The Warrior's Assault

by Kristen Banet

  It took months, but the guards had started using his name again. He didn’t know why, but at least someone remembered he was alive and down there. At least someone bothered to remember his name—the name of the traitor who freed the Empress’ property.

  Small victories. All I have left are small victories.

  He got up and followed the guard in silence. They moved through the pits, ignoring the Andinna now wandering around the halls. He caught a glimpse of the new mutt sitting alone on the ground in a hall. He already had a bruise over his right eye.

  Damn, he was right. They really don’t like him.

  Their eyes met, and Trevan felt the familiar grab of pity and sympathy—the very things that got him into this mess in the first place. When he was done with the Empress, he would find the mutt. They could be hated and beaten up together. No one deserved to be alone down here. It was the very thing he tried to save the Champion from. A woman by herself in this? He thought she deserved a better life, and then she met those friends…

  And I’m down here, suffering for her freedom.

  He tried to shove the thought aside as the guard led him to the Empress. He was dirty, but none of them seemed to care as he was shoved in front of her.

  “You know, I hate this game,” she started, standing up from her seat in the middle of the room. This was her receiving room in the lenasti house, where she would talk to owners of gladiators while they watched the training down below. He never saw that personally, but he knew it happened. He was always left alone there with her, with maybe a handful of guards left. “Care to tell me anything today?”

  “I have nothing to tell you,” he answered as he always did.

  “Really? What was your plan if you had gotten out with my Andinna? Where were they going to take you? What safe haven?”

  Always the same questions. Always looking for more information about the home the Andinna made in Olost. He was grateful he didn’t know anything. She could do anything to him, and he wouldn’t be able to betray the ones he saved.

  “I have nothing to say.”

  “I know the mountains in Southern Olost are their home now. I’ve heard reports my Champion is living quite the life there. She has two husbands, a house, and they’re probably planning for their obscene spring festival now.” She sighed, walking closer to him. “They left you behind, Trevan.” Her hand gently whispered over his cheek. “It’s what they do. You aren’t the first Elvasi to think you were saving something that deserved it. For all you did for them, they left you here, and now, she’s fucking whoever she wants to fuck. She’s happy, and you aren’t.”

  He closed his eyes, trying not to think about it. He couldn’t think about it. He had made his decision and was honor-bound to stand by it. He wouldn’t turn his back on his beliefs now.

  “One of them is that big male she met in the pits. My spies say they have quite the life. One you should be having, but they left you.” Her voice was like honey, motherly and loving. She was sad for him…or pretending to be. “They always leave those who aren’t one of them. Like the human. He’s still missing, but we know he didn’t leave with them. He’s being hidden. They won’t even rescue him. After all they did to save their own kind, they won't save you or him. Even after the sacrifices you made for them, you aren't one of them.”

  “What do you want?” he asked, unable to bring himself to look at her. She was right. The Champion was never coming back to rescue him. The Ivory Shadows weren’t going to waste their time on him. Stop thinking about it. Stop. Stop. Stop.

  “What do you know about their villages and settlements in Southern Olost? My spies have told me a lot, but I always love to verify my information.”

  “Nothing. I don’t know anything.” He was being honest, but even if he did know something, he wouldn’t tell her. He couldn’t betray them. He spent centuries believing the Elvasi were the bad ones. He knew the cruelty of the pits was awful, but it was because of the suffering inflicted on them. The Andinna weren’t monsters.

  He had to keep believing that.

  “I’ll try again later. You obviously haven’t come to terms with your new reality. The heart wants what the heart wants.” She brushed his face again before playing with his hair, pushing it out of his face.

  “You’re a beautiful man, Trevan. You should have worked in the palace. Noblewomen would have made you the happiest man alive.” Her voice was still honey, still caring and full of pity. He came back to motherly as the best description for her. For a moment, he wanted to lean into her hand. Physical comfort from anyone was better than none at all.

