The Champion

by Taran Matharu

  “You’ll do as you are ordered,” Marius said. “Remember who’s in charge here, boy. These are my men. This is my keep. You’re just a guest.”

  “I’m about to risk my life for you,” Cade growled. “I’ve killed for you. I got you out of that hellhole you’d been in for years. You wouldn’t even be legatus without me.”

  Marius glared at Cade, mulling his words.

  “Aren’t we on the same team?” Cade asked. “Why do you treat me like an enemy?”

  Marius sighed and pulled Cade farther away from the men. He leaned in close, but the man’s anger seemed to have dissipated.

  “Atticus still has men loyal to him. Not as many as are loyal to me, but enough to risk another … leadership change. I cannot keep him as a prisoner—he has done no crime, after all. In fact, it is I who have.”

  Cade met his gaze and saw the hesitation in the man’s face. It was strange to see someone oscillate between virtue and tyranny. The mantle of leadership had fallen upon this young man’s shoulders, yet his only example over the last years had been Atticus himself.

  “I cannot change my mind. His followers accept that he was wrong to doubt you, but they have not turned against him. Allowing him to lead these men has allowed me to placate them. To go back on my word will weaken my position. And I am sure you do not want Atticus to return to power.”

  Cade knew he had no choice. He and Scott would just have to deal with it. He could only hope that Atticus would let bygones be bygones. But at the back of his mind, he knew he would never forget the sight of Quintus’s beaten body hanging on the rack in Jomsborg.

  “All right,” Cade said even as Marius tutted his impatience. “But you have to promise you’ll take care of my friends. Keep them safe from the others. Treat them with respect, as an example to your men.”

  Marius nodded and clasped his shoulder. “I will. You do your duty. Find us weapons.”

  Cade inclined his head.

  “Are we going to wait all day?” Atticus called, his Latin harsh in Cade’s ears.

  Marius turned his back, ignoring the show of disrespect.

  “Go,” he muttered. “Before this gets any worse.”

  Cade hurried away, only to find Grace frowning at him.

  “Another private parlay?” she asked, raising a brow.

  “I think we can all agree we don’t want Atticus leading the mission,” Cade said. “But Marius won’t back down. We’ll just have to make it work.”

  Grace grunted, then gave him a quick, unfeeling hug. “Good luck,” she said.

  The others crowded in, passing on their well wishes. Scott, apparently, had already said his goodbyes.

  Quintus took the longest, hugging Cade close.

  “If you do not come back,” he whispered, “I will find you.”

  Cade smiled and gripped his friend by the shoulders. “I’ll be back, my friend. You just keep the others safe while I’m away. I know they’ll be safe with you.”

  Quintus wiped a tear from his eye and nodded.

  “Cade,” Amber said. “Can we talk?”

  Cade felt a flash of anxiety. She had not been exactly cold to him the past few days, but she had not shown him any warmth either. Now, she took his hand, and after a few steps, drew him close.

  Her lips brushed his own before parting. It was enough to flood Cade with relief. Even now, with so much at stake, he found the greatest weight on his heart had been wondering if she still cared for him.

  Amber grasped his arms and looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears.

  “You’re different since the battle,” she said. “God knows you’ve been through so much. But…”

  She struggled to find the words, then hugged him close.

  “Just don’t forget who you are,” she whispered into his chest. “Stay my Cade.”

  Cade took her chin in his hand, staring into her brown eyes. He kissed her deeply, drawing her close.

  “I’m yours,” he said as they parted. “Now and forever.”

  “Stay safe, Cade,” she said.

  In that moment, she looked so fragile. He saw the care in her eyes and felt his heart twist with the knowledge he had lied to her. And would do so again.

  Then, before he could say another word, she walked back to the others.

  “They’re leaving without us,” Scott called.

  Cade shouldered his bag and gave the others a final wave. Then he was running, following the Romans into the jungles.

