Domains of the Chosen 02 Bloodlust: Will to Power

by C. P. D. Harris

  Sadira paused at a few shops, a Gunsmith and Bladesmith, asking to examine various weapons that caught her eye. This seemed to earn some approval from the merchants, normally a Blue Faction crowd, although it made Cleothera nervous.

  The Grand Market of Krass is a multi-tiered bazaar and public forum. The crowd gathered here was immense and varied, a tapestry of the Domains and its allies. Painted human and Tauran tribals from the Brighthoof Plains, leather clad hunter-lords from the Trapholds, traders from Emerald Cove and the Far Isles wearing colourful silks, and so many others. All of these erupted into raucous cheers as Sadira came among them. A small army of City Watch and Legionnaires kept order. This was the largest crowd they would pass through until the end of the parade.

  Gavin scanned the crowd, catching the patterns and evolutions among the dress and customs he saw. Despite sharing one language and one point of origin, the people of the Domains were tending to diversity. He could see the influence of The Chosen. The merchants of Volcanus, for example, tended to dress in black and gold and painted their faces white, a somber imitation of their lord. The people of the Trapholds wore furs and leather despite the heat. The Dunlanders dressed in sombre colours like Chosen Mordhawk, both men and women dressing in outfits that matched those of their mates.

  Standing with forlorn dignity amidst the cheering crowds, was a cadre of green clad Armodons and Minotaurs, Gavin's eyes immediately picked out Ravius, smiling. He recognized Delph, Omodo's friend and helper, Green Sting, Silver Rose, and Thunder Blossom. The Greens stood straighter when they saw him and waved even more green clad figures forward. His eyes misted as he made out the faces of old friends and rivals, and the ranks of the Hammerhorns. They lifted banners.

  The green cloth of the banners unfurled. It was a replica of the banner they had used in Dun Loryn, the colours under which they had won, the colours for which Omodo had died. And just like that, Gavin was drawn in again, caught in the gravity of The Great Games.

  Sadira felt a pang of sorrow from Gavin, raw and deep. Her hands involuntarily felt for her swords as she turned.

  A ripple of alarm went through the crowd as Gavin freed his broad-blade war-spear from its peace-bond. Captain diAuran stepped towards him but Cleothera put a hand on the taller woman's shoulder.

  Gavin snapped his spear in salute. He felt the weight of expectation wash over him. He knew what he had to say.

  "HAMMERHORN!" he shouted; the sound seemed to well up from a great depth within him. He could almost see Omodo, hale and proud, standing among the crowd.

  "HAMMERHORN!" The Greens returned his salute, shouting with him.

  Sadira joined her voice to theirs and soon the whole market resounded with shouts of "HAMMERHORN!"

  Delph stepped across the barrier, banner in hand. A Legionnaire made to stop him, raising his lightning wreathed truncheon, but hesitated when he saw the pride and anguish in the Tauran's face. It was a look he was too familiar with, and his ire died. Silence spread over the crowd, pregnant with expectation.

  The Daeri Homeguard and Captain diAuran stood poised to strike, watchful and deadly.

  Gavin walked forth to meet Delph, clasping his hand. They both smiled and Delph unfurled a smaller banner and handed to Gavin.

  "For your spear," he said. His voice was barely a whisper and yet his words were picked up and carried by those who listened, conveyed through the vast crowd.

  "Thank you, brother," Gavin, affixing the small banner with the heraldry of Dun Loryn and a stylized icon of an Armodon triumphant to his spear. It required an effort to keep his hand from trembling.

  "We tried, Lionfang" Delph choked, then squared his shoulders "We tried to get you in to the Championships. You came so close... we failed. I'm sorry."

  Gavin shook his head. He saw where this would go. In the eyes of the people, who love the drama of The Great Games more than anything, he had become part of the narrative, an under-rated Gladiator who had somehow held his own against the Golden Giant, their best chance against the tyranny of Valaran. He could feel the story rippling through the crowd, spreading like a strange disease. It fit too well, and he wondered if he detected unseen hands behind it, perhaps the manipulations of The Chosen. He looked around hoping to see Ravius, but his old friend was lost in the crowd, a ghost like Omodo.

