The Warrior Race Trilogy BoxSet

by T. C. Edge

  They'd rush on, assaulted by more sell-swords along the way, and reaching the cordon of Neorome soldiers would find only a further force of enemies. Under such an attack, even Ares would surely find it impossible to protect Vesper. She'd be cut down, and up in the gallery, awaiting the start of the games, Pontius would be executed too.

  There, in front of the masses of Neorome, the evil that had plagued the city would be snuffed out. The games would be abandoned, and Dom and Lucius would assume control, taking charge of the Imperial Guard and ordering for them to be withdrawn from Southside with immediate effect.

  It was a simple plan, and required perfect execution.

  It needed to go without a hitch.

  The murmur in the crowd was joined by a wave of movement. Dom's gaze spread now towards the distance, where the plaza was visible, surrounded by its wall of columns and pillars and ever protected by the Imperial Guard. At its end, the Royal Palace stood tall, rising up upon the hill and looking out over the city in all directions.

  So high were its loftiest quarters and balconies that you could even see right into the Colosseum from certain points, able to catch glimpse of one portion of the sand. As a young boy, on days in which he didn't attend the games himself, Dom would often sneak to the highest places he could find to try to see the action. He loved it all, every tradition and custom, all the stories of the great warriors and their feats. And for a long time after, as he became intimately entwined in the games himself, he continued to love the pomp and ceremony, the role he assumed in travelling the world in search of great warriors, capturing them like he was hunting wild game, and bringing them to the city to do battle for the pleasure of the crowd. And his mother.

  Now, standing there in the arena, he imagined that it was for the last time. He wouldn't witness another fight. After this day was done, and his own battle won, he'd shut the doors of this great structure, lock them up tight. He'd recommission it as a theatre of the arts, for plays and music to be seen and heard, for people to dance and sing and drink and be joyous, without needing blood to wet the whistle.

  Out now at the exit from the plaza, a distinct carriage was coming. The people had begun to see it, turning to look as it started winding its way along the streets, flanked as always by a force of two dozen Imperial Guards, mounted on fine, powerful steeds and surrounding the carriage on its journey.

  Dom's heart quickened at the sight, and felt his hands begin to quiver with anticipation. He set his fidgety fingers onto the stone windowsill, surveying the scene below. His gaze turned again to where he knew his mercenaries to be, down along the right flank as he looked. And on the left, Lucius' sell-swords waited, hidden amid the roiling masses as they waited to strike.

  The security flanking Vesper's carriage was just as Dom had anticipated. Two dozen Imperial Guards, some of the finest warriors in the realm, would be a match for a far greater force of gifted men. And thus superior numbers had been required, with several times as many mercenaries under Dom and Lucius' command. And below, almost directly beneath where Dom stood, the dozens of soldiers protecting the entrance would add their ballast to the fray when the time came.

  Dom felt confident that they had enough. This was their one and only chance now, an all or nothing attempt. His eyes didn't dare blink as he followed the carriage as it came, rolling gently through the cheering crowd, half of them still doing their dutiful best to give the Empress a good welcome, the rest cheering merely because her arrival meant the start of the day's two wonderful events.

  They knew better, however, than to get too near to the mounted guards ushering the carriage along. Any foolish man or woman who ventured too close got a stiff and sudden prod with the blunt end of a spear, pressing them right back into the thick throng, winded at best and with a series of broken ribs at worst.

  It was the luck of the draw and the risk of getting to the front of the crowd to get a closer look. Those who stepped beyond the permitted boundary, encroaching on the carriage's territory, didn't do so willingly. They were merely pushed their by the jostling, heaving crowd, paying for their position at the front by being swiftly dealt with by one of the Empress' many loyal defenders.

  The carriage rolled along, on and on, and Dom's heart raced faster. At any minute now, they'd be crossing the 'start line' as the plan devised, the point where the nearest possible safe route would take the carriage right for the arena's entrance, and the waiting force of guards, as yet unaware that they were playing a part in their Empress' assassination.

