by Tanya Bird
‘Get the swords!’ she shouted at Albaus, knowing he was the only one who stood a chance at reaching them.
He darted around the closing door and dove into the sand, grabbing the closest sword. The crowd drew a collective breath and Vita screamed behind her as the animal flattened itself against the sand before pouncing at Mila. She rolled forwards, tucking her body tightly and tumbling beneath the animal. It landed where she had just stood, immediately swinging around, searching for her. Mila was already on her feet, just a few paces from a sword, when she heard the leopard behind her. One more stride and razor claws would take her down. She dove for the weapon at the same time the leopard’s feet left the ground. Her fingers brushed the hilt of the sword, unable to grasp it.
Albaus threw his weapon over her head, piercing the cat through the chest. A pained growl rippled across the sand. Mila rolled out of the way just as the animal landed with a thud next to her. Its wide eyes stared into hers as life drained away. It pawed feebly at the sand before going still. Without pausing to process the horror, she reached for the sword and tore it from the animal’s chest before getting to her feet. The crowd cheered then, as though they had forgotten she was there to die.
As long as the people were entertained.
Her eyes went to the other end of the arena, to the open gate, then along the perimeter where a tiger stalked, watching Vita and Tacita as they huddled together—like bait. Mila snatched up the second sword and took off at a run towards them, checking to ensure Albaus had the other weapons. He did. They would die eventually, every one of them, but she would fight while there was life inside of her. Remus would never forgive her if she gave up.
As the pair reached the women, another trapdoor began to lift behind them, sand cascading like a waterfall as it rose.
Mila turned to Tacita. ‘Can you use a sword?’ she asked, holding one out.
The girl shook her head and stepped back from it. ‘Not against a tiger.’
Vita stared at the weapon as though it were a venomous snake.
‘Stay behind us,’ Mila shouted as a second tiger leapt from the tunnel. Vita went behind Albaus, and Tacita moved behind Mila. She looked at Albaus, who signalled he would take the animal to their left. Nodding, she locked eyes with the other cat who continued to hunt them. It hissed at the crowd as they cheered, fear fighting hunger. It was common knowledge that the animals were starved to make them more aggressive.
‘I hope you know how to use that thing,’ Tacita whispered behind her.
The tiger’s gaze shifted to Vita, who had collapsed to her knees in prayer. Mila knew Albaus would not stand a chance against both of them.
‘Here!’ she shouted, waving her arms to recapture its attention. It turned to her with a roar.
‘What are you doing?’ Tacita pleaded behind her.
The swords slipped in Mila’s sweaty palms. She reminded herself that she was armed and fast.
The tiger came for her at the same time Mila heard another trapdoor lifting. It would not stop until all four of them lay dead—that was how it worked.
She swung her sword, shouting, her own version of a roar, hoping to make the tiger think twice. To her left, she saw Albaus fighting back giant paws, claws extended for him. She heard the air leave his lungs with the effort of each swing. She knew with certainty he would tire before the beast did.
Mila stabbed at the tiger, narrowly missing each time.
Tacita screamed, and Mila glanced over her shoulder to see a third cat with its sights on them. She hoped Vita’s prayers were being heard. She focused on the closest tiger, sword swinging as the big cat pulled up short and hissed in response.
A razor-like scream made her turn. She watched in horror as the other animal pinned Tacita to the ground, its jaws locking onto her shoulder. Mila moved to kill the animal, but a sting of claws lashed at her side. She swung instinctively, and by luck the tiger came down on top of her sword, howling and twisting. Gripping her other weapon tightly, she drove it through the stomach of the animal, blood running down her hands and arms as she struggled against the weight. It was too much and she toppled backwards, the beast collapsing on top of her, pinning her to the ground. She turned her head to see Tacita being dragged away. She had stopped screaming.
