by Aaron Hodges
And what of the beasts?
A shiver ran through Rydian as he forced his gaze from the wilderness. Having finally seen this endless jungle, he could well believe the stories of creatures worse than the hounds that haunted Goma, of monsters the size of men, creatures that could swallow a human whole, and still have room for their children.
No, better the cities, controlled by the Alfur though they were, than what passed below. So, where then was the ship taking him?
Rydian did not have to wait long for an answer, as ahead, a break finally appeared in the endless trees. Like the horizon before it, a line appeared in the far distance, where the green gave way to…blue?
His heart suddenly hammering, Rydian leaned closer to the crystal, trying to make out what approached. Beyond the green, the blue rippled like the trees below, but…it also shimmered, light from the rising sun flashing from its surface, as though it were glass or…water.
The ocean.
Rydian watched as the enormous body of water approached. It seemed to grow larger by the minute, stretching out across the horizon as the ship raced towards its shores. How far could it reach? In Goma, there were no bodies of water, unless one counted the puddles in the street after a heavy afternoon shower.
Looking upon that infinite blue was as strange to him as the jungle below—stranger even, for at least the jungle had land to walk on. The city of Mayenke was out there somewhere, on an island amidst the blue. How did its citizens survive, surrounded by endless water? Was that where the ship was taking him, to Mayenke?
Yet even as the thought occurred to him, Rydian noticed something else. The ship was sinking, drifting lower in the sky with every passing moment. As the shimmering blue of the ocean approached, the trees of the jungle grew closer, reaching up with their enormous trunks, branches swaying like limbs, reaching for the sleek steel of the Alfurian ship.
A howl from below drew Rydian’s attention back to the jungle, and he noticed for the first time movement amongst the treetops. Ice froze his veins as he saw the creatures there, leaping from branch to branch as they darted towards the shadow of his ship. Hairs rose on the back of Rydian’s neck as he listened to their howls, to the rage in their voices.
Primates.
They would tear him apart if the ship landed here. He looked around his steel prison, seeking something, anything that would allow him to contact its pilot, to beg them not to drop him in the wilderness below, but there was nothing. His panic growing, he watched the number of primates swell. Their screams chased after the ship, surrounding it, until Rydian felt sure that any moment now they would be upon him.
Then, abruptly, they began to fall behind.
Frowning, Rydian watched from the window of the ship as the primates came to a stop. Hanging from the treetops by their hundreds, they formed a near-perfect line in the trees, as though something had stopped them from continuing.
Before Rydian could begin to understand what he was seeing, the ground below the ship changed, jungle giving way abruptly to open ground. Buildings followed, single-storey and built from wood and stone. He had a moment to take in five squat, square structures placed at equal intervals around a sixth at their centre. Then the ship lurched again, and suddenly he was plummeting from the sky, the ground rushing up, his stomach squashed against his lungs somewhere in the vicinity of his throat.
The falling sensation lasted just long enough for Rydian to release a belated scream. Then the ship was rocking gently as it touched down on the open ground outside his window, and the whirring of its engine was dying away, its Light flickering.
A hiss came from the doors as they swung open.
Crouched against the window in the corner, Rydian watched the opening, expecting at any moment for a monstrous beast to leap at him, for his executioners to come stamping up the ramp, for an Alfur to enter and threaten him with its Manus reader.
Nothing happened.
Slowly the pounding of Rydian’s heart slowed. The sounds and smells of the outside world began to filter through to his senses. Somewhere in the distance, birds sang and insects chirped. The air that blew through the doorway was moist and warm like in Goma, but there was also a sharpness to it here, a tang that set his eyes to watering.
Rising from the cold ground, Rydian stepped hesitantly towards the opening. Though the internal Light of the ship still glowed, he found himself squinting against the brilliance outside. Standing in the doorway, he experienced another moment of disorientation, before details began to take shape.