  As with so many people in this city, they were pawns in a larger game. Dom felt a measure of guilt for having to include them, but it was a necessary measure for the greater good. It was certainly possible that a number of innocent bystanders below would be caught in the mayhem as well. It was collateral damage, as Claudius said, so callous in his logic and reasoning. In order for the masses to prosper, some innocent blood must be spilt. It was a sacrifice all leaders must make, and one Dom was finding increasingly difficult to stomach.

  Today will be the last of it, he thought to himself, watching from above and protected from the coming onslaught.

  He felt guilt in that too, viewing from his high perch and so heartlessly gazing upon the upcoming killing. Yet the irony was that he felt no such doubts about witnessing the execution of his own mother. As he saw it, she was possessed by a demon, one who'd taken command of her body and mind.

  Killing her was freeing her.

  It was mercy.

  The crowd continued to watch the carriage, its doors more secure than Dom's. Unlike his, which had little more than curtains covering the exit on each side, Vesper's was larger, sturdier, and understandably more robust. The doors were solid, though had windows to look through. Dom could just about make them out now, covered in little blinds so that his mother was fully hidden from show as the coach rolled on.

  Along the right flank, a change began to occur. Though the crowd were bobbing and weaving and trying to get a good look, several little groups were moving forward more aggressively. Dom scanned the motion and knew they must be his men. He hadn't dealt with them personally, of course, but by their shape and size, and the hint of concealed weapons beneath their cloaks, he knew they were his.

  They were moving, cutting a path through the crowd, and on the other side on the left of the street, the same was happening. From his high vantage, Dom had a unique view of it all, spotting the many little groups of assassins closing in from all sides, hands slipping beneath their robes to fetch up swords and daggers and knives to be thrown.

  Dom's breathing turned shallow, the countdown on. In moments only, the first wave of attacks would come. The entire square below would break out into pandemonium. People would rush and scream and blood would quickly follow.

  Then, off to his immediate right, Dom heard a pattering coming down the stone corridor. He ignored it at first, not wishing to move his eyes from the action below, but the footsteps grew louder, and were soon joined by a voice.

  He turned now and saw that it was Claudius, never one to rush unless in dire need. His eyes were crafted into a shape of concern. He stepped right towards Dom, his breath coming out at a pant.

  "Master Domitian," he said, hurrying forwards. "The attack...you have to call it off..."

  Dom now gave his man his full attention. He held his shoulders as the old Savant reached him, steadying his gaze.

  "Calm your breath, Claud. What on earth's the matter?!"

  Claudius shook his head.

  "News, sir, from the palace. It's Julia, your mother's surrogate. She's giving birth, sir. And Vesper's staying with her..."

  Dom's eyes flared.

  "You mean..."

  "She's not in the carriage, sir!" clattered Claud's voice. "You must call off the..."

  His words were cut through by a shriek, followed by dozens more, then hundreds. Then a stampede of feet and cries rang out, and Dom's eyes fell to the world below.

  The mercenaries had begun their attack.
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  Dom watched on in horror as the mercenaries engaged the Imperial Guards in combat.

  Such was the surprise of the attack that several of them were caught unawares, quickly overcome as the dozens of blades and hidden weapons sprung from the darkness and hunted them down.

  Several others rose up on their steeds and fought back from atop them. Some even leapt to the floor, preferring to fight from the ground.

  It was hard for Dom to perceive it all with only two eyes to help. The crowd were in a state of confusion, trying to rush for cover and often running in the way. The mercenaries were all enhanced, quick, and brutal in their work. They were chosen for that very reason, and had little caring for destroying whatever got in their way.

  Dom could do nothing but gaze as the battle spread from the carriage, which stopped momentarily in place and didn't move. He looked at the barred doors and wondered just why it had come if Vesper wasn't there. Why the normal cohort of guards? Why the masquerade?

