The Warrior Race Trilogy BoxSet

by T. C. Edge

  And here, in this house, was a single light, drawing him upstairs.

  A single light...a single lure.

  His eyes narrowed, and went straight for the guard by the door.

  "We have to get out of here, right now!" he said.

  The guard had little time to react other than to display his confusion. From downstairs, a sudden punch of noise worked through the house, followed quickly by another. Dom hurried for the doorway where his guard stood. The other who'd accompanied him into the house was rushing down the hallway towards them. He stopped upon the landing at the top of the stairs, and just as he turned to look down, a bullet rushed from below and slipped straight through his head.

  He fell, crumpling into a heap ahead. Dom felt the guard by his side push him immediately back. He tumbled to the floor with the force of the blow, and the guard moved straight forward, pulling a rifle from beneath his cloak.

  "Stay down!" he growled as he passed the threshold and moved along the wall, glancing down the stairs. He pulled back immediately and looked at Dom. All Dom could do was see the hopelessness in his face before the wall he hid behind was shattered and torn apart, consumed by a cloud of flame.

  The explosion ripped through the landing, pushing Dom off his feet once more. He went flying to the back of the room, his side connecting with a dresser and cracking through wood. A flow of thick black smoke followed, chasing him down and blinding him. He coughed, his lungs filling with smog and eyes stinging as the flow of hot air buffeted him from the darkness.

  He clambered to his feet, unable to see, his ears ringing loudly from the blast. Then footsteps came, an avalanche of them, heavy boots stamping his way. He looked about in vain. There was nowhere to go, nothing to do.

  A figure loomed, others behind. An entire unit of men appearing through the fog. Dom looked up, his eyes blurred, unable to draw in any detail. A shape rushed for his head, the butt of a rifle. It connected hard against his skull, and the blur became blackness as his body collapsed to the floor.

  93

  The energy within the safe house had changed.

  The lethargy and uselessness felt by its occupants, particularly those of youthful years, had gone. And the fearful nature of the old man who imagined himself in charge was also absent, partially at least, replaced by an impulsive desire to scratch an itch that had been unattended for far too long.

  It was Saturday, and nearing night, and as the city celebrated the restart of the games and the victories of Malvo and Steelhide, Merk, Finn, and Gwyn were locked in conversation, hastily forming a plan.

  Though, in truth, plan perhaps wasn't an appropriate word. That would indicate some detail in the proposal, a clear idea of what Merk was hoping to achieve and how. In reality, the end goal was rather vague, and the getting there was too. It was less a plan and more a punt, a wild and rather reckless move that was so incredibly unlike the sort of thing Merk would do.

  The problem was, he'd mentioned it to the others now. And knowing how useless they'd been feeling, and how they wanted to do anything they could to help, however unlikely, they'd taken the concept and run.

  It was now firmly out of Merk's wrinkled old hands.

  "Right, so we leave tonight then," said Finn, pacing. He hadn't been so animated since he'd arrived upon these shores. "How far are these woods, Merk?"

  "About thirty miles away on their eastern side. But the forest is quite large. It's a big place."

  "How big?" asked Gwyn. She was pacing too, going the other way as Finn. The two were bouncing off the walls and crossing paths in the middle. It was growing quite disorientating.

  "Would you mind sitting down. One of you at least?" moaned Merk.

  The two gladiators looked at each other. It seemed neither wished to drop off their feet, though Finn acquiesced after a brief impasse.

  "So," continued Gwyn, resuming her march, "how big is the forest?"

  Merk shrugged, trying to think. He hadn't been there in years, decades. And his time within the woods as a bandit hadn't ever involved an exact topographical knowledge of the area, or its specific parameters.

  "Er, well it stretches about twenty miles from east to west. And, let me think. Um, maybe the same...ish...north to south."

  "OK, nice and exact there, Merk. Great," said Gwyn. She lifted a wry smile to tell him she was kidding.