Panic surged through her and she turned the other way, looking for Albaus, glimpsing him as he ducked about, swords still swinging, trying to stay alive. Vita had curled up in a ball on the sand with her hands over her head, rocking and shaking. Mila shoved at the dead animal on top of her, trying to free herself. She pushed and grunted, finally freeing one leg and using it to push herself off the sand.
Albaus yelled as the tiger clawed one of his arms. The sword fell from his hand. If she could just get herself free.
After much effort, she wriggled out, pulling her swords from the dead beast as she scrambled to her feet. She threw one of the swords at the crouching cat about to leap at Albaus, piercing its side. It roared and collapsed to the ground. Albaus cut its throat and retrieved Mila’s second sword, tossing it to her. She searched for Tacita and saw by the bloody-faced animal that she was too late. Mila’s face contorted as she struggled to contain her emotion.
The enthralled crowd clapped and cheered. It seemed no one had been expecting them to live that long. Vita’s sobs grew louder.
‘Quiet!’ Mila said, turning to her. ‘I’m trying to keep you alive.’
Albaus collected his other sword and went to kill the remaining beast. The unsuspecting animal, lost in its hunger, never stood a chance against him. Mila probably would have let it live, because she did not want to see what it had done to her new friend. She knew when it was dead because the spectators erupted into cheers.
She pulled a sobbing Vita to her feet and looked around the arena, ready. She did not have to wait long, the sound of a gate opening making her go still. Her eyes went to Albaus as he made his way back towards her. He stopped walking, turning to the gate. His face told her everything she needed to know—they were about to die.
Two men entered the arena. No, not men, giants. A head taller than Albaus and twice the width. Their arms looked as though they were carved from stone, and their shoulders rose to the base of their skulls. These were the men sent to finish the job. A shield in one hand and a spiked mace in the other, they stomped out into the arena, leaving a cloud of sand behind them. They wore nothing but a loincloth and a helmet that served to intimidate rather than protect. Vita fell to her knees once again, praying and sobbing. Albaus glanced at Mila, no fear, just a practical question poised on his face.
‘I will take the one on the left,’ she breathed.
The men were more than twice her size and at least three times her weight. She would be crushed in moments. Her eyes went to the crowd, watching their reaction. Again she found herself searching for Remus, but he was not among them. What would he think of the men coming to kill her? What would he tell her to do? There were no shields available to her, only swords and a fierce heart.
Her gaze returned to Albaus and he nodded towards Vita.
‘Get behind Albaus,’ Mila instructed, shoving her in his direction. When the woman closed her eyes, she added, ‘Now, if you want to live!’
She crawled across the sand, still murmuring her prayers.
Dark eyes peered out from beneath a helmet, fixed on her. Fingers tightened around his mace, and muscles flexed and shifted, seemingly growing in size.
All she had was speed.
He was still walking when he swung his mace. She ducked, her sword colliding with his shield. One blow from that man would be enough to kill her. Twisting her body, she moved closer, her sword slicing his leg. He roared as she tumbled out of the way of his weapon, which slammed into the sand beside her. All she could do was keep out of his way, but the crowd continued to cheer. Every moment she lived exceeded their expectation.
Mila allowed herself one glance at Albaus. He had certainly met his match. The pair battled between two dead beasts, her bo
dyguard dwarfed by his opponent. She tumbled, avoiding another blow. A trail of blood followed him as they shuffled through the sand towards her, but the injury did not slow him. Mace and wood came at her from both sides, and she had to remember how to fight with two swords. Remus had erased everything she thought she knew about fighting. What would he shout at her now?
A loud bang rang in her ear as the shield hit the right side of her head, knocking her into the sand. Her hand went over her ear. It was her first big mistake. She had let go of her sword.
She tried to focus. Where was he? Above her? She rolled onto her back and raised her weapon just in time. Sand was kicked up into her eyes and she blinked against it, momentarily blinded. She reached around for the other sword while kicking out instinctively, hoping to hit his knee.
