Sadira spoke quietly. She then leaned forward and whispered in Flamina's ear. The Dancer laughed; she turned and pranced away, heading into the crowd.
“That girl has fast hands,” said Sadira. “Did she grope you too?”
“I thought you were going to flatten her,” said Gavin.
“She's not Karmal,” said Sadira. “You can't put someone like Flamina in her place through fighting. Beside my guess is that Valaran sent her to cause trouble. She has quite the reputation.”
“You'll have to explain that to me,” said Gavin. “Dare I ask what you sent her to do?”
“I told her that Giselle brought Tiber ul-Sala with her,” said Sadira. “Flamina won't be able to resist my old dancing instructor. Valaran will be pissed... As it is, she really just wound us up, ensuring a fun time after the party.”
Gavin raised his glass.
o-----
Much was said and done at the Masquerade, a whirlwind of activity as The Chosen and the Factions placed their next to last bets on which Gladiators had a chance at the Championships.
Karmal publicly spurned Chosen Giselle, making her availability clear. She left the fete with many invitations.
Azure Dream remained with the Blue Faction, but she did make her way into Giselle's circle. Sadira would need a new training partner, after all.
Amoura Vogue was dressed as a fox that night, and the deals she made were many. Her husband, Chosen Marius haunted the quiet places, playing his own role to the hilt.
o-----
While Sadira was occupied with Vintia and Azure Dream, Gavin made his way into the deeper parts of the lair. Having read the Chosen's accounts of the exploration of the lair, he knew he would find a grotto of statues if he ventured far enough. Apparently it was Plazmittrax's lust for art that had led the Dragon to attack the Chosen's relatives before The Reckoning, stealing the precious statues from the Dwarf's Hall of Ancestors. Imagine the Dragon's surprise that a Dwarf who survived The Reckoning would become a Chosen and seek redress centuries later. No one carries a grudge like a Longbeard, as they say.
He passed Shield-Splitter, his old rival from the Oasis on his way. He locked eyes with the massive Ogre and nodded. In the end, Shield-Splitter's destruction of Gavin on the fighting grounds had helped the Gladiator understand his own weaknesses. The nod was returned, politely; It was a nice change from the constant animosity of Karmal and Valaran.
The grotto was even more impressive than the pictures, drawings, and descriptions made it out to be. Gavin could see why the Chosen had decided to leave it intact, even leaving the precious statues of his own people where the Dragon had placed them. The whole room was lit by softly glowing crystals that threw off a warm light, reflected and magnified by a pool of clear water fed by several trickling waterfalls. The statues were placed about the pool in groups and alone. There were many different styles of sculpture represented; priceless works from famous masters stood alongside statues from lands lost to the Domains since The Reckoning, and not a few pieces whose origins were disputed. Each piece was so cunningly placed that the different styles seemed to complement each other and hinted at some deeper meaning. The effect was breath-taking.
Gavin lost himself among the statues, feeling like he was part of giant chess board. It was so rare that he had the chance to explore the things he read about. There were fewer people here, with only a pair of Grey-Robes keeping watch. There were no musicians or servers: music from the other rooms drifted into the grotto and mingled with the gentle sounds of the water. A small number of men and women swam about or lounged amorously in private corners.
Gavin was eventually drawn to a statue carved entirely of jade, a wondrously lifelike countenance of a warrior princess eternally poised on the verge of drawing her katana. The woman seemed so purposeful and sincere, her expressive eyes focused on the enemy before her. Her expression reminded Gavin of Sadira, as he saw her in his heart, as she might be one day, among The Chosen. It was there, lost in contemplation, that Chosen Giselle found him.
She studied Gavin for a moment. Among Gladiators Sadira's lover was rather unremarkable at first glance. He was handsome enough, but not nearly as beautiful as Tiber ul-Sula or as impressive as Valaran diVolcanus. There was something about his eyes though; they seemed deeper, more aware than those of most men. Gavin was a skilled defender, and his loyalty to Sadira was hard to question, even before Giselle had seen Flamina's failed attempt to seduce him. She could not help but admire how Gavin seemed to have made his way through the river of intrigue surrounding The Great Games unfouled, even more so than Sadira. He would make an excellent Chosen, but power went to the strong, not the good.