  "So about four hundred square miles," cut in Finn. "Well, that should take no time at all to search." Sarcasm wasn't his strong suit. It just came off as being rather blunt and rude.

  "I wish I'd never mentioned it," sighed Merk. "It was just intended to get you two out of your stupor. If you think it's that ridiculous, we won't bother..."

  "No, don't be silly, Merk. We want to do this, right Finn?" asked Gwyn, nodding her head at the boy.

  Finn nodded too.

  "Definitely," he said. "You said it yourself. We can use the motorbikes in the garage, and sneak off into the hills without anyone seeing us. If we leave tonight, nice and late, we can be there for dawn and start searching. Gwyn can use her powers to help track this guy, if he's there..."

  "He's probably not," said Merk, shaking his head. Their excitement and enthusiasm called for some constriction on his part. He'd opened a can of worms here and was starting to regret it. "I already told you. Last anyone's heard of Polus was decades ago. He's probably dead, or miles away across the world. This is just a silly theory of mine..."

  "Yeah, and one you were right behind an hour ago," countered Finn. "I get what's going on, Merk. You're doubting yourself now, after what you've told us. But what's the risk, that's the real question? I mean, we can sneak out silently without being seen, and as you've made clear, we're likely to be here for some time, so no one's going to miss us."

  "Yeah, exactly," said Gwyn. "We're just sitting here doing nothing. Why not have a go? It's an adventure, right? And if we don't find anyone out there, so what? At least we'll have tried. And this guy, if he is there. Well...maybe he can help, right? If he's that powerful and everything."

  "He was," mumbled Merk. "I just...I don't want anyone getting their hopes up. I'd had a few drinks last night when I thought this up, and it's as long a shot as you can imagine. So just keep your expectations low. If we do this, that is."

  "Merk," said Finn firmly, "we are doing this. And, what expectations? I'm just keen on taking a stroll in these 'haunted' woods, right Gwyn? That's all this is. A nice little escape from this claustrophobic, dusty old house. I just want some fresh air."

  "Damn right," smiled Gwyn. "A little ride to the country, nice and secret. That's all."

  "And...you won't try to escape will you?" asked Merk, eyeing them both. "This isn't some trap to get out of here."

  Finn and Gwyn exchanged a look, and then started laughing.

  "Merk, if we wanted to escape, we'd just walk out of here," giggled Gwyn.

  "Exactly," added Finn. "And why the hell would we do that anyway? It's not like we have any idea of these lands, or how to get to a boat to get home. You know we want to help Kira. That's what this is about."

  "But...but...that's not to say we're going to find anyone out there who can, you know, help Kira," added Gwyn quickly. Finn nodded his agreement. "So, no pressure Merk. You came up with the idea, so lets get behind it. Yeah?"

  Merk really didn't like himself much. Really, what sort of man would bring up an idea, only to pour water on the fire as soon as it started to rage. The old Merk certainly wouldn't have. He'd have put all his weight behind it with full conviction. How weak had he become to pull back with such speed? To enthuse these two, and then try to deny them?

  It was poor form, and he knew it. It was time for him to confirm his position.

  He did so by reaching out for a bottle of wine, pouring three small glasses, and handing them out. The two young gladiators were grinning before he even spoke, though let him work in silence.

  He raised his glass, and the others followed.

  "OK, you're both right," he said, looking to
each of them. "There's no harm in trying, and it's worth a go. Let's drink to that, shall we? Though...just a sip. We need to stay clear headed."

  Their cups joined and clinked, before being drawn to their lips. All three took a swig, and the bond was set.

  It was a number of hours later that the three huddled in the garage, ducking cobwebs and chasing away spiders. The last few minutes had been taken testing the motorbikes to make sure they still worked, and filling their tanks with fuel too. Preceding that, they'd got a bit of sleep - though each were too excited, or in Merk's case, nervous, to sleep properly - and had packed a few rations of food for the trip.