  He wasn’t expecting the slap. It made him stagger even though it wasn’t very hard. It stung, but nothing would bruise. He was shell-shocked for a moment. When he looked up at her, her face was a marble statue, her eyes emotionless.

  “And it’s all wasted on a bitch you never knew, from a race of people who would kill you if we let them.” Cold. Her words were ice. “Until next time. Maybe then you’ll come back to us and forget your ridiculous love affair with the Andinna.”

  She stormed out of the room, but not like most women would. She didn’t stomp, slam doors, or scream in frustration. There was an air of fury around her, but she was graceful, as always. She was the picture of poise and power.

  “Let’s go, slave,” a guard said once she was out of the room. Trevan didn’t react when he was grabbed roughly and pulled along. When they were back in the pits, the guard released his arm, shoving at the same time. “You’re an idiot, Trevan. You know that? We could all forgive you for a moment of weakness, but holding out and not giving the Empress what she wants? That’s suicidal.”

  “Goodnight,” he said softly, starting his long walk through the dark tunnels of the pits. Stopping at the dining hall, he looked inside. Everyone was eating dinner. Hunger wasn’t his problem, though. He was used to only eating once or twice a day now.

  He caught sight of the mutt alone, at a small table by himself. He approached quickly, keeping his head down. He wouldn’t go unnoticed, but he hoped no one was in the mood to bother him. When he arrived at the table, he saw the mutt wasn’t even eating.

  “Come with me,” he ordered quickly. The mutt jumped up and followed him out.

  “Change of heart?” Emerian seemed cautious now.

  “A little. Did you do anything to get that black eye?”

  “A little,” the male admitted. “I called one of them a cock sucking bitch with a nasty temper.”

  Trevan’s eyebrows went up as he stopped in the hall to stare at the mutt.

  “Are you mad?”

  “What did you say? We’re all mad down here?” The mutt gave a casual shrugged. “He deserved it.”

  “Well, come on. I figure if we’re both going to be shit on, we can at least be shit on together.”

  “Huh. Seriously?” Emerian frowned at him, his head tilting to the side.

  “I have a soft spot for the downtrodden,” he said quietly, looking away. “If you prove untrustworthy, I’ll kill you, but yeah, you can stick with me.”

  “Great. I fucking hate big brutes like them and was told before coming here, having an ally is important. That you need someone to watch your back.”

  “Yup.” He’d seen it for centuries. “Every gladiator has allies, groups that watch over them, and they look out for each other. Without them, you die pretty quickly.” He looked away. “Except one.”

  “I’ve heard about her. The Champion. The one who lost the war and all that. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about her. You came up a few times.”

  “I’m the one who freed her,” he explained. “A story for another time.”

  “Of course.” The male hid his shock quickly. “So, where are we going to sleep?”

  “Follow me.”

  Trevan led him through the dark. He didn’t know if he was suicidal or stupid, but he was going to give the mutt a chance. The male seemed desperate to be with him rather than the Andinna.

  He would
have hoped it would change everything, offer him some comfort in the hell he was in, but he wasn’t that stupid.

  Suicidal it is. I can’t afford to be stupid.

  12

  Mave

  Mave was antsy as she sat down for breakfast. Bryn put breakfast in front of her, leaning in for a kiss. She gave him what he wanted before rubbing her hands on her thighs, hating that they were already damp.

  “Are ya okay?” he asked softly. “Ya seem out of sorts.”

  “I’m fine,” she answered quickly. “Nervous.”

  “What’s going on?” Mat sat down across from Bryn. They had their spots at her table, and it never changed. She sat at the head of the table with Mat on her right and Bryn at her left. She’d tried to sit somewhere else once, and they’d looked at her like she was mad.

