The Champion's Ruin

by Kristen Banet

  “Keep those eyes open,” Mat ordered. “He loves your eyes.”

  She gasped as Zayden fucked her quickly. Her body was sensitive, too sensitive as each stroke found places of feeling she had never felt before. With a sex life as active as hers, that was a strange experience.

  “I love you,” Mat whispered in her ear. “It’s amazing to watch you taken by him.”

  She gasped, and Mat shifted to bring one hand up, covering her mouth, just in time to stop her from screaming into the night.

  Zayden snarled as he moved his hips, taking her body like a conqueror. She normally controlled sex with this husband more than the others. Tonight was the first time he had ever made an effort to take control.

  He fucked her so hard, Mat lost his balance, and Zayden had to stop as her first husband went to the ground. Zayden followed them down, fucking her on top of Mat while Mat held her, helpless to the both of them.

  Finally, Zayden roared as Mave crested a second time. She clung to him as he buried himself and went with her, their bodies pulsing.

  “That’s a hell of a goodbye,” Mat said, panting underneath them. “I hope the hello when we get back lives up to it.”

  “Come back, and it will. Don’t worry about that,” she said, kissing Zayden before he had a chance to pull away. Once he was up and fixing himself, she sat up, got off Mat, and kissed him as well. “Come back, and it’ll be better.”

  14

  Mave

  Two days later, Mat and Zayden left at dawn. She kissed them, promising to keep up her training, and they promised to come home alive. She didn’t care if their mission succeeded or not, only that they came home to her.

  It took her most of the morning to get to doing what she was supposed to be doing. She had a nemari to train and guide, however she was supposed to do that. She knew he was waiting for her outside in the clearing in front of their homes, too afraid to knock on the door. She knew she needed to move faster, but she couldn’t bring herself to rush. By the time she walked out, Emerian looked to be taking a nap, propped up against a tree.

  “Hope you’re comfortable,” she teased, smiling down at him as she drew close.

  He jumped up in a flurry of limbs that flailed around as he tried to make himself presentable. Mave tried not to laugh.

  “I don’t know how…”

  “It’s fine,” she said, her smile not fading. “I kept you waiting a bit too long than was right.”

  “It’s fine, Champion,” he replied, brushing dirt and pieces of grass off his breeches. When he looked up, his blood-red ruby eyes were worried. “Mat and Zayden left today. No one would fault you for taking the day to yourself.”

  “That’s not how we do things in this village. The best thing I can do for them is to stay sharp for when it’s my turn to go out and continue fighting…when our king lets me.” She was still agitated about being stuck for the entire summer. She understood and had agreed, but she wanted to go out there and keep fighting. It was all she knew. It was her most comfortable place and made her feel more useful than helping in the village ever could.

  “I’m not worried about them. They’re both strong, capable, and experienced warriors who can think on their feet if anything goes wrong. They’ve both run these sorts of missions, and the Elvasi have proven incapable of dealing with the Andinna attacks. They don’t do war the way we do.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that recently,” Emerian commented.

  “Tell me what you think,” she ordered. She wasn’t a military commander, but if Emerian had the talent for it, she wanted to encourage him. She could inspire even if she didn’t truly lead. It wasn’t in her to lead strangers to their deaths. She’d experienced combat as a solitary thing for a long, lonely time and had no experience with it otherwise until recent years.

  “We strike fast and hard, even when it’s a daytime attack. The Elvasi, from history, marched into fields, then clashed with other armies, using cavalry and archer lines. They’re slower. It was just something on my mind. Makes me wonder how we really lost the first War.”

  “That was…” Mave sighed. “Some here would tell you it was my fault, but it was really the fault of those who came before us, our parents and grandparents.” She only had a couple of decades on Emerian, making them the same generation, those born right before the end of the War and the thousand years since. Her generation was one of Andinna who didn’t know the time before slavery. The generation right before hers was the generation born and had gone to War before they really hit the golden years of their prime. All of her husbands were born in that thousand-year period. Farther back in time, the generation before them were those at fault—the parents and grandparents.

