Riveted, Zania held her breath. Aries, God of War, please give Svend your strength and grant him victory. She knew she shouldn’t care about the fate of another slave, but somehow, she did. If Svend got caught in the net, he was doomed, and she couldn’t bear it if he died.
Zania squinted to see better across the distance, sometimes glancing at the giant screen above to get a look at Svend’s face. He harassed his opponent, running back and forth, forcing the giant to pivot in dizzying ways. When the giant cast the net, Svend reversed course and escaped. Zania cheered.
Svend repeated this strategy, and each time he escaped the net, Zania yelled encouragements, along with Dakini and the rest of the Amazons. Svend was their champion as well.
After a while, the giant threw the trident. He missed, but Zania’s heart beat faster. When the giant bent to retrieve his weapon, Svend leapt onto his back, like a white leopard going for the neck, and brandished the axe that fell with a thud, eliciting a spray of crimson blood.
Light on his feet, Svend sprung back as the giant screamed then collapsed. Blood poured out of his neck, drenching the sand.
In her euphoria, Zania hugged Morrigan, who didn’t protest. When Svend raised his axe in victory, the cheer among the Amazons almost eclipsed the delirious shouts of the crowd. Despite his poor performance against Zania in the sex arena, their favorite champion was regaining their respect.
The games seemed to go on forever. Amazon after Amazon entered the arena. A few came back unharmed, some victorious but wounded. Morrigan rushed to help the wounded with her satchel of poultices and bandages. The dead had to be dragged through the expanse, leaving wide trails of blood.
Suddenly, the crowd booed, alerting Zania. "What’s happening?"
Morrigan shook her head. "Those two are not trying hard enough to kill each other. The audience is requesting to release the beasts."
To Zania’s surprise, a fence rolled up to block the arch in front of her, then six huge tigers with saber fangs and scimitar claws, rushed into the arena. They attacked the two men at such speed that Zania barely saw the jerk of a broken neck and the spray of blood, before the beasts feasted on their victims’ entrails. Sick to her stomach, Zania resisted the urge to retch. Good thing she’d skipped lunch.
After the trainers coaxed the tigers back to their den, attendants raked the sand clean, and the announcer called the last fight. An anticipated battle between two Amazons. So that’s what Dakini meant by Zania being the star of the show. At the calling of her name, Zania went to the table to retrieve her long sword, her favorite weapon. As Morrigan helped her tighten her arm braces, Zania heard the name of her opponent. Dakini!
No wonder the Amazon queen was so smug. She’d perceived Zania as a threat from the very start and now she intended to kill her with impunity to solve her problem.
A glance at Dakini’s face as she walked to the other weapons’ table with the Gorgon, told Zania something fishy was going on. After picking up two labrys, the double edge axe of the Amazons, Dakini retired to the side with the gorgon. Facing the wall, she laid the weapons on the floor then knelt with the gorgon over them, hiding the weapons from view. Then the two women intoned an incantation while bending over the blades, contorting their bodies in strange ways.
"What in Olympus are they doing?"
"Wow!" Morrigan exclaimed. "I’ve never seen that before."
Apparently the guards didn’t object to women casting a spell on the weapons. Zania didn’t believe in curses. She made her own destiny, and although Dakini was a strong warrior, Zania intended to win.
Answering her cue, Zania entered the arena first. The spectators cheered her on. They probably remembered her victorious fight against Svend, her secret shame. At least, the confrontation with Dakini would be the real thing.
The sand felt good under Zania’s feet. She stopped in the center and turned around to face Dakini marching toward her. Somehow, Zania could feel Svend far behind her, watching. Who would he root for?
"Aries, God of War, give me strength," Zania repeated like a litany.
The smirk on Dakini’s face smacked of overconfidence. Zania could use it to her advantage. The memory of her first encounter with Dakini filled her mind. The beating had been cold, calculated, systematic. Now Zania would wipe that insolent smirk off Dakini’s face forever. Revenge would be sweet.
Before Dakini could strike, Zania attacked and forced her to defend herself. In this game, the attacker controlled the fight. Adrenaline flowed freely, heightening Zania’s excitement, sharpening her reflexes.