  "The fault was mine, Delph." said Gavin. "I didn't finish the job last time Valaran and I met. Tell the others that I am honoured that you all worked to get my name so high on the Grand Champion's lists. Give them my thanks. Omodo would have been proud of you."

  Delph nodded. He could sense the weight of Gavin's words. They clasped hands once more and Gavin turned to Sadira, lifting his banner-spear in salute to her before they began moving forward once again. For her part, Sadira beamed, enjoying the unfolding events greatly.

  The procession passed along the docks of Krass, where Gavin used to watch the tall ships come and go from his window at the orphanage before he was taken away. It seemed dirtier to him now, a little less grand, but far more lively. Sadira flirted and bantered with dock-hands, sailors, and shipwrights, charming them all.

  More than a few of these noted Gavin's banner as he passed in her wake. He could have sworn he heard a few whispers of 'Hammerhorn', now and then.

  On the water, past the harbour forts, a mighty ironclad fired its guns in salute as Sadira paused to greet the Marines assembled in front of the Naval yards.

  From there they descended into East Shallows, a crowded section of the great city, where the streets were narrow and shaded by the towering tenements built therein. These huge buildings were a relic of the days when the great storms of The Reckoning battered Krass and space within the walls was at a premium. The city's engineers had been forced to raze the worst sections of the old city and drain unused sections of harbour, building tall warrens simply to house the growing population; expanding beyond the walls at that time was impossible. East Shallows housed a million and a half people; it was a marvel of ingenuity and adaptability, but it was not a pleasant place.

  The narrow streets were thick with people, the working poor who laboured in warren farms and nearby manufactories. Many of them wore red, and they cheered Sadira with wild abandon. She returned their ardour with gusto, putting on a grand display of arms.

  They crossed a bridge, ascending into Portside. Here the streets were broader and the buildings far newer. Portside was the manufacturing centre of modern Krass, specializing in fine goods for trade with outlying Domains. The nigh ceaseless flow of products was stopped for the day, and the great steam-stacks no longer belched, as worker and owner alike lined the street to watch the Champion's Parade.

  The crowd varied here, but they still greeted Sadira with great enthusiasm. Several proud workmen and owners proudly displayed their wares to the Gladiatrix. She showed enthusiasm and patience, even though most of the goods were not of personal interest to her.

  They ascended a long winding street to High Park, a nature preserve in the centre of the city, which had once been a massive military complex, razed and re-purposed five hundred years after The Reckoning. The park was surrounded by huge, expansive houses with perfectly manicured grounds.

  The crowds here consisted of the very wealthy and influential: merchants, high bureaucrats, Faction leaders, and the most successful Free Gifted as well as a small army of servants and private security. For the most part, they showed only polite enthusiasm for Sadira, who was considered crass and unrefined in such circles. A few children and women however, were unabashed fans, and the Gladiatrix noticed that her body certainly drew the heated gaze of the upper crust males if not their fan support.

  Gavin exchanged a look with Cleothera. As orphans they had spent their early lives in state run orphanages, dreaming of adoption into one of the grand mansions by the park. The houses looked small to him now, despite their opulence.

  The broad avenues of High Park connected them to the Triumphal Way, the great road that bisected the city leading to the West Gate, be
coming the Great Western Way, which cut across the Empire as it did the city.

  The Triumphal Way was an ancient trade road, older than much of the city, some say dating back to the First Empire, a part of history bordering on the mythical. It was broad, wide enough to march a legion in formation, and flat, made of runed stones that exhibited no signs of wear. Grand statues of The Chosen and a host of noteworthy citizens lined the sides of the road, looking down on crowds of people from all over the city. Great arches straddled the road, celebrating the many military triumphs of the Domains. The arches had been repaired for the parade, and the scenes on them drew the eye with visions of war and victory. Gavin doubted if the real battles had been half as glorious.

  The towering forms of the Grand Arena, the Assembly of the Covenant, and the Hall of The Chosen loomed out of Bastion Hill at the end of the Triumphal Way, surrounding their eventual destination.