  “They made bad decisions,” Emerian said softly.

  “They did. They could have won, they should have won, but they didn’t. They let their hearts get too involved.” A fault Mave sometimes had to work to avoid. That was why she tried not to fret over Mat and Zayden. It was an easy trap for anyone to fall into. She had done it before, letting her heart take over when her head was telling her the right things.

  “Is that why you’re so cold when you fight?” he asked, lowering his eyes.

  Mave opened her mouth but didn’t say the first thing that came to mind. They walked as she really considered her words. It took her a long time to really find the right thing to say, the best way to explain the strange way she approached the world and being a warrior.

  “For a long time, I was cold because I needed to survive. Anything other than cold was a weakness I couldn’t afford. If I let the other gladiators rile me, I could get sloppy, so I didn’t react at all. I focused on survival, one fight at a time, one day at a time. I’m still sometimes cold because…it’s the best place to be when you have to kill someone. There’s something…clear about it, a lack of emotion that allows for more critical thought. I see the world differently when I go there. It’s when I’m at my best.” She shrugged. “Most Andinna lead with their hearts, their passion. I try my best to detach myself. Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t an oddity.”

  “I don’t think you’re an oddity, but I do think you’re the only Andinna who knows how to be like that. That’s not really a bad thing. Maybe you could teach me, though. Then you won’t be an oddity,” Emerian pointed out with a chuckle.

  “I’ll try to teach you,” she promised softly, trying to sound as though she meant it.

  “Really?” He seemed so excited, and Mave wanted to make a sad, pitiful laugh, but she held it back, keeping herself light.

  “Yeah!” And I’ll pray you never succeed because it takes great trauma to develop that sense of self, and you don’t deserve that. No one deserves that.

  She liked his hopeful exuberance. He wanted so much, and she could see it burning in his eyes. So different from the jumpy, wary male who had shown up with Trevan and Dave, unsure of what he wanted or what he would find in Anden. So different from the rumors that he was a general nuisance to the other gladiators, trying to play to the more Elvasi side of his nature. Maybe that was another reason she liked him so much. Like her, he discovered the Andinna and their culture in its entirety and found his place. Coming to Anden was finding a home that had been waiting for centuries for their return. His history didn’t really bother her, even if she took those similarities away. Luykas was half-Elvasi and had moments when it was apparent in his distinct way of looking at situations and behavior. Even she had hang-ups with certain parts of Andinna culture because of her life in the Empire. All any of them could do was try to look past those hang-ups and embrace their new lives, some newer than others.

  They went to their small clearing, and Mave started them off with simple stretching, wanting to instill that good habit into her nemari. It went by quickly, then she found wooden practice weapons, a variety of them kept in a shed in the clearing, letting him have his pick first. He chose the axe, and she picked up the spear.

  “I’ve never seen you with anything but a sword,” he pointed o
ut as she tested its weight in her hands.

  “I prefer short swords. I’m unpracticed with everything else now,” she explained, looking down at the spear. “I could manage a long sword, but most of these weapons I only picked up during my tenure as the Champion in the Colosseum, and I was desperate. Once I became Champion, it was hard to disarm me, so I rarely touched anything else.”

  “You would take a weapon from the dead to keep fighting,” he said softly, looking at her carefully.

  “I would,” she confirmed. “And I stayed alive. That’s why I’m making you use each of these to get a feel for them. My biggest mistakes on the sands were caused by a lack of familiarity. I would lose my gladius and grab the closest thing I could, but wouldn’t know how to use it. Once, I grabbed a battle axe a lot like yours. I was still young and didn’t have the strength for it. Nearly met my end that day as I tried to use it, letting fear push me instead of thought.”

  She realized how closely he was watching her. There was something intent, his eyes on the spear.

  “Are you upset I picked up a spear?” she asked.