Gavin became aware of Giselle's presence when she wished it. To his credit, he did not turn to her immediately, overwhelmed by the force of her presence, nor did he attempt to ignore her petulantly, trying to show his strength. He finished his last thought and turned to her, meeting her eyes before bowing deeply.
“Hail and well met, Honoured Gladiator,” Chosen Giselle said. She favoured him with a friendly smile as he came out of his bow. “May I join you for a while?”
“The honour is entirely mine, Chosen,” Gavin responded formally.
Giselle looked into the Gladiator's eyes and some small part of her suddenly felt unworthy. She wished such petty intrigues were beneath her station. She hesitated, a tiny pause that only most perceptive of men would notice.
“This statue resembles our Sadira, does it not?” she asked. “She always seems poised on the edge of action. She cares little for the delights of my palace, despite the stories that the Arena Post prints about her.”
“Does that surprise you?” Gavin asked. He felt a warm sense of appreciation that the Chosen refuted the rumours about Sadira. She was putting him at ease.
“It does not,” she said. “I did not have a great desire for relaxation, beyond a hot bath and skilled hands after an afternoon on the fighting grounds, when I was a Gladiatrix. I can also see now that she has a great depth of feeling for you. I'm sorry I keep her from you Gavin.”
“But you feel the need to keep her close to protect your investment,” he said. “I understand.”
“Yes,” the Chosen said. “Sadira is an exceptional fighter. Save Valaran, she is the most likely to seize victory at the Grand Championships. If the two of them fight, she will overcome him. His weakness is that he looks on her as a prize, not a competitor. Foolish. The Grand Championship is an event of singular importance. The new Chosen will change the balance of power for decades, if not more. What that person decides to do with their power will reverberate throughout the land, setting the tone for all our people and even our enemies. The people flock to the new Chosen with a fervour we don't really understand. Perhaps it is part of the oath. If Sadira wins she may decide to start a crusade against the Wirn, or they may decide that her ascension is purposefully antagonistic and strike first. If Valaran wins he will promote a different agenda, freeing the Gifted at the expense of the Ungifted. The stakes are high, and Sadira has already faced at least one attempt on her life. We cannot afford to risk her.”
“Because aside from her own dreams and plans, she will feel obliged to help you with your own designs,” he said. He felt petulant saying it when the Chosen was showing him such great respect, but he needed to get it off his chest. “You motivations are not entirely altruistic.”
Giselle laughed. The corners of her eyes crinkled.
“Sadira's right,” said the Chosen. “You are too solemn by half, Gavin. But what you say is true. In fact it is the essence of The Great Games as far as I am concerned. When a Chosen is crowned victorious on the bloody sands of the Grand Arena, every one of her supporters, from the lowest Faction member who followed her to the highest Chosen who gave her patronage, is rewarded. I gave my vote in the Council of The Chosen loyally, for many years to the causes of my backers. My fans and supporters were given land and other gifts when I carved my Domain. Their descendants are rich and prospero
us because they invested in me and I returned the favour. Yes, I support Sadira because it will further my own ends. I use my power to open doors for her because it will benefit me, and the causes I champion, in the end. Others will try to harm her to make sure their designs are the ones that go forward. It may sound crass, but that sense of obligation and return on support is key to our society.”
Gavin nodded, waiting for the Chosen to continue.
“But there is more to it than that, Gavin,” she said. “The Great Games aren't really about Gladiators fighting for dominance and glory in the arena. For most people it is a chance to escape their troubles and see greatness blossom, to see the arrogant punished, and to see the things that they fear dragged out onto the sands and conquered. For many of the Chosen it is about the intrigue, the chance to settle old scores, maybe even the desire to alleviate the boredom of a long century. When I accepted Sadira as my protégé I put her in grave danger.”
“Your enemies became her enemies,” he said.