  Sadira was frustrated by this part of the parade. She was but one woman, tiny in the middle of a street meant for hundreds, and she felt less connected to her fans here. She paused frequently to salute them, drawing grand cheers despite the distance.

  The passed through an ancient inner wall and into Old Town, the seat of the aristocracy of Krass before The Reckoning. Stately palaces draped with ivy lined the way. They were not as bright or expansive as the great manses of High Park, but age lent them a certain decadent dignity. Many of the buildings were now used by the public, as lesser assemblies, museums, and schools. Some, however, were still occupied by noble-blooded families who had managed to keep their influences as the Empire changed, living lessons in will and foresight.

  Nearer their destination they passed the Faction houses. Red and Blue stood on opposing sides of the way, forever confronting each other. Their colours were bright, and the crowds in front of each competed with each the other, and the huge roar coming from the parade square half a mile away.

  The lesser assemblies and the Legion hall were next. The Legionnaires of two full legions raised their swords to Sadira and she returned their salute.

  By now the noise from the parade square ahead was deafening, monstrous and compelling. The crowd was a great beast made of uncounted thousands of individuals acting as one, a shifting sea of colour and noise, cheering the forty-nine Champions assembled before them. An empty place in the middle of the grand stage was reserved for Sadira.

  The Hall of The Chosen was the tallest of the three buildings, a thick shaft of polished obsidian thrusting from the earth. It had been raised by magic, a living reminder of the mystic potency of The Chosen. A small but opulent building stood atop the black tower, the Hall where The Chosen met. There was a garden surrounding the Hall at the summit, with bright flowering trees that bloomed even in winter, their petals carried by the unfettered winds at such a height. Only the great lighthouse in the harbour competed with the Hall of The Chosen for height.

  The Assembly of the Covenant was a bulky, imposing building. The centrepiece of this edifice was a tremendous dome, supported by columns, looming over the massive temple-like front facade. It had been built on the site of the old religious buildings, all of which had been over-run and built into the sprawling structure. The outside was made entirely of white marble. Gavin could just make out the Oathstone of the Covenant itself, set in a small dip in front of the massive assembly, symbolism clear to all. The power emanating from the stone was incredible, an ancient weave that defied his understanding.

  The Parade Square was immense, capable of holding an entire army, including troops and war-machines. Gavin had heard that over a million people were gathered here for the parade, but the size of the crowd simply defied his understanding. The noise of the cheering as they marched towards the grand stage in front of the arena was something he felt in his bones more than heard.

  A few green banners caught Gavin's eye, and a premonitory shiver ran down his spine.

  The Arena itself loomed behind the other seated Champions. A huge curved building, often called the People's Palace, it was made up of row upon row of arches, stacked seven stories high. Sadira's heart soared as she gazed upon the Grand Arena with a lover's eyes. She felt a small stab of regret from Gavin, who had never experienced the joy of fighting there, but she knew her feelings would carry his away this time, and she felt no guilt.

  Sadira could feel the eyes of the other Champions upon her as she walked towards the stage. She slowed her pace, her unhurried swagger becoming a demonstration of dominance. Azure Dream grinned while she watched, while Karmal sneered openly. Valaran looked on with a mixture of lust and hatred.

  Sadira did not move towards the stairs. Instead she walked directly towards her position on the stage, at the centre of her rivals. Gavin walked with her, and already this irregularity drew murmurs from the crowd. The people of Krass loved drama, and as the great Gladiatrix approached the stage, halting and turning towards the ocean of people, they held their breath.

  Sadira bowed low to the people, drawing their attention while Gavin walked behind her and raised his shield, holding it high above his head with both hands. As she came out of her bow, Sadira planted her feet and sprang into the air, kicking her feet above her head and flipping onto Gavin's waiting shield. Her swords ripped free of the peace bonds as she landed, raising them in a glorious salute. Gavin held her steady, as always, a fact that warmed her nearly as much as the explosion of cheering that followed her stunt.

  Gavin's raised shield happened to be conveniently placed and Sadira stepped off onto the stage, taking her place among the Champions.

  "Grandstanding whore," muttered Karmal from beside her.