  “It’s an Elvasi weapon, isn’t it?”

  “Yes and no,” she answered with a shrug. “It’s a weapon and can be deadly in the hands of a warrior, soldier, or even a child. There are many Andinna who use it.” She had seen a lot of spears during the spring campaign. Nevyn had fifty warriors willing to use them, and from the air, the spear was vicious. They could swoop in and kill their enemy without getting too close, much like Andinna archers, who could fly in formation and rain arrows down on the enemy without being in danger. She looked at the spear in her hand, paying close attention to the details as she spun it in her hand.

  “Now, this is an Elvasi style spear, but with only minor differences from our own. See the way they worked the tip? It goes in smoothly, but it’s hard to pull out without ripping up the flesh, and I bet it easily gets stuck in the body.” She ran her hand on the wooden tip that was carved exceptionally well. It would be deadly if it was steel.

  “What about Andinna spears?” he asked, stepping closer, looking at what she was pointing out.

  “We don’t use the serrated edges. Our spears are smooth, meant to go into flesh with ease and come out. Imagine an Andinna in the air whose weapon gets stuck in a body. It wouldn’t go well for our warrior. He or she would be vulnerable. So Andinna weapons are made sharp and smooth, so we can kill quickly and move onto the next enemy.”

  “How do you know all this?” He looked at her eyes now, and she caught the respect there.

  “Some of it I picked up without realizing in the pits. A lot of it, I’ve learned since leaving the Empire.” And most of it comes from the private lessons with Kristanya.

  “I can’t believe I spent my entire life working in the fields while you learned all of this,” he said, sighing. “I feel like I wasted time. We’re practically the same age, and you’ve done so much more with your life and your time.”

  “You didn’t have much of a choice. We were slaves, Emerian, and the circumstances of our lives were decided by others. You’re learning now, so that’s all that matters.”

  “I could have tried harder,” he countered. “I could have tried to make friends instead of…”

  She heard the regret and could only guess at the source. From her point of view, there were many possibilities—regret he had neglected his Andinna nature for so long and tried to be Elvasi instead, regret for his judgment of them, regret he might have led to other Andinna being hurt.

  “Tell me something…” She eyed him—the pretty face, long, pointed ears like a pure Elvasi, lean body and shorter than most male Andinna, dark skin, so unlike any Andinna she had met, his blood-red horns, wings, and tail. “Was that even an option? Were there any Andinna willing to take you into their groups or communities?”

  “I never tried to find out.”

  “I don’t think you would have found a place with them,” she told him honestly. “You’re too Elvasi for any Andinna slave to want around. In the pits, mutts rarely survived a year. A few times, I saw them last the decade, but they were all like you, part Elvasi, hated the moment they walked into the pits. Were your decisions in the pits poor ones? Probably. But I think they might have been the only real option you had. That’s why I don’t judge you for them.”

  “That…thanks,” he said lamely, nodding his acceptance. She was impressed by his ability to listen.

  “I killed a lot of our people because I needed to survive,” Mave reminded him. “And while that probably wasn’t the smartest decision at the time…it was the only option I could see. I understand.”

  “Between you and Luykas, I finally have people who understand,” he whispered, looking at the spear in her hand. “Do you think you could teach me more about weapons today? Just…information. I want to know more. We spar a lot, and I’m not saying it’s bad, but…”

  Mave lifted the spear back to eye level, considering his suggestion. Sparring could wait. He was right; he needed more of a real education, something she needed to facilitate as his warrior.

  “That’s fine. There’s a lot we could go over, and if I don’t know the answer to any of your questions, I know Andinna who will be able to answer.” She waved him to follow her back to the shack full of training weapons. Together, they went over every weapon in the shack as Mave explained to him different fighting techniques she had seen over the years, both Andinna and Elvasi.

  “Archers are a problem for us,” she said as her fingers trailed over a bow. “I was never very good with it, but I tried my hand at it once. Bows were banned in the Colosseum, thanks to me.”