“Yes,” she said. “And there are those among them who would see her destroyed, for no other reason than to humiliate me. It is the same with any Chosen. It may seem mad to you Gladiator, but power accentuates people's worst qualities in this regard. The mighty will often go to great lengths for the pettiest of reasons.”
Gavin chuckled in spite of the seriousness of her tone. “It's not surprising, Chosen. I frequently observe that kind of behaviour in some of my peers.”
“You are thinking of Karmal?” asked Giselle. She sat down on a smooth ivory bench, intricately carved to resemble a dragon.
“Among others,” said Gavin.
“I did not expect Sadira to be so lenient towards her friend,” said the Chosen. “It is now obvious to me that Karmal has been looking for an excuse to turn against Sadira for years. I had thought to turn them into a strong team, but Karmal is has grown ambitious beyond my ability to control. I missed some key element in my analysis of her. She dabbles in darker disciplines now, heedless of the price of such power. I will be glad to be rid of her, but I cannot convince Sadira that she is a danger.”
“Sadira sees Karmal as she was, not as she is,” said Gavin. His sadness was written on his face. “No amount of reason from you or I will force her to change her opinion. The same strength of will and boundless loyalty that will make Sadira a great Chosen are sometimes a weakness. Karmal is vain, but she isn't stupid: she will try to exploit that.”
“I agree,” said Giselle. “I've warned Sadira of that myself. As you say, we can only plant the seeds and watch them grow.”
Gavin frowned, puzzled, but the Chosen did not notice. After a moment she looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. He felt a shiver run down his spine, as if plunging into cold water.
“I did not seek you out simply to discuss Sadira,” she said. “I know better than to try to use you to manipulate your beloved. However, others might be willing to try: I am afraid that someone will use you against her, Gavin. I have an offer I want you to hear...”
“I can take care of myself,” he cut her off, rudely. To his surprise she betrayed no reaction.
“Come, live with Sadira at my palace,” said the Chosen. “You can join my personal Gladiators, fight in the grand arena at Brightsand halls, train with Sadira. You can help me keep her safe.”
The Chosen's offer struck Gavin like a blow. It was everything he wanted, and all he had to do was put himself under her protection. He would be near Sadira! They could finally be together. He could be of such help to her. It was perfect. Yet he could not bring himself to accept. Giselle watched him; her depthless eyes seemed sad.
“I can't,” he said. His own words pained him.
“What do you hope to prove, Gavin?” she said. “Do you think you have a chance at being selected for the Grand Championships?”
“Even you cannot see all ends, Chosen,” he said. Curiously he did not feel defiant. Nor did he sense that the famously caustic Chosen was mocking him. He had chosen his path and intended to see it through as best he could. “Your offer honours me and I can feel its wisdom. But I cannot bring myself to accept. Perhaps it is not the victory that I seek, but the striving. I must find my own path.”
“A noble sentiment,” said Chosen Giselle. She shook her head, but did not seem surprised or even insulted by Gavin's rejection. In truth she admired his heart. “My offer stands, Gavin. The Games will get much tougher now. You already know the price of virtue in the arena. As we get closer to the Grand Championships people will risk more and more to win. I do wish you luck. It might be nice to see a dreamer win.”
Chosen Giselle looked at the statue one more time, and then bestowed a smile on Gavin.
“Consider my Domain open to you, Gladiator,” she said, “to visit or to stay. I will not stand in the way of your love this time.”
Then she turned and walked away, leaving Gavin to digest their conversation.
o-----
“Red Scorpion, I presume?”
Sadira turned to find herself face to face with a tall, white-haired man with bright eyes and a broad smile that showed perfect, glittering teeth. Despite his hair and patriarchal features he seemed to be one of the Gifted. A stunning woman dressed in butterfly wings, a matching mask, and little else hung off his arm. He looked familiar.
“I am. My friends call me Sadira,” she said, smiling. She noticed several passersby turning to watch the exchange. This was a meeting of significance “Have we met before?”
“I am Gaius Gerald White,” he said. His voice got louder as he announced his name. “My reputation precedes me, no doubt.”