The crowd was out of their seats, calling her name, telling her to fight back. If only she could. Giving up on the sword, she rolled again, unsure if it would be enough to save her. She hit something hard and looked up, expecting to see the giant. Perhaps she had misjudged where he was. By that time the crowd was deafening, competing with the persistent ringing in her ear.
What she was not expecting to see was Remus.
Chapter 31
Remus snatched up the bloodied sword he had seen fall from her hand and stood over her, a leg on either side of her body. If the man with the mace wanted her dead, he would need to get through Remus first. He shoved the giant back with his weapon. The guards who had given chase when he leapt into the arena were now stopped some distance away, looking to the emperor to see what they should do about the intruder. Severus was a smart man, and the excited reaction of the crowd made it almost impossible for him to have the retired gladiator removed. He waved the guards away and straightened to watch. They had his full attention now.
Remus stepped over Mila, pushing her opponent farther back, as best one could when said opponent was the size of a large oak. ‘On your feet,’ he called to her, resisting the urge to look, to check her injuries, inspect every inch of her. There was no time to watch her obsessively and mentally tally every knock and bruise.
Mila did as she was told, rolling onto her stomach and pushing herself up onto her feet. She ran at the giant, sliding beneath his shield and driving her sword into his side. He roared and dropped to his knees. Remus cut his throat with one clean swipe of his sword. It was not personal, it was survival. Someone had to die to satisfy the people’s hunger.
Mila staggered back, horror flashing on her face. The arena had not desensitised her yet. He stepped up and grabbed hold of her. When she did not look at him, he shook her. As long as she was alive, they would keep coming, and he intended to kill every man and beast until there was no one left to send.
The feel of warm blood beneath his hand made him look down. She was bleeding. He had arrived too late. Cutting a piece of fabric from his tunic, he tied it around the bleeding limb, eyes going to Albaus who was clutching his left side, staggering around, barely fending off his opponent. Mila went to move and he caught her arm.
‘Stay with the girl.’
She nodded, and he ran off to help Albaus.
The crowd sang with excitement. He was a hero returning to the arena to help the underdog. A retired gladiator was the ultimate treat, and having him appear unannounced, mid-execution, was beyond their wildest dreams.
Up went the gates—both ends that time. Remus cursed and looked around. Two sagittarius gladiators galloped into the arena, bows poised. They circled, more dangerous than any beast.
He turned to Mila. ‘Get the shield.’
She took off at a run, prying it from the dead man’s hand.
One kill at a time. It was all he could do.
He walked straight into the middle of Albaus’s fight and knocked the mace from the giant’s hand. Catching the edge of his shield, he drove his sword through the gladiator’s stomach. He did not stand around to watch him die; he knew the wound was fatal, even if it took some time. As the man fell to his knees, Remus pulled the shield from his hand and tossed it to Albaus.
‘Eyes on the archers!’ he called to the others.
As if on cue, an arrow swept past his shoulder.
‘We need to knock them off their horses,’ he said to Albaus, who was leaning on the shield, clutching his bloodied side.
The bodyguard straightened and looked around, nodding.
The pained scream of a woman made him turn. Vita writhed at Mila’s feet, an arrow protruding from her back. Mila covered them with the shield and tried to remove the arrow. The woman screamed again. The other archer took aim at Mila. The shield could only protect so much of them. When the second rider appeared on the other side of them, Remus almost fell over with shock when she caught the arrow and dropped it on the ground. He hurled his weapon at the rider as he galloped past, knocking him from his horse. The crowd ate it up, bursting from their seats, turning to one another with excitement. Albaus limped towards the fallen rider, sword in hand.
Another scream.
Remus turned and watched as Mila let go of the shield and tried to stop the blood pouring from a wound in the woman’s neck.
‘Pick up the shield!’ he called to her.
She reluctantly let the limp body collapse against the sand and grabbed the shield. Remus narrowed his eyes on the second rider. He needed a weapon.