Carefully, Rydian walked down the metallic ramp, hand outstretched for balance, though there was no railing to hold. He did not look at where he placed his feet, only stared at the strange new world around him. From his window in the ship, he’d been unable to take in the entirety of the complex, but now he saw the rest of it, the doom he had been brought to.
He stood alone on an open patch of ground outside the complex. The buildings were similar to those found in lower Goma, basic in construction, fabricated from wood and stone, not the brilliant metals of Alfurian design. A silence hung about the place, as though it had been abandoned, though he glimpsed smoke rising from a nearby chimney.
But it was not the buildings themselves that took Rydian’s breath away. Beyond the open ground on which he stood, the wilderness waited. There were no walls here, not even a fence to keep out the beasts of the jungle. Nothing.
Recalling the primates that had chased his ship, Rydian shivered, though the wind still carried the warmth of summer on its breath. He retreated a step in the direction of the buildings, though he couldn’t imagine their basic construction could withstand an assault against the monsters lurking in that wilderness. Fists clenched, he waited for the creatures to emerge.
Instead, a buzzing from overhead drew Rydian’s attention. Glancing up, he was surprised to see another Alfurian ship dropping from the sky. A moment later it landed near his own, its metallic doors opening with a hiss. Minutes ticked past before a hesitant figure emerged to join him in the field. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, though before either could speak, another ship appeared overhead.
Within half an hour, dozens of men and women had joined Rydian in the field. Most stood alone, arms wrapped around themselves as they looked from the buildings to the trees. Rydian could see his own fear reflected in their eyes, though he found that the mystery of this place had begun to replace his own terror. Surely the Alfur had not brought them all here, just for them to die at the teeth and claws of beasts…
So, why had they been brought here?
He turned his gaze on his new companions, searching for some clue. They came in all shapes and sizes, some with the porcelain skin and ginger hair of the Boustorans, others with the golden tans of Mayenke or Lutryde, and yet others with the bronze complexions of the Riesor. All stood looking around in varying states of confusion.
A giant of a man towered to Rydian’s left, though judging from the sparse fluff growing under his chin, the man couldn’t be much older than his own eighteen years. Even so, Rydian shivered as the stranger’s gaze passed in his direction.
Quickly averting his eyes, he noticed another woman standing nearby. Closer to his own five feet and nine inches, she at least didn’t appear overtly threatening. The wind tugged at her ash-blonde hair as Rydian edged towards her. Her eyes darted in his direction at the moment, and a scowl appeared on her lips.
“What are you looking at?” The words hissed from her mouth, lips barely moving.
“Nothing,” Rydian replied quickly, turning away.
“You think because I’m a woman I won’t kill you?” she growled.
Rydian’s head whipped around at her words. “What?”
“You heard me, mouse,” she snapped, eyes narrowing. “Stay out of my way.”
Swallowing, Rydian edged away from her, hands raised. “Listen, I—”
“Silence!”
Rydian jumped half a foot off the ground as a woman’s voice carried over the fiel
d. Heart suddenly racing, he spun on the spot, fists raised, warmth surging from his Manus reader as he searched for the owner of the voice. It didn’t take long for him to spot the woman that had spoken.
The newcomer was human, thankfully, though she stood taller than most of the men and women milling in the field. Her black hair had been cropped short and she wore a simple tunic and leggings of Goman green. She wore a scowl foul enough to curdle milk as her sapphire eyes swept the crowd, causing those who stood in her path to quickly step aside.
“So this is today’s offering,” Rydian heard the woman muttering as she drew closer. “Can’t give us one bloody day off…suppose we’d better get this over with…Oy!” she bellowed again, making no effort to mask her irritation now. “Which of you sorry bastards hails from Goma?”
The crowd stirred, glancing at one another in uncertainty at the woman’s words. What was she asking—
“I said, who is from bloody Goma?”