  They had some water too, gathered into portable flasks, as well as additional fuel should it be needed. The bikes, thankfully, all appeared to be in working order, and their engines were quiet enough to go unheard from those sleeping in nearby houses. They chugged along gently as Merk did his final checks, before stepping towards the mechanism to open up the garage door.

  He hesitated and looked back.

  "OK, you ready?" he asked.

  The others nodded.

  Then he realised that they weren't wearing helmets. A few minutes later he'd discovered some within a box and all were fully protected.

  He returned to the door, unable to delay further, and clicked the button. The door coughed and growled, chains grinding as it drew up. The sound was horribly loud in the silence, though probably only seemed like that to Merk. The others didn't appear worried at all.

  Fetching the little remote to ensure they could get back inside, Merk stepped upon his bike, his fingers coiling around the handlebars. The feeling brought back a flow of memories from his younger years. His tenure as a bandit out in those woods had involved the use of such machines. It seemed quite appropriate that he was returning upon one, so many years later.

  Leading the way, the little convoy rolled out through the gate and towards a darkened and enclosed path. Merk had instructed the others on how to use the bikes, both of them having no experience with such things. It would likely take them a little while to get the hang of it. So it turned out when Gwyn was a little too friendly with the accelerator, her bike lurching forwards before spinning and sliding to the floor with a crash.

  She was immediately back on her feet, apologising for the racket. It told Merk one thing, however - it would be best to walk the bikes out until they got their bearings.

  His suggestion wasn't debated or questioned. All three riders stepped from their bikes, shut down their engines, and determined to walk alongside them as they rolled them up the path. As yet, none had been outside of the house, and thus weren't entirely sure where the pathway led. All Merk had to go on were his instincts, the views from the windows looking west, and his faith that Master Domitian would have devised a way to escape the safe house without being seen.

  As it turned out, his faith was rewarded. The pathway remained enclosed as they went, walls concealing them on either side and covered in natural vegetation. It went up on a slight gradient, turning from concrete to moss and grass before finally levelling out at ground level as the walls began to recede and the exit appear.

  They crept on until they finally emerged beyond the westernmost extremities of the city, the little route out of the safe house covering a hundred or so metres and ending in a concealed exit, hidden within a thicket of bushes and trees. The trio had to press through the tangled branches and tickling leaves, eventually reaching a field exposed to the beautiful, starry sky.

  They looked up, and back, and noted that the far edge of Neorome was bathed in darkness. This wasn't the centre, with its perpetual light, or the South with its tight streets and dense populous. No. Out here, the world was sparse, houses only dotted here and there and set within wide gardens. Not a light could be seen at this hour among the suburb, and at such a distance, only Gwyn, with her enhanced vision, could possibly tell of the glow further away to the city centre.

  "OK, that was easy enough," smiled Finn. "Can we start our engines yet?"

  Merk shook his head, cautious as always.

  "Best walk on another hundred metres to make sure. We can't be too careful."

  The gladiators looked at each other, eyebrows raised and wry smiles lifting.

  "OK, old man," said Gwyn. "Lead the way."

  They walked on, the wheels of the bikes rustling over leaves and their feet crunching with each step. It took them a few moments for their eyes to adjust to their new surroundings, the sky above bright and lit with a vast and endless tapestry of stars. Within moments only, their eyes were taking in the shapes of thickets ahead, and the formation of the lands as they rolled and undulated.

  For Finn and Merk, the dark shapes were the best they'd do, their eyes capable of only rendering simple features under the cover of night. For Gwyn, the world was as lit by daylight, every detail observable in all directions. She would be a valuable asset, able to spot movement from all angles and from quite a distance too. All good missions like this needed a good lookout. And they had a good one in Gwyn.

  They trundled on slowly, Merk's prudence denying them the use of their bikes until they'd covered another couple of hundred metres, passed over the crest of a hill, and entered into a second thicket of thinly dispersed trees.

  "Right, I guess we can start up now," he said.