Hiss.
He dodged the arrow and took off at a run for the closest sword, skidding across the sand and snatching it up.
Hiss.
Remus swung the weapon, skilfully stopping an arrow from hitting him before chasing after the horse. The crowd erupted.
Hiss.
Albaus came running from the other direction.
Hiss. Hiss.
The horse was cut off, rearing as Albaus blocked its path. Remus pulled the rider from the saddle by his leg, driving his sword through the man’s chest. He collected the bow and remaining arrows and turned to face Albaus, who was pale and close to collapse. He glanced down at the oozing wound. There was not much fight left in the bodyguard.
Mila was running around collecting weapons from the dead, the crowd cheering the fact that she was still alive. Remus met her in the middle of the arena and the pair looked around at their battlefield, a sea of blood and corpses. She dropped the weapons between them, keeping hold of one sword.
‘You should not have come,’ she said to him, close to tears. ‘Now we will both die.’
He stepped over the weapons and pulled her against him with his free arm. ‘Keep your shield up,’ he whispered. ‘We’re not done yet.’
The hum of gates sounded behind them and they both turned to watch gladiators file into the arena, laden with swords, shields, spears, nets and daggers. They just kept coming, around fifty men, forming a circle around the three of them.
Mila’s breathing slowed. Her sword went limp in her hand.
‘They might still let you leave,’ she said, looking at the men surrounding them.
He reached for a bow and arrows. ‘We’ll use the bows while we have the distance, then switch to swords.’
She stared up at him. ‘You never taught me how to use a bow.’
Albaus limped over to them and held out his hand. Remus handed him the other bow. The emperor stood and walked over to the barrier, gripping it with both hands, his eyes moving past them to the gate of life, which was being raised.
What now?
Felix and Fausta walked onto the sand, stepping between the formation of gladiators who looked between each other, confused. The pair made their way over to where the others stood.
‘What are you doing?’ Mila asked as they selected weapons from the pile at her feet.
‘Improving your odds,’ Felix said, giving Remus a pat as he stepped past him.
Remus looked at Fausta. ‘Did he talk you into this?’
‘No one can talk me into anything I don’t want to do.’ She glanced about. ‘Five against fifty isn’t so bad.’ Then, looking at Felix, ‘Four and
a half.’
‘No,’ Mila said. ‘I cannot let you do this. You should all leave before it is too late.’
Fausta swung her mace and looked around at the gladiators waiting to kill them. ‘I’m not one for watching.’
The spectators, having figured out that the gladiators had entered the arena of their own accord, began to cheer and whistle. Severus took in their reaction and everyone waited for his signal. He could have shut the whole thing down and simply cut the throats of the convicted.
But the game had changed.
Mila felt sick. She looked around at the people about to die alongside her and swallowed down her guilt. Why had Remus come back? She had been somewhat prepared for her own death. To die fighting with a sword in her hand would have been enough.
Albaus looked ready to fall over. Too much blood loss. She caught his eye and he confirmed what she already knew—he would not survive the next fight. He was done.
The emperor raised his hands to quieten the crowd. He was about to say something when Nerva appeared on the podium, pushing past the guards who stood in his way. Severus turned to see what was happening.
‘Ave domine,’ Nerva said, greeting the emperor. He leapt over the barrier of the podium and dropped down onto the sand. There was a scroll in his hand, which he held up as he turned to address the people.
Mila glanced at Remus, who appeared relieved. She knew then that he had done this. He had not fled the city for himself. He had gone to find Nerva—to find help.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ Severus asked.
Mila felt a surge of panic. How many lives would be destroyed trying to save hers? ‘Nerva,’ she called. He turned. ‘Don’t.’
‘Mila,’ Remus said, taking a step towards her.
She held up a hand, and he fell silent. Looking at the emperor, she said, ‘I will die in whatever way pleases you, but please let everyone else exit the arena safely.’
