of our ancient fighting skills, those same skills that saved both our lives on countless occasions.”
Tallonus hesitated, he did not reply until he sat down and took a deep breath “I have great plans for him.”
“What plans?” Zalon interrupted.
“Talon will not be a gladiator; he is to become a gentleman.”
Zalon suddenly rose to his feet.
“Not in a malicon years!” He shouted knowing exactly what his son meant by his comment.
“The decision is made; he will be a soldier in the Imperial guard.”
“He is Zachanian! How dare you force him to blindly betray his blood.” answered Zalon fiercely which made his son bang his hand loudly on the table.
“No! This subject is over. You will obey me on this father or you will leave.”
Both men suddenly fell into silence, both knowing and accepting the unmovable wedge that on this day had been driven between them.
“And what of his powers?” Zalon asked after the pause.
“He knows nothing of them yet.” Tallonus replied.
“But he will discover them and he will want understanding, do you think the Empire will give him the reasons as to why he is so different.”
The powers that Zalon spoke of were born into every male of Talon’s family, its origin dated centuries back in time when the Zachanian’s were slaughtered by the Empire in Zanlia. Talon’s ancestors were amongst the very few to escape the Empire’s wrath but they did not escape the merciless plague magically cast by the Empire’s wizards.
A woman from a fleeing family was heavily pregnant when she contracted the plague and died on route to the journey south. Her unborn child was cut from her dying body miraculously free from the symptoms of the plague. The child grew into a man who possessed many special powers, he could read men’s thoughts and his strength was that of an ox. Every generation of males since had been born with these strange powers.
There was no doubt that Talon and his brothers possessed them but at their young age they were not aware of them yet.
For generations fathers have passed down the stories of their Zachanian roots to their sons, it was almost canny that to truly understand the birth given powers you truly had to understand the ways and thought of a Zachanian.
Tallonus as a boy and young man was given all this knowledge. Deep down he was proud to be a Zachanian. As a young boy he would marvel at his father’s stories but as boyhood gave way to manhood he began to feel that this heritage was more a curse than a gift.
Tallonius had established himself well in the town of Tallasian, he had a privileged job teaching
the soldiers of the Imperial guard how to fight as gladiators and was respected for his worth, he wanted to bring his children up successful and law abiding, like the soldiers he had met and been impressed by. Tallonus had grown to admire the Empire but with the knowledge of his secret past he lived day to day in conflict with himself, this was the burden that he wished to spare his sons.
Zalon reached out his hand to his son’s.
“Tallonus you must tell them of their heritage.” the old man’s voice was now softer, it was almost a plea.
“And give them the same burden that I have had to carry for all these years? Every time I meet a soldier I feel fear to look him in the eye, almost in shame that I am hiding that I am Zachanian.”
“That is exactly why you must tell your sons Tallonus, this Empire has hunted our people for centuries and no matter what experiences life has dealt you my son, it is their right to know what has been passed down from father to son for all this time passed.” Zalon then paused a moment before he continued “you cannot rob them of this honour, our race died in their thousands, we cannot forget them.”
“What good will it do father! We must at some time move on; we must let this legacy die.”
Zalon swallowed deeply “then you force me to tell the boy.”
“Tell him what father? Tell a twelve year old boy that he belongs to a forbidden and hunted race. Do you think he will understand that father, your age and passion have made you foolish and dangerous?”
“Do not underrate the boy!”
“No! My mind is final this damn legacy ends!”
Zalon paced away from his son and rubbed his face “you condemn me to a fate worse than death, you ask me to bury my beliefs, MY HONOUR! You are asking me to turn my back on everything that I hold sacred and to stand idly by while my Grandson joins ranks with the sworn enemy of my kin................. This I cannot do.”
Zachania Page 3