Not giving her opponent a chance to plan the next move, Zania kept charging. Running at Dakini, she found an opening and thrust. Barely avoiding the blade, Dakini made fast windmill circles in front of her with both labrys. If Zania tried to pierce through that moving shield of double edge axes, her thinner blade might shatter.
Although Zania had the longer reach, Dakini had two weapons, which meant that she could throw one at the appropriate time. And Dakini had a good aim. Eyeing both labrys warily, Zania ran fast circles around Dakini, imitating Svend’s strategy. If she kept moving, she would make a poor target. Dakini feigned a throw. Zania reversed her circle. When Dakini feigned again, Zania pounced and broke her defense, nicking Dakini’s thigh.
The crowd clamored. Zania imagined that the large screen above showed an instant replay in slow motion with a close up on the blood seeping from Dakini’s shallow wound.
The insolence vanished from Dakini’s face. Did she finally understand that Zania could win? The queen marched upon Zania with resolve, but Zania would not step back. She held her ground, countering quickly, avoiding the powerful blows of the labrys.
When Dakini stepped back, she looked worried but determined. "You won’t get out alive, upstart!"
Zania wouldn’t let words distract her. She focused on her next move and lunged. Dakini stepped aside, like a matador avoiding the horns of a bull, both labrys high in the air. As Zania finished her move and faced Dakini again, a labrys flew at her lower body. Zania leapt. Not quite high enough or fast enough. The Labrys grazed her right heel slightly. Too close.
She could feel the burn of the blade but knew the cut to be superficial. The crowd roared again. Were the spectators switching their bets? Dakini had lost one weapon.
Far from disappointed, Dakini grinned at the sight of Zania’s blood dripping on the sand. Instead of pushing her advantage, she seemed to stall, as if waiting. For what?
Zania closed the gap, but Dakini stepped back again. The burning sensation crept up Zania’s right leg. She tripped over her own foot and caught her balance just in time. It seemed her leg didn’t obey her anymore.
Zania switched her weight to the left leg. She could fight on one leg if needed. Poised, she waited for Dakini’s attack, but the queen only switched her labrys from hand to hand, staring with malevolence. "You are dead, upstart. You don’t know it yet, but you are already dead."
What did she mean? Suddenly the realization of foul play struck Zania. How could a tiny cut paralyze her entire leg? Only one answer. Poison.
But Dakini wouldn’t benefit from her evil deed. Zania charged awkwardly and tripped. Dakini avoided the blade and struck a blow in Zania’s shoulder that sent her to the sandy ground.
As the audience cheered, Zania realized with horror that she couldn’t get up. She barely managed to turn and lie face up.
"What did you do?" she asked, unbelieving, but the words came as a whisper.
"Why do you think my best friend is the gorgon?" Dakini’s dark eyes glowed with malevolence. "The venom of her snakes is turning you to stone."
As Dakini stood over Zania, she held her labrys high, but instead of dealing the fatal blow, she quickly sliced the blade over Zania’s throat, cutting only skin deep. "I don’t want you to die too fast. I want you to suffer as long as possible."
When Dakini rose in victory, the crowd yelled and applauded. Zania realized that they believed her dead. She couldn’t move her
neck or close her eyes. Her blood escaped to quench the sand, and the venom burned through her body, but she could hear and feel everything. Already dead, and yet alive...
Two guards seized Zania by the wrists and dragged her over the gritty sand to the Amazon hall. There, Morrigan rushed to Zania, tears in her eyes. She motioned everyone away. "Let me take care of her," she sobbed. "She belongs to me."
How Zania wanted to tell Morrigan she still lived, but she couldn’t move her mouth. It seemed obvious to all that she had died.
The other Amazons rejoiced for their queen. As an outsider, Zania had no friends here, except for Morrigan.
Morrigan carried Zania into the container and laid her apart from the dead bodies of the Amazons killed that day. Standing in the door, Morrigan shouted outside, "I’ll travel with the dead!" Not asking permission, more like a statement. "I volunteer to take care of them all. I’ve done it before."