  “Really?” He didn’t believe her, and she didn’t fault him.

  “I tried to kill Shadra,” she explained with a small smile. “I was young and inexperienced. If I had spent another decade practicing, maybe I would have hit her, and we wouldn’t be here today.”

  “Or we would be dealing with Emperor Lothen,” he countered. “Who was objectively worse. I know you had history with him, but every slave knew he was a monster, thanks to his mother.”

  “Good point,” she conceded, acknowledging he brought up a valid point. “Our people might have died out years ago if he’d had power while he was still young. Now, back to the weapons. A bow in the hands of the right Andinna is deadly.”

  “Is it possible to fire from the air?” he asked, frowning. “I’ve never seen anyone do it.”

  “I have, but it’s not common. The arrows can fall out of the quiver if the Andinna isn’t careful. That’s something we can ask Varon about. He has the best eye in the valley, if not of every Andinna alive. It’s unnatural. He doesn’t miss.”

  “Yeah, that priest is crazy,” Emerian agreed, chuckling. Mave liked the sound. “His husband is downright insane.”

  “Nevyn is Nevyn.” Mave sighed. “He was considered the best of the Andinna before me. He’s probably still more proficient with most of these weapons. He’s a master like that.”

  “But? I hear a but.”

  “He can’t beat me when I’m using the morok. He can’t beat me with any of these weapons.” With a shrug, she walked out, letting him follow. “Let’s go look in on training. I know Trevan is training some of the more inexperienced Andinna to fight against the Elvasi. Let’s stop in.”

  “Okay. I mean, I sparred with him for over a year, so I think—”

  Mave turned back to him, and a simple look silenced whatever he was about to say. She raised an eyebrow slowly, waiting for him to continue. The silence stretched out.

  “Keep going,” she ordered.

  “I think I know how to fight the Elvasi,” he said softly.

  “You know how to spar against your friend,” she corrected. “That might give you an edge in one-on-one combat, but did he ever really sit down and explain Elvasi fighting techniques? Did he get a net and teach you how to cut out of them by finding the weak points? Did he teach you what rows of Elvasi soldiers were the most vulnerable to attac
k?”

  “No,” Emerian said in a drawn-out way. “Is that what he’s teaching everyone else?”

  “It is,” she confirmed, smiling. “He’s talking about the Elvasi ranking structure, how to find leaders to take them out. How to dodge net throws, the weaknesses of their weapons, and the strengths. He’s talking about how Elvasi archers aim for specific weak points we have. Not kill shots, but how to get us out of the air, so they can then kill us while we’re vulnerable.”

  “Do you know all of this?” he asked, but not disrespectfully.

  “I had to pick much of it up over this past winter before leaving on the spring campaign. Come on. Knowing and not needing something is better than needing it and not knowing.”

  “Of course.”

  Walking to another clearing, she was able to pick Trevan out easily, with Kian at his side. Trevan never trained Andinna alone. Whenever he was scheduled, he did so with someone protecting him. She never had the duty, but she knew every single one of her husbands had, and so did Kian, Nevyn, and Varon. It wasn’t often Trevan had the chance to train since his duty to protect and help Dave took precedence.

  “Now, when you approach an Elvasi using a net, how do you take him down without risking your own safety?” Trevan loudly asked the Andinna in front of him. No one answered. Some were looking past him at Mave, who lifted a finger over lips, a universal symbol of silence. Catching those Andinna looking beyond, Kian turned slowly and grinned. He said nothing as she snuck up behind her Elvasi friend.

  “Anyone?” Trevan sounded annoyed at the silence, running a hand over his face. “Come on, we’ve been over it—AH!”

  Mave reached out and pinched his side, making the Elvasi jump nearly two feet in the air. Everyone laughed as Trevan spun around. She tried to keep a straight face, but a smile cracked through as Kian howled with laughter.