  Finn let out a sigh that he'd been holding for some time. He quickly jumped upon his bike, showing his youthful exuberance, and kicked it into life. His talents were, apparently, a little better than Gwyn's. Before the others could even get started, he was rumbling away, circling through the trees, and rushing back as he pulled to a quick stop in front of them.

  "Pffft, nothing to it," he said, smiling wide.

  Gwyn turned her nose up and huffed, drawing a laugh from Finn's gut as her second attempt to get started resulted, again, in an unpleasant meeting of face and dirt. Her bike swept up this time, the front lifting as she accelerated too quickly, sending machine and driver alike toppling into the mud.

  Finn's laughter was, perhaps, more raucous than it should have been. A death-stare from Gwyn shut him up, as did the hissed warning from Merk to 'keep it down'.

  The old man then made sure to offer a little more coaching to ensure Gwyn's third attempt was successful. It wasn't. Several minutes, and attempts, later, however, they were on their way.

  "Seventh-time lucky, huh Gwyn," sniggered Finn.

  He sped off before she could retaliate.

  Despite the slight hiccups, the journey began in auspicious fashion. Keeping off any of the tracks leading away from town, and certainly avoiding the major roads, Merk led them on a slightly roundabout route, remembering well just where they were after all these years.

  Occasionally, that memory failed him - though he blamed it on the dark - and he had to stop for a moment to get his bearings, sometimes using Gwyn's night-vision to help him in the task. Mostly, however, his general sense of direction held up, and though the going remained slow, it was necessarily so due to the off-road nature of the journey.

  He was about right in saying it was thirty miles to the western edge of the forest, but that was as the crow flies. Their journey most likely doubled that distance at least, and the snail's pace meant that the light was already coming up before they spotted the trees.

  In that regard, there were false dawns. The landscapes immediately to the west of Neorome were cluttered with little woods and groves that resided within the comfy nooks between hillocks and mounds. Other expanses were more open, but it was through these passes that Merk led his intrepid young explorers. The risks of running into other communities and towns were limited or entirely withdrawn, but the route was longer, and by the time the true edge of their intended forest appeared on the horizon, the sun was already clawing its way upon the edges of the earth.

  They stopped on the plains as they rolled up to the summit of a hill, and down in the valley the wide expanse of woodland spread. Over chugging engines Finn asked, "So, this one's it this time
?"

  Merk smiled as he saw the trees, once so familiar to him. Untouched and unspoiled, the people still didn't dare come here. He had to laugh. The legends he'd helped create still held strong, the peoples' ridiculous superstitions so easy to manipulate.

  "So...we're here then?" asked Finn again, eager to get on with things.

  Merk looked at him and nodded.

  And before he could say, "We're here," Finn's bike was hurtling for the trees.

  94

  Sleep was hard to come by for Kira.

  Her mind wouldn't settle, her nerves strung up like all those hanging heretics around the city. She'd seen Dom leave for the arena that morning, and she hadn't seen him return.

  The hours had passed so slowly she thought they'd got stuck. Her stomach had formed into a ball of knotted flesh, and she could do nothing to cough it up.

  It was Sunday morning now, and Dom still wasn't back. She'd been assured by both Claudius and Silia that he'd return sometime during the night, and that she needed to get some rest before her fight later that afternoon. She'd tried, of course, but to no avail. Her mind wandered endlessly, refusing to let her sleep. And now the lights were up, and the news was grave.

  "It appears as though he may have been kidnapped."

  It was Claudius who told her that, and Claudius who had to bear the brunt of Kira's ire. She stepped up to him, eyes like green flame, teeth bared like a feral beast.

  "What do you mean, he's been kidnapped!" she snapped. "It was you who gave him the address!"

  Claudius' flat demeanour was well set for this exchange. He didn't withdraw or quiver, but held his ground and held his expression too.

  "That is true," he said calmly. "I passed on the information I was given, nothing more. All I know is that our guards have gone to the address and found it half destroyed, with four of Master Domitian's men dead. The Prince, however, is nowhere to be seen. I can only conclude, as I told you, that he's been taken."