  And then he realised that perhaps it was just a trap. Perhaps Vesper had heard something of a possible strike and chose to stay in the safety of the palace. Perhaps Julia wasn't giving birth at all, and Vesper had merely lured in her attackers, using her carriage as bait.

  Dom turned to Claudius, who was watching the action unfolding below with a rare show of alarm.

  "How did you hear?!" Dom roared. "About Julia giving birth. Who told you?!"

  Claud's eyes swerved for Dom's.

  "I heard it from the gallery, sir. They're talking about it openly."

  "They know? I didn't think she'd told them."

  "I think word has just slipped out now," said Claudius. "Perhaps others knew and couldn't keep the news to themselves..."

  A loud clanging of metal sounded below, and Dom's eyes moved straight back down to the carnage. The crowd had quickly dispersed like a bait ball of fish assaulted by a pack of ravenous sharks. The mercenaries and Imperial Guards were engaged in combat, spreading out across the square. Already, a number of bodies were lying bloodied and cleaved, the trickle of red blood oozing and shining under the morning sun.

  The loud bashing of metal, however, was centred around the carriage itself. With the Imperial Guards distracted and engaged, a group of mercenaries were working to smash through the doors and get to the Empress they believed to be inside. Using axes and maces and heavy batons, they were attempting to infiltrate and destroy.

  But all Dom could think of was, Why is it still there? Why is it stationary?

  Then it dawned on him - because it's empty.

  There was no one inside that needed saving, or escorting elsewhere. The mercenaries would break down the doors only to find an empty space awaiting them.

  As the thought ran through Dom's mind, however, so the opposite proved true. With a sudden crash, the doors to the carriage flung open from inside, sending several mercenaries spiralling off through the air and landing in piles of broken bones and shattered spines.

  A light seemed to flash, and from the darkness, a figure stepped out, tall and broad and draped in magnificent silver armour.

  Dom gasped at the sight.

  Ares.

  With a look of fury upon his fearsome face, the greatest gladiator ever to grace the sand, the head of the Imperial Guard, the finest warrior in all the known world, did what he was born to do. As the mercenaries saw him and shuddered, drawing back, he let out a bellow and surged into the fray, like lightning from a stormy sky.

  He drew his great sword, the taker of so many lives, and proceeded to take several more in the blink of an eye. Moving at a speed the men couldn't fathom, and slicing with his blade too quick for them to see, he had half a dozen mercenaries cleaved and cut down before Dom had a chance to draw a breath. Heads rolled out over the cobbles. Severed limbs twitched freakishly before going still. Torsos of large men were sliced in two with a flick and little more.

  Ares was a man to inspire fear and wonder in equal measure. Some mercenaries, upon seeing him, were so taken by terror as to forget their mission and rush away, speeding off out of the square. His own Imperial Guard, on the other hand, drew strength from his appearance, fighting off the remaining sell-swords with a fresh vigour and intensity as Ares himself went from group to group, appearing and disappearing only to take further life.

  Dom stared, unable to move, struck dumb by what he was seeing. Ares had long been his hero upon the sand, and here he was, witnessing him fighting once more.

  Only this time, it was against him.

  And as Ares went about his work, he suddenly stopped, right in the middle of the square, and turned his eyes up at Dom. He looked directly at him, and Dom was sure, even though he was quite far away, that he was lightly shaking his head.

  He knows, thought Dom. He knows full well this was me.

  Yet the prince could do little more than stand and watch, the crowd still fleeing from the central conflict as the braver souls among them gathered further back to watch from safe vantages. And though the sight of rebels in the city centre, attacking the Empress' carriage, was a shocking one to see, the image of the great Ares, swiftly working to destroy the insurgents, was a treat for those who labelled him their hero.

  Dom was one, but this was no treat. Seeing the celebrated gladiator do his work beyond the confines of the arena would have been pure joy in other circumstances. But not these. Here, now, his final attempt at taking his mother's life had ended with a whimper, before it had even started. He'd laid it on the line, and she hadn't even come.