“It does,” said Sadira, stiffening in anger. Gaius Gerald White was a commentator and publisher who owned the famed Arena Post; his paper frequently and gleefully reported baseless rumours of Sadira having affairs with other Gladiators; and debasing herself at orgies in Chosen Giselle's palace. It was not the nature of the accusations that angered Sadira; she wasn't embarrassed about sex. It was that they were lies. She was proud of her love for Gavin, and proud of her self-control in staying true to him. “Are you here to apologize Mr. White?”
“Oh, meow,” said White, laughing as Sadira's eyes raked him. The woman on his arm however, sensed the anger of the Gladiatrix and paled. “If you wanted to stay out of the public eye you should have become a vassal.”
“Really?” said Sadira. “If vassals were exempt from your drivel, then why did you publish that crap about Lina? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“My sources are reliable,” said White. He was enjoying the confrontation. “Come now, we all know what pleasures can be found in Chosen Giselle's little harem. Is it true than you train in the nude?”
“Fuck you,” said Sadira. Her hands balled into fists; anger was getting the best of her. “Speaking of orgies, I hear you are a frequent guest of Chosen Silvius yourself.”
“I am a private citizen,” said White “Watch your tone Gladiatrix or I will bring you before the courts for slander. We aren't in Brightsands. Is it true that you personally body-sculpt all your lovers? I hear Tiber ul-Sula has a huge-”
“Gaius, darling!” Amoura's voice was honey sweet. The man's attention snapped to the voluptuous vixen. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Amoura, you look brilliant in that dress,” said White. Sadira felt relief wash over; she realized that her fists were clenched. Amoura winked at her as she led White away. Sadira smiled back; once again she was glad that she had seen past the vapid image that Amoura presented to people like White and made friends with the woman.
o-----
Gavin caught site of Lina just as the Golden giant confronted her. Valaran dwarfed his former servant, but she did not flee, and so Gavin watched, waiting to see if his friend would need help.
“Be careful with that bird, girl,” said Valaran. “That phoenix is worth more than your life.”
“That bird is mine, sir,” said Lina. Her voice sounded small and weak to her own ears, with her former maste
r looming over her. Memories of his cruel treatment surfaced. Perched on her hand, the phoenix began to glow softly. With tremendous effort Lina raised her chin and met Valaran's eyes. “A gift from my mistress, who values my services quite highly.”
“So I've heard,” he said. “If you'd shown me the same considerations, perhaps I would have kept you.”
“Don't believe everything you hear honoured Gladiator,” said Lina. “I serve Sadira freely, as a friend and assistant. I am not sure that is what you would desire.”
“Excuse me,” said Omodo. He brushed past Valaran with barely a glance. Lina was amused to see Valaran's shock; she had never realized that Omodo was bigger than the Golden Giant. “Lina, I've been meaning to ask you to dance. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Nothing at all, Omodo” said Lina, smiling. “Let's be off shall we.”
Gavin watched as Lina led Omodo towards the music. Valaran scowled, shaking his head as he stalked off. Gavin tried not to smile too broadly.
o-----
“So you're joining the Bright Company?” asked Ravius.
“Well technically I'm joining the Ninth Legion,” said Vintia. “The Bright Company is Chosen Brightloch's name for the whole expedition. The Ninth is being reformed and will be sent with the expedition after some training.”
“He seemed very excited about it,” said Gavin. Chosen Brightloch had been busy soliciting the veterans for their assistance. He had even asked Gavin. The Ninth legion needed Warbound to fill out its ranks. The Chosen was also being allotted additional Hearthbound due to the distance he would have to travel to establish his Domain. Brightloch was every bit as charming in person as he was said to be; affable and dazzling. His enthusiasm for the venture was contagious. Had it not been for unfinished business, Gavin would have joined him in a heartbeat. After all, he had always dreamed of escaping the confines of the Domains. Strange that it held less appeal to him now. “Imagine, sailing around Sudra and making the crossing to lost Ithal'duin,” he continued.
Domains of the Chosen 02 Bloodlust: Will to Power Page 16