  Sadira laughed, letting the people of Krass answer for her.

  o-----

  Chosen Giselle's private box was situated amidst the lowest level of seating close to the main Gladiator's entrance. She retracted the roof of the box, letting the sun shine down and the people see her. Gavin watched Sadira's matches as a guest of The Chosen.

  Giselle wore her Gladiator's armour and carried her old weapons to each match. Gavin knew that The Chosen had more potent weapons and glorious armour at her disposal, but she still loved the arena and wore her old gear to feel closer to her past as a competitor in Great Games.

  Sadira's rambunctious clan was given special seats for each of her matches, as were the friends of the family for each Grand Champion. Gavin preferred to sit with The Chosen since the high pitched shouts of Sadira's sisters could nearly match her war-screams and quickly gave him a headache. Candy and Dolly, Sadira's rescues from Dregs joined the family, close to the action. Lina sat with Gavin and Giselle.

  Gavin also suspected that The Chosen wanted to keep an eye on him. She too, could sense something astir in the mood of the citizens of Krass.

  Sadira's first match came at dusk on the second day of the Championship. The roar of five hundred thousand spectators as she entered the arena was simply staggering, even louder than her reception on the parade ground. Gavin felt as if he was sitting an erupting volcano, which, combined with the pure joy he felt through their bond, swept him away. He found himself on his feet, shouting her name like a madman, Chosen Giselle's amplified voice joining his. As the trumpets sounded they both sank back into their seats breathless and elated.

  Sadira's opponent in this match was none other than Hummingblade, a Gladiatrix familiar to Gavin from several matches and a brief liaison with Ravius. Hummingblade's attacks were swift and disciplined, but she underestimated Sadira's willingness to take a hard blow, and lost in the second round when Sadira took a brutal thrust through her right breast and kept coming, dropping one sword to grab the smaller woman. Gavin felt a pulse of savage elation as his lover he had the Quickling swordswoman still and rammed the point of her own blade home. He left, on his way to the baths to meet her before the announcer called her victory.

  o-----

  Valaran invoked Ut Nex in both his first and second match, viciously butchering one of his opponents almost immediately, and then slaying the oth
er after a long fight. Many of capital linksheets hailed the Golden Giant's return to true form, while others decried his behaviour. Gavin thought often of how he would like to face his enemy once again.

  o-----

  Sadira's second match of the Championship was a gruelling fight against Iron Ox, a hulking heavy-armoured Minotaur defender. Ox carried a tremendous tower shield with a spiked boss and a heavy, long hafted mace. Gavin joined Chosen Giselle once again to watch the match, joined by Nix and Gloria, two of Sadira's sisters.

  Iron Ox proved to be a skilled elementalist, drawing blood from Sadira with several well cast Razorwind spells, but the Bloodthirsty Gladiatrix answered in kind, tripping up her massive foe with verdant tendrils, spraying him with thorns, and sneaking in some clever swordplay as she danced past Ox's near perfect shield-play.

  "Practising with you has made her the bane of every shield-man out there," commented Chosen Giselle.

  Gavin smiled. "Even in training Sadira has always sought out the toughest matches," he said. "That's why she's the best."

  "Her newest training partner pushed her hard," said Giselle, referring to Deathcat. "I do approve of turning defeated enemies into friends, although that one surprised me."

  Sadira did not bring Iron Ox down, but she scored two telling blows. One was a vicious thrust that left the Minotaur visibly limping for most of the match, and the second was a daring, flashy tumbling attack that left a great line of blood on his back. Gavin felt this second attack was not as damaging as it seemed. The crowd awarded Sadira with a victory by appeal and Iron Ox raised her aloft on his shield, showing magnanimity in defeat.

  Sadira's third match was a brutal, bloody fight against Finn the Red-Handed, a monstrous muscular Berserker. She went toe to toe with the man clashing with him in a furious exchange of blows. The sands ran red, and Gavin's heart leapt into his throat when Finn lopped Sadira's left arm off at the elbow. The crowd gasped. Sadira, ignoring the pain, aimed the spray of blood into Finn's face, blinding him as she sidestepped his next attack and nearly removed his head with a vicious slash. Gavin fell back into his chair, dizzy with relief