  “I have group practice today. With the spring festival in only a week, Jesvena wants us all together every day to work together. This is the first one.” She pushed her food around on her plate but found she didn’t have an appetite. It wasn’t the only thing making her nervous. The spring festival marked the beginning of the season—a season when many females would go into their rare fertile times. She decided not to broach that topic yet, even though it hung over her like a noose. “I’ve only played for Senri and Kian so far.”

  “You’ll do fine. Yesterday you seemed really confident.” He took the fork from her and put it on the table. “You aren’t normally nervous about anything.”

  “This is different. I’ve never done anything like this.” He was right, nothing ever made her this nervous. Well, asking Bryn to come home was nerve-wracking. She was beginning to notice a pattern. New things terrified her. She didn’t do well with change or new experiences after nearly a thousand years of consistency—new things like having males who were hers, and her fertility cycle—possibly coming for her.

  “Aye, but ya were saying last night ya could perform the piece without Senri helping you. You’ll do fine.” Bryn gave her an easy smile. “I believe in ya.”

  “What if I forget it while I’m there with the other females?” Even the idea of messing up in front of them made her clammy and cold. She didn’t understand her body’s reaction to it. It wasn’t life-threatening. None of them were going to kill her. Nerves over something like this had no right to put her in this state.

  “Then you’ll drop out for a moment, find the new place, and continue,” Mat said, holding her hand. “Happens every year. Someone gets caught up in the excitement and has to stop playing for a moment. No one judges. Spring festival is an experience.”

  “Are you two going to do anything for it?” she asked. “Well, before I’m done performing? If I’m allowed to.”

  “I dance every year, and this year isn’t any different.” Mat gave her an arrogant smirk. “If you aren’t able to play, no one would blame you.”

  “Mat has a reputation as one of the best dancers in the village,” Bryn explained. “I don’t dance, so don’t ask. I’ll drink myself close to a stupor, then meet you in our bedroom.” His smile was predatory. “After Mat gets you worked up, I have a feeling it’s going to be a wonderful night.”

  “I haven’t even seen anyone dance yet.” She didn’t know what she was supposed to be looking forward to.

  “Oh, that’s even better,” Mat said, chuckling. “If you want someone to show you, I learned from Kian after the War. Before the War, I was terrible. He would probably give you a show.”

  “Should clear it with Senri before ya ask him, though. It’s not a dance meant for children,” Bryn added quickly. “Better yet, why don’t ya just wait for the surprise during the festival? I don’t want other males dancin’ for ya.”

  “Good point,” Mat agreed, nodding. “Wait. Be surprised. Enjoy it. There’s never a spring festival like your first one. Go to practice today and remember, this isn’t the end of the world. It’s supposed to be fun.”

  “Fine.” She dropped her napkin on the table. “I’m going to go. Might as well get there and practice a little beforehand.”

  “Ya didn’t eat yet!” Bryn pointed at her plate.

  When her stomach flipped as she looked down at the food, she gave him a weak smile.

  “I’ll eat at lunch when it’s over. My stomach should be settled by then.” She walked away, making it to the entry hallway, but something kept her from putting on her boots and leaving—an important discussion she was avoiding. With spring only a week away, she knew it had to be talked about—fertility cycles and children. They were both eating as she stood there, unable to keep walking. She turned back and stared at her males. What would they do if she just blurted it out before leaving? She wasn’t sure how else to get it out.

  Mat looked up and realized she wasn’t moving.

  “Are you okay? Don’t tell me you have that much stage fright.”

  “Spring is coming,” she whispered. “I don’t want children.”

  He dropped his fork, and Bryn started coughing. She worried for a moment he was choking, but he turned to look at her. His face was pink, but he didn’t look like he was choking. That was a good thing.

  “Where did that come from?” Mat asked, standing up slowly.

  “Practice isn’t the only thing I’m worried about,” she admitted. “Spring is…the time for that…” She mashed her hands together, trying to get the words out. “Zayden said it’s really important, and there’s only a week left for us to talk about it, and having this practice today reminded me how close that possibility is.”