  CHAPTER

  40

  If Cade had expected some showdown with Atticus, he was much mistaken. The Romans moved at a blazing pace, and it was hard enough to keep up, let alone strategize how to deal with the ex-commander.

  Cade and Scott trailed the group, glad that this part of the jungles, populated primarily by monolithic sequoia trees, was sparse enough to see any incoming predators.

  It was like walking through an enormous, green-roofed atrium, one held up by rough-hewn pillars of wood. The ground was carpeted with moss and broad-leafed ferns, the only plants that could thrive in the dappled light that filtered through the leaves above.

  The earthy air was already filled with the trilling calls of the animals that lived in the trees, and the flitting of pterosaurs and other flying beasts could be seen above. Cade wondered if Zeeb had once glided through these very trees. He missed him.

  “They sure … can … run … can’t they,” Scott choked, his chest heaving as they jogged behind the Romans. “Glad … Yoshi … isn’t here.”

  Cade couldn’t help but agree. It amazed him how fast they were moving, for the Romans were running in full armor, the clatter of metal making them easy to follow. He had left his own at the keep, knowing the tight-fitting suit would only chafe and slow him down.

  Instead, he and Scott wore the padded clothing from their time in New Rome, with the metal-capped shoulders, elbows, forearms, knees, and shins. The only difference was, Cade’s had a second layer of golden spider silk, still there from his battle with the alpha.

  As for weapons, both carried only their swords, with Cade’s Honjo Masamune digging uncomfortably into his back beneath the rucksack. He did not dare stop to rearrange it, for fear of losing the group.

  He had underestimated these young legionaries, for they carried their heavy shields as well. Years of hard marching must have acclimatized them to such athleticism, leaving the modern boys in the dust. Had the Romans not been so encumbered, Cade had no doubt he and Scott would have been left far behind.

  It was some relief then when the sequoias began to thin out and were replaced by the heavy bush and branching trees of the jungles. Forced to cut a path ahead, the legionaries slowed, allowing Cade and Scott to catch up.

  For a while they breathed heavily, hands on their knees. Cade ignored the pitying, if a little derisive, looks from the legionaries and jogged to fall in line behind them.

  “We stick out like flies on a wedding cake here,” Scott muttered after a few minutes of trudging through the bushes.

  It was true. The legionary metal clanked with each step they took and glinted in the mottled light of the sun.

  Cade wondered if the segmented lorica armor would stand up against a carnosaur’s teeth. If a hyena could munch down a steel saucepan, as he had once learned on YouTube, he bet the armor was little better than the foil wrapper around a KitKat.

  Cade knew he would have to talk to Atticus about this, no matter the consequence. Without the armor, they would move faster, more quietly, and most importantly, less visibly. Best to do it now, while they could still stash the armor close to the keep.

  “Hey!” Cade increased his pace and shouldered his way through the ten legionaries. “Atticus!”

  The man was close to the front, directing two legionaries to hack through the vegetation with their gladiuses. Atticus turned at his name, and Cade almost staggered back at the look of pure hatred across his face. Yet it was gone as soon as it had come and replaced by a haughty sneer.

 
“Yes, pup,” Atticus said, the Codex translating in his ear. “What has you yapping?”

  “Translate back,” Cade instructed the Codex.

  There was no need to hide the Codex’s presence now, and it translated his next words in its robotic voice.

  “This armor will be useless against most of the predators here. It only slows us down and draws attention.”

  Atticus raised his brows, and to Cade’s surprise, considered his words.

  “Do you expect us to leave it in the muck?” he asked, raising his voice for the others to hear. “Armor we have carefully maintained for so many years. Armor that has protected us from the blades of the Tritons? Armor that will protect us again when the next round begins?”

  There was murmuring from the men, and Atticus spread his arms wide, then clapped his hands against his breastplate.

  “The pup feels naked without armor of his own. He wants us to be equally vulnerable.”