Rydian flinched again at the scream. Belatedly he raised his hand, and noticed the giant and the woman who’d just threatened to kill him doing the same. He swallowed as the latter’s eyes turned in his direction and he pointedly looked away—then stifled a cry as he found the woman in charge standing directly behind him.
“So it’s you three, is it?” she asked, her face twisted in a scowl.
Rydian’s heart began to pound as he realised that of the dozens in the field, the three of them were the only ones to have raised their hands. The others must all hail from different cities of Talamh.
“Hell, that’s gotta be the worst yet,” the woman muttered, looking at them each in turn. “What, they don’t commit crimes in Goma anymore? Ah well, suppose it makes my job easier. And the giant should give the mob a show.” She shook her head before turning and starting towards the nearby buildings. “Come on, then.” Her voice carried back to Rydian and the others. “It’s bloody hot out here and my head is killing me.”
Rydian blinked, sharing a glance with the two other Gomans. But whatever was happening here, the pair were just as confused as he was.
“Oy!” the woman bellowed, looking back and seeing them still standing where she’d left them. “Are you gladiators or bloody possums?” Follow!”
The words rung in Rydian’s ears as he started after the woman. What had she said? Surely he’d misheard…
“Wait!” he called as he caught the woman, just before she entered the complex of buildings. “Wait,” he repeated, puffing as the stranger paused. “What did you say? About being a gladiator? That…can’t be right—”
The woman turned abruptly, irritated eyes fixing on Rydian. Closer now, he noticed the bloodshot red behind her sapphire irises, the tired shadows beneath her eyes.
“Let me guess, kid,” she snapped. “You’re not supposed to be here? You thought you were going to a hard labour camp? Or maybe it was the mines? Looking at you, I doubt it was for execution, though I suppose it’s always the ones you least suspect…” She shook her head, voice becoming weary as she raised a hand to her temple. “Look, kid, truth is, I enjoyed myself far too much last night and today I’m paying for it. I’d really rather be in bed, so if you don’t want to be here, just say the word. We’ll get you back on one of those ships, and the Alfur will find another way to deal with your ‘aggression.’”
“I…” Rydian opened his mouth, then closed it, the words dying in his throat as the implications of what the woman had said struck him.
Execution? He shivered, recalling the way the Alfur had looked at him back in Goma, the fear in its overly large eyes. Those creatures…they would not tolerate aggression in their communities, and especially not violence directed at them. If he were sent back…
“No, ma’am,” he rasped finally, throat suddenly parched. “No, it’s alright, I misspoke.”
The woman scowled. “That’s a shame,” she muttered, turning from them. “And you can call me Falcon. Now come on, the rest of the team will still be asleep, lucky bastards, but I guess I’ll show you around. Honestly, the things they make me do as champion.”
7
“Catch!”
Rydian flinched as a blade tumbled through the air towards him. Rather than obey Falcon’s shouted command, he leapt back, allowing the weapon to slam into the sand at his feet. The woman said nothing, only laughed and tossed a shield down alongside the blade.
“Better pick those up,” she said before turning to the others, “our weapons master doesn’t like it when we get sand all through his gear.”
Fists clenched, Rydian muttered a curse beneath his breath. The woman could have simply passed him the weapons, rather than throwing the damned sword.
She’d been similarly brisk on their short tour through the complex. They’d stopped first at one of the outer buildings, its walls painted a flaking Goman green. Within, they’d soon confirmed the truth of Falcon’s words regarding the night before. Discarded plates and tankards occupied the tables of the mess hall, and a stench lingered in the corridors, discernible even through the faint burning scent of the lanterns. Snores had rumbled from behind each door they passed, and Rydian had been relieved when Falcon had led them to an empty room.
The two bunk beds within had been more disappointing, especially when the size of his giant companion made it all but impossible for the man to take a top bed. A glare from the young woman had been enough to remind Rydian of her earlier threats in the field, and so he’d found himself in one of the top bunks.