No one contested her wish to do the grisly chore.
If the guards were too squeamish to deal with the dead, it made sense that the Amazons would care for the bodies of their sisters. Zania wondered how they disposed of them, then she remembered the piles of bleached bones out in the jungle from her televised briefing. They threw the dead in the jungle, to feed the wild beasts...
The irony struck Zania, that she might have found her escape route, albeit a little late. If the poison didn’t kill her outright, she would die a horrible death, mangled by fangs and claws, eaten alive...
Chapter Six
Lost in the burning pain that claimed her body, Zania barely noticed the sounds and motions of the container as it rumbled slowly on the noisy tracks. Back to the bunker? She dozed in and out of awareness. Each time she connected with reality, Morrigan’s face hovered above hers. Morrigan’s sobs filled the silence, Morrigan’s touch caressed her face. Morrigan would miss her most of all.
Somehow, Zania wished it were Svend crying over her loss.
Sometime during the train ride, Zania noticed a change in Morrigan’s attitude. She’d stopped crying and had a puzzled look on her face. "Why are you still warm? Your wounds are still oozing blood."
Zania wanted to answer but couldn’t.
"The other bodies are stiff already. Is your heart still beating?" Morrigan fumbled with the front laces of Zania’s leather bustier then applied her ear directly to her skin.
Zania dared to hope. Would Morrigan detect the faint signs of life deep in her chest? Would she recognize the weak beats of her heart, so slow and far apart? Would she notice the imperceptible rise of her shallow breaths?
Raising her head, Morrigan stared, wide eyed, into Zania’s face. "You are alive?" Frantic, she fetched her satchel and rummaged inside. "This elixir should fortify your strength." She brought a small vial to Zania’s lips.
Zania couldn’t swallow, so Morrigan propped her back against a crate, angled her head up, then poured the pungent liquid into her mouth. Zania could feel it crawl down her throat like molasses. What was it?
"I knew these two would try something foul." Morrigan observed the cut at Zania’s throat. "The edges are turning green. What kind of poison did they use?"
Morrigan let Zania down gently. Rolling a small blanket from her satchel, she set it under Zania’s head, then applied a poultice from a jar on the gash of her throat.
The burning sensation eased. How did Morrigan manage such miracles?
As if reading her mind, Morrigan said, softly, "You’re lucky I’m the healer of the tribe. The owners value their investment and I get the best natural remedies."
Morrigan carefully removed Zania’s bustier and sandals, checking for unseen wounds, then she rubbed the poultice on the cut of her heel before turning her over and applying the same medicine to the gash on her shoulder blade. "All superficial slashes. How could I miss it? None of these wounds are deadly."
Zania’s hopes mixed with doubt. The elixir might give her more time to live, but what where the chances that Morrigan would identify the poison fast enough? Even if she did, making anti-venom would take time, and Zania had little left.
Out of her satchel, Morrigan pulled needle and thread. "You have to fight it, Zania, please... The elixir will dull the pain and give you the strength to fight it yourself."
Patiently, Morrigan stitched the wound on Zania’s back. After reapplying poultice, she turned Zania over and sewed her throat. She applied more salve then bandaged all the wounds.
Morrigan rose and disappeared from view. When she returned, she held a leather vest with a high collar, and a pair of sturdy boots. "I got those from dead girls. I don’t think they’d mind."
The vest effectively hid the bandages as it covered more of Zania’s torso, and the studded collar hid the throat.
Morrigan pulled the boots on Zania’s feet, careful not to disturb the bandage on her heel. "Whatever poison this is, don’t let it kill you. You are the most stubborn woman I ever met. You can fight this. Don’t you dare give up."
Zania wanted to drift away. What did she have to live for? Really! Now that the pain subsided, she could just go peacefully to the next world. But what if the next world was just like this one? She’d always believed in the Elysian Fields awaiting the just in the afterlife, but she had died once before, in the desert, in battle, and look where she ended up.
"Stay with me, you hear?" Morrigan’s voice came muffled, from far away.