  “Ya don’t want kids. It’s fine. There’s lots of time.” Bryn didn’t stand up, pushing his chair so he was looking at her. “Ya really that nervous about yer fertility cycle? It probably won’t even come.”

  “I’ve only had one. He said I was probably due.” She swallowed. “I just wanted to make sure it was said. I don’t want children. I don’t want…”

  I don’t want to be near either of you when it happens.

  “In the village, a female who doesn’t want young should go to another female. The word will spread quickly. The males of her mayara are put to work, normally very physical labor to keep them busy. Senri creates a watch of every able female in the village, to keep all males away from the one who’s vulnerable. There’s a hidden home where females go when it comes, and no males know how to find it. If we’re caught looking for it, there are consequences, and the location is changed.” Mat sighed. “Mave, nothing bad is going to happen. We’ve had generations to figure this out.”

  “Okay. Good. Thank you.” She grabbed her boots. “I just wanted to get that out in the open.”

  “It’s fine. Don’t be so nervous. Bryn and I figured you didn’t want any, but we thought you talked to Senri about it more.”

  “No…I haven’t told her anything about my fertility.”

  “Maybe you should,” he said kindly, finally close enough to kiss her. She leaned into him, her nerves relaxing under his touch. “Enjoy your day. We have one more overnight patrol, then we’re in the clear. No more of that for us.”

  “Good.” She smiled against his lips. When he released her, Bryn was suddenly there and kissed her as well. “Be safe.”

  “Always. Can’t risk losin’ the chance to come home to ya.” Bryn pushed her gently. “Now, put your boots on and get out of here. Stop worryin’ about everythin’.”

  “I’m going!” She did as he asked, pulling her boots on. She fastened her sword belt around her waist and grabbed her flute from a small shelf by the door. It kept it from getting lost somewhere in the house.

  She moved fast across the village, once she was outside and away from her doting males. The snow wasn’t beautiful anymore, something she found disappointing. It was starting to warm up, and the mud was turning everything brown. There were only patches of snow left, anyway. Spring was edging its way in, and winter was giving up its strangling grip on the world. She didn’t like it. If winter was her favorite season, spring was probably going to be her least favorite.
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  When she arrived at the dining hall, it was closed like it had been the morning she found out about this entire affair. She pulled the door open and walked in, feeling the heat blast her in the face.

  “Ah, we have someone early!” Jesvena said, her back to Mave. When the old female turned, she gave an audible gasp. “Mave. I wasn’t…”

  “Good morning, Jesvena,” she greeted the mativa politely. “You weren’t expecting me. Am I right?”

  “You are…” Her head tilted to the side in a considering look. “I don’t see you carrying drums. You picked the flute?”

  “I did.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence as they stared at each other. Mave knew she was being judged. Whether it was good or bad, she didn’t know. After another moment, she grew annoyed.

  “You don’t like me,” she accused softly.

  “It’s not that.” Jesvena shook her head slowly. “I don’t know you. You showed up with your reputation on your heels and proceeded to upset the delicate balance of our culture. It’s left me confused about how to handle the situation.”

  “You stood there and expected me to fall in line when I didn’t know you. What did you expect to happen, really?” She frowned, trying to figure out how this was just her fault.

  “I expected normalcy—a female who understood what was at stake. You upset the balance of power in our community. It’s why the others avoid you. They don’t know where you really stand.” The old female sighed. “Sit down and talk with me, Mave. It’s past time, and you’re much earlier than I expected anyone. Are you always up at this time?”

  “I am. I’ve never been one to sleep in. It wasn’t tolerated in the pits, and even now, I can’t get used to the idea of it.” She followed the mativa to a set of low cushions and sat across a small table from her.

  “The pits. They really shaped you, didn’t they? Explain them to me. I’ve only heard whispers. I don’t speak much to members of the Company, and there are no other Andinna here with a history in that place.”

  Mave swallowed, remembering.