  It's over, he thought to himself. It's all over.

  The remaining mercenaries who'd stayed to fight were swiftly overwhelmed. Many fled, the rest cut down as Ares drew up the full extent of his might and inspired the rest of his men to a swift and resounding victory. Even some of the guards over by the entrance to the arena, those with secret orders to attack, rushed out and joined in. Their hidden directive would never activate. Vesper had never come.

  As it all happened below, so Dom's mind began to figure what to do next. The crowd had started to settle, the few caught in the crossfire quickly tended by medics, and the rest standing back in a state of utter bewilderment at what they'd seen. Yet within the arena, half of the audience had gathered already in preparation for Vesper's arrival. They were expecting to see two semi finals.

  Would they get them?

  Dom's thoughts went straight for Kira, down in the dungeons below.

  He turned quickly to Claudius, still by his side.

  "You need to get back to the ludus," he said quickly. "Go, now, before you get caught up in all this. My mother will know it's me. She won't let me leave here."

  "But, sir. If that's true, you must come too."

  "No, Claud. If I go, the Imperial Guard will come marching into the ludus and no one in the household will be safe. Get back there, and prepare for a code red. You need to be ready to lead my people from the city."

  Claudius stiffened. He knew what a code red was. Contingencies had been considered, given the risks Dom was taking. A code red simply meant evacuating the household through the escape tunnel, saving as many of them as possible before the Imperial Guard came calling. If Dom were to leave now, they'd come right after him.

  No, he had to stay and face the music.

  "And what about you, Master Domitian," said Claudius, turning his eyes down below. Already, the guards were beginning to enter into the arena, sent by Ares to seek Dom out.

  "I'll stay and keep the spotlight on me. This is my mess, Claud. I have to be the one to clean it up."

  "But, you won't clean it up! You'll be hanged for this, sir."

  "That was always a risk, old friend." He smiled and set his hand to Claudius' shoulder. "Now go, secure the ludus. Take my guards and set a double watch on the gate. You know what to do."

  With that, Dom turned swiftly on his heels, and began rushing straight down to the dungeons. A single directive now entered his mind, that of helping Kira from this place. If he was
to be taken, he'd make sure that he'd at least give her a chance.

  He hurried along, working down the stairs and making straight for the dusty corridors and passages beneath the great stadium. He knew Lucius was up in the royal gallery at that moment, right alongside his father, their own part in this concealed. The eye of suspicion would fall on Dom, and he'd accept it all for himself. There was no sense in Lucius getting caught up in things too. At least, Dom mused, his friend could finish what he started. If Pontius managed to overthrow Vesper, Lucius could do the same with his father.

  It was a small silver lining, but something to cling to. And now he sought another, as he arrived along the bank of cells where he'd deposited Kira a little earlier, and ran right down to where she hid.

  He found two guards outside, as there always were, as yet unaware of the problems above. Immediately, Dom calmed his step, looked upon them both, and drew their eyes. He slipped straight into their heads and ordered for them to open the cell doors. One did without questioning. Then, upon command, they were banished, wandering away up the passage and out of sight.

  Dom stepped right into the cell, and laid his eyes upon Kira. Hers were shut, her hand set to the stone. She opened them as Dom entered.

  "The plan failed, didn't it," she said.

  Dom moved straight towards her.

  "I have to get you out," he said quickly, taking her arm.

  She pulled it away, shutting her eyes again. Drawing a long breath, she began shaking her head.

  "There are too many guards," she said. "All exits to the stadium are blocked. It's too late, Dom. What happened?" She opened her eyes, shining green in the gloom, her voice soft and innocent as a child.

  "Julia," grunted Dom. "My mother's surrogate is giving birth, and she wasn't there. But she must have known. It was a set up. She knows it's me. It's...it's over, Kira."