Then it occurred to Zania that she was a soldier. She could not just give up and die. She could not let the enemy win if she could help it. Two people in this foreign world had already risked their lives for her. If they thought her life worth saving, Zania must fight as well. If there were even a slim chance of survival, she must take it.
The squeal of the train wheels announced an imminent stop. Unable to brace herself, Zania rolled onto her side.
Morrigan stabilized her gently. "Don’t move or make a sound on the way to the body dump. I’ll be in big trouble if anyone finds out."
Move? No chance of that.
When the container door opened, Morrigan loaded the bodies on a metal cart, positioning Zania last, face up, on top of the heap. Then she wheeled the cart through the dreary passages, a short distance behind the group of Amazons and guards, judging by the sound of their footsteps.
Staring at the ceiling passing by, Zania wondered what Morrigan intended to do with her. She probably didn’t know about the cameras. She didn’t suspect guards were watching her, unseen. And Zania couldn’t warn her. She felt horrified at the thought that Morrigan would probably end up as tiger meat for trying to save her.
The footsteps of the guards and Amazons faded away as if they’d taken a turn. The cart still moved along the same corridor, and Zania noted with mounting alarm the cameras at every turn and intersection. Aries, God of War, please help your warrior in need.
"We’re almost there," Morrigan whispered.
As the cart stopped, a loud rumble, like Zeus’ thunder, shook the walls of the bunker. Earthquake! Fine dust fell into Zania’s dry eyes but she couldn’t close her lids. Another tremor made the lights flicker. This quake seemed stronger than the last one, two days ago.
The camera on the ceiling sparked and fizzled, then the lights went off all together.
"Quick!" Undaunted by the blackness and the shaking ground, Morrigan pulled Zania off the cart and carried her away, stumbling. Where? Zania had only seen an indent in the tunnel wall when the cart stopped. What hid there?
To Zania’s surprise, Morrigan kept walking in the dark then lowered her to the stone floor.
"I’ll come for you soon. Be quiet. Keep fighting the poison. I’ll see what I can do." Then Morrigan vanished, swallowed by the blackness.
The rumbling ebbed. Faint light returned, coming from the main tunnel, filtering through a metal grate high in the wall. Zania realized she lay in a small adjacent room, hidden from the main passage. How did Morrigan know of this space?
Zania heard the cart lurch on its wheels and resume its slo
w progress toward whatever place they called the body dump.
Had the power surge fried the camera covering this sector? Could it be that simple? Thank you, Aries, for taking care of your warriors. If I get out of here alive, I promise to erect a temple in your honor.
Now that the pain had gone, Zania felt exhausted. She wanted to sleep but her eyes would not close. Tears blurred her vision and rolled down her temples. In desperate need of strength, Zania relaxed and let her mind wander into the world of dreams.
*****
In the dream, Zania visited a white place flooded with blinding light. Around her, many other Zanias, welcomed her, smiling. Some looked older, some younger. They all looked slightly different. Some had short hair, some wore garish clothes from other places or other times. All of them warriors, they displayed scars from battles Zania couldn’t remember.
Were they figments of her imagination? Previous incarnations? Future incarnations? Or reflections from parallel universes? They could be different facets of herself. Zania didn’t get the meaning of the allegory, but she enjoyed their company.
Zania didn’t understand what they told her at first, but the message became clear. They wanted her to go back... back to the living. It wasn’t her time to die.
One looked like an Amazon with short hair. She touched Zania’s shoulder, exhibiting a ghastly scar on her left forearm and smiled sadly. "Be kind to Morrigan. Tell her I miss her. I’ll be waiting for her."
*****
A shiver shook Zania’s spine as she awoke. How disturbing! Was she still alive? Yes, she recognized her small refuge. She attempted to turn her head to see the other side of the room but failed. Her body remained paralyzed. Worse, the burning pain had returned.
Zania should feel glad to be alive, but life hurt more than the fires of Hades in the underworld. She wondered what the dream meant. It could only represent the ravings of a poisoned brain, although her mind seemed to function perfectly.
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