  “The noise will attract predators,” Cade said, speaking over Atticus’s final words. “I know you’ve heard of them. They’re like dragons, large enough to swallow you whole, and fast enough to catch you.”

  “… leave it in the dirt to rust,” Atticus went on, talking through Cade’s speech.

  Cade had already considered this conundrum. He held up his hands in peace. “We’re only a few hours away from our first camp—the prison ship.”

  Cade instructed the Codex to open the map and traced their route with his finger. Its appearance closed Atticus’s mouth—it was the first time he had seen it. He had been following a copied, hand-drawn map.

  “We can hide the armor there and collect it on the way back,” Cade went on, pointing to the blue dot.

  Atticus’s eyes bulged, and Cade remembered how he had lied to the man’s face about not having the Codex.

  “Would you oust me as leader of this group too?” Atticus hissed. “You are as Brutus, the usurper. Treacherous to your core.”

  Cade knew this could not continue. He had to find a way to work together with Atticus. So he did something that took the greatest of effort. He knelt.

  “Consider me a guide. That’s all.” Cade lowered his head in supplication. “I promise you. I’m only trying to win this game and get us all home.”

  He turned his head, speaking with as much feeling as he could muster.

  “Have I not fought beside you this whole time? What else do I have to do to prove I’m telling the truth?”

  More murmuring, too quiet or too garbled for the Codex to translate. But Atticus knew he had lost the argument. The legionaries, at least for now, were on Cade’s side.

  “March on,” Atticus called, leaving the decision hanging in the air. “We must reach the ship by nightfall.”

  CHAPTER

  41

  The ship was an empty hulk, one impaled through the trunk of a tree, leaving a gaping entrance in its side. They reached it as the sun set, following a desperate effort in the dusk light for fear of being stranded in the darkness.

  Their arrival was marred by the discovery of bones scattered about the ship’s exterior, and a gaping, empty skull at the entrance—the remains of men long dead, scavenged by the beasts of the forest.

  Now, Cade huddled with Scott at the back of the ship, disgusted by the rusted chains upon the walls. Some shackles still held human remains, and finger bones were strewn about the ground like game pieces. Cade tried not to think of the fate of the men who had been abandoned here.

  Tried … and failed. He saw it in his mind’s eye. Men chained to a wall and left to die of thirst, or be savaged, helpless, by whichever beast came across them. It reminded him of his time upon Ishak’s ship, and the memory made him shudder. But it was either that or the cold.

  The small campfire Atticus had allowed them to light was little comfort as the temperature dropped lower than Cade remembered it had on that long night in the slavers’ captivity, all that time ago.

  Their makeshift hearth was within the ship itself, its smoke drifting between the broken spars of the boards above, giving off meager light. It was too dark to see if there was anything worth salvaging—a musket perhaps, or some gunpowder.

  But Cade already knew it was unlikely the ship would house anything of value. The chains were rusted through—the vessel had likely been left here a century ago or more.

  “Pup,” Atticus called from the deepest recess of the ship. His face was illuminated by a tallow-fat candle, the only light other than the campfire, and that of the red moon above.

  “Don’t,” Scott muttered, clutching Cade’s arm.

  Cade pulled his fingers away gently, hushing Scott. In this dark, damp, lonely place, his friend had been drained of all his usual mirth.

  “We need to make peace with him,” Cade whispered. “If he’s planning revenge, he’s not exactly going to do it in front of his men, is he?”

  Scott sniffed, but there was no reply. Hunched, Cade crab-walked around the fire, down toward Atticus. He was suddenly acutely aware of the sword on his back and was glad of its presence. Regardless of what he had told Scott, he was scared of Atticus.

  This was a man who had kept his men alive for years, scratching out an existence on an alien planet, behind enemy lines. Cruel and paranoid as he was, there was no underestimating the man.

  “Atticus,” Cade said, crouching on his haunches.

  He did not come too close, for the man’s hand was hovering just above his hilt. Atticus had fallen far and must be desperate to volunteer for a mission like this. Desperate men were capable of anything.