Afterwards, Falcon had given them each an emerald uniform and had bidden them to follow her. Leading them from the Goman barracks, they’d entered the larger building in the centre of the complex that Rydian had glimpsed from the air. There, they’d found a building painted a neutral white. Within, the corridors had been lit by Alfurian Light, though Rydian saw no sign of the creatures before they reached the courtyard in the centre of the building.
Now Rydian stood on the sands of the practice arena, staring at the blade at his feet, wondering what he had done to earn such a fate. Shivering, he looked again at Falcon, but the woman had already moved on to his companions. Drawing in a breath, he reached down and carefully lifted the sword from the sand, then took the shield as well. The blade itself was short and surprisingly heavy, and when he placed a thumb to its edges, he found them dull.
“It’s a practice blade,” Falcon said, drawing Rydian’s attention back to the woman. “Most of the Goman gladiators use the gladius: short, stabbing swords like the one you’re holding now. The practice ones are heavier, though, to help build your strength.”
She stood there expectantly, as though waiting for them to do something, before her scowl returned. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked, gesturing to the three of them. “Get on with it!”
Rydian blinked at the command. “Get on with what?”
Falcon’s face took on a pained look and she lifted a hand to her rub her temples. “Practice,” she hissed. “Gods below, kid, are you deaf or something?”
Fist clenched around the blade in his hand, Rydian took a step towards the woman. “Maybe if you actually explained anything,” he growled, “we might understand what on Talamh is going on!” Blood pounding in his ears, he fixed the woman with a glare, before finally allowing himself to exhale. “And my name is Rydian.”
The woman watched him, eyes glistening in the emerald sunlight, before snorting softly.
“Rydian, is it?” she asked, advancing until they stood face to face. “I suggest you forget that name, kid. From today on, you’re nothing, nobody. That goes for all of you,” she added, eyes darting to where his two companions stood. “As far as anyone back home is concerned, you’re all dead, lost in some accident or another.”
Rydian’s heart stilled at the woman’s words and he found himself staggering back from her, mouth opening, then closing again as the words refused to come. In his mind, he saw an image of his father seated at their dining table, head in his hands, mourning the son that would never ret
urn. Clenching his fists, he felt the hardness of his Manus reader in his palm, the flush of its warmth, but even as he reached out again for his father, he felt only emptiness.
“Oh don’t look like that,” Falcon said, shaking her head. “It’s not so bad—in a month, you’ll step onto the sands of the arena and become gladiators. If you train hard, you might even survive and earn yourselves new names!”
“A month?” Alongside Rydian, the giant gladiator finally spoke up. “Surely it takes longer than that to become a gladiator?”
“A month is plenty of time to sort the mice from the hounds,” Falcon replied with a roll of her eyes, then waved a hand. “Anyway, I’ll leave the three of you to it. If I’m quick, I might just be able to snatch a quick nap before the others rise.”
“What?” the young woman on Rydian’s other side spoke up. “You’re leaving us?”
Falcon stared back at her, eyes unblinking. “Were you expecting something else?” she asked finally. “I’ve given you your orientation, provided you with your uniforms, even shown you the practice arena. What else is there?”
“But who’s going to train us?” the young woman gasped.
“Train you?” Falcon asked, then threw back her head and laughed. “Kid, I’m the champion of Goma. You don’t serious expect me to train every damn recruit that passes through our barracks, do you?”
Silence fell as the three of them stared at the woman. Rydian glanced at his companions, waiting for one to object, but both seemed as shocked as he was by Falcon’s announcement. The gladiator herself watched them for a long moment, hands on hips, before offering them a curt nod.
“Good, so we understand each other,” she said, her smile returning. “I’ll be back with the other gladiators in a few hours. Gods willing this migraine will be gone by then. Until then, good luck, kids!”
With that, she turned and marched to the glass door that was the only entrance to the courtyard, leaving the three of them standing alone.