  Atticus did not speak for a while, instead observing Cade in the wan light of the flickering candle. He steepled his fingers and leaned toward him.

  “We will not remove our armor tomorrow,” he said, then held up a finger as Cade began to argue. “We will not remove it, because the men are scared. Fear, pup, is our greatest enemy out here. A panicked man will run blindly, without thinking. And at the first sight of one of those beasts, they will panic.”

  Cade, to his surprise, saw the sense in the man’s words. False courage, though, was a fickle friend.

  “I have spoken with the men who ventured into this place,” Atticus whispered.

  He noted Cade’s surprised expression and smiled. “Oh yes. Not the men who have ventured as far as this. After all, only one man returned from the first expedition, and he died soon after. As for the second … well, they never came back at all. Now, we follow in their footsteps, and I am loath to repeat history.”

  “So who did you speak to?” Cade asked, the Codex translating his words over his shoulder.

  “The hunters. The men who bring in meat. They do not venture as far as we have. But they have seen enough. And of course, we’ve all heard the stories. I did not come out here with my eyes closed. I am not such an incompetent as you may believe.”

  Cade sat back on his haunches as he gained an understanding of the man. Still, these were just words. But he had seen Marius’s actions.

  “At Jomsborg you had your men form up even though they were injured and bleeding. That didn’t seem like good command to me.”

  Atticus sucked his teeth. “Discipline kept my men alive. Do you know how many succumbed to madness in that first year? Men killing one another over morsels of rotten insect. Others who would just stare and waste away, refusing to eat. You were not there in those dark days. There was no hope in that place. So I gave them fear instead.”

  “You had to be cruel to be kind?” Cade asked, then realized the Codex would not capture his sarcastic tone.

  “Correct. Do not mistake me. I know I was wrong about your weapon. But I was right that you lied to us, yes? That Codex was with you the whole time.”

  Cade conceded the point with an inclination of his head.

  “And Quintus?” Cade asked.

  Atticus shrugged. “I have done a lot worse for a lot less. If there was one chance that he could give us the Codex, I could not afford to miss it. And I was right about th
at too. It was the Codex that allowed you to make your gunpowder, was it not?”

  Cade bit his lip. There was guile in this man’s words. Yet there was a sick logic to his decisions too. What he had done to Quintus was unforgivable. Now though, Cade could understand why he had done it.

  “I am not perfect,” Atticus pressed on. “I have made mistakes. But it was the steel in my spine that kept us alive. It is easy to drag down those who stand strong above, holding back the darkness. Much harder to take their place, as Marius will soon learn. Do we have an understanding, pup?”

  He extended his hand, and Cade stared at it. Finch had held his hand out to him, back in New Rome, just like this. Then he tried to kill him.

  Cade took his hand.

  “Call me Cade,” he said.

  CHAPTER

  42

  They woke to the sounds of the jungle. Hoots, screeches, and deep lowing echoed through the hollow of the ship, a dawn chorus that greeted the broken sunlight of the morning.

  The soldiers were already outside, formed in a neat square of nine, with Atticus at the helm. But as Scott and Cade emerged from their shelter, they saw the legionaries looked quite different from how they had looked before.

  “Our guide, Cade, made an excellent observation yesterday about our armor,” Atticus announced. “So we have taken steps to correct that.”

  Their armor was smeared with mud so that the bright sheen was gone. Stranger still, the armor itself looked different, somehow bulkier, with patches of cloth poking from some of the gaps.

  “Sacking,” Atticus said, noting Cade’s confused expression. “Stuffed where the metal scrapes, to silence its noise.”

  Cade was impressed. Atticus had saved both his own and Cade’s face—while simultaneously demonstrating his willingness to listen to reason, something he had failed to do in Jomsborg.

  He couldn’t say Atticus did not learn from his mistakes.

  “So, Cade”—Atticus emphasized his name, though not unkindly—“are you ready to depart?”