by T. C. Edge
Gwyn nodded, eyes set on her target.
“Gecko, the big man’s yours. He’s strong, but slow. Use your speed, and see if you can get him near the walls. Use them to get up high above him, and strike.”
Gecko smiled. As yet, they’d been fighting quite centrally, denying him the chance to wow the crowd with his wall-crawling pyrotechnics. Now was his chance.
“I’ll handle the other one,” Kira finished. “He’s skilled with throwing weapons, so watch your backs. I’ll keep him busy and finish him quick if I can.”
She glanced around, and saw that there was no one else standing, the sand now littered with nearly a hundred dead bodies. She didn’t properly take in the massacre. She couldn’t. Not now, not with more work to do.
“OK, they’re waiting for us,” she said, staring at the three men ahead. “Let’s not disappoint them.”
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her allies nod. But this time, they didn’t look at each other for support. All held expressions of total conviction. They’d defeated all-comers. Now they were at the final hurdle.
Led by Kira, they began moving forward. The crowd, which had hushed as they awaited the final battle, suddenly began to simmer with anticipation once more. The noise was brewing, and filling Kira with a fresh surge of energy. Her eyes swept forward, zooming across the sand, inspecting the final combatants with a surgical eye and watching for any sudden movements.
As they neared, Kira whispered to her friends.
“OK, Gecko go left, Gwyn go right. Draw your opponents away. Let’s divide and conquer. On my mark.”
She began counting down from three, and felt her allies fill their lungs.
“Three…two…one,” she hissed. “GO!”
Immediately, the two of them split, Gecko scurrying off to the left as the big man opposite followed him with his eyes. Gwyn went the other way, and the dancer pranced after her. Kira stood her ground, and setting her scimitars to their sheaths, she stealthily drew two throwing knives from the back of her belt. She was running low now. She’d need to make them count.
Ahead, her opponent stood firm. His eyes shot left and right as his own team dispersed, and the sudden, explosive roar of the crowd momentarily clanged through Kira’s head. She winced, but kept her eyes on her foe, and saw that he, too, was pulling knives from his straps.
Then, in quick motion, he flicked one right at her, and it came surging like a bullet through the air. It caught the light of the sun as it passed, and the sudden flash wasn’t lost to Kira’s unrivalled visual acuity.
She saw the knife coming, and weaved beneath it as it swept through her red hair. She flung her head back as it passed by, swishing the tousled strands from her eyes, and unleashed both of her own blades at once, firing them off like an automatic pistol, one straight after the other.
Swish, swish.
They flew high and low, one heading for the man’s neck, the other his abdomen. He was just far enough away to slide to the side in time, the low blade glancing off his extremity and pitching into the sand, the other continuing straight for the wall and sticking fast in the stone.
But his focus was momentarily lost, and by the time he looked back at Kira, she was dashing upon him, so fast he could barely prepare for her arrival. Again, he had just enough time to draw his sword, and as her unsheathed daggers came calling, he began parrying and weaving just beyond her grasp.
Kira battled the man with a smile on her face, and for a moment forgot all about her friends. He was the first to offer her proper challenge, the only one, perhaps, among these lowly warriors to test her limits. And she knew she needed them tested.
Because if she was to get through this, she’d be facing far more potent threats in single bouts just like this. This was a warm-up to her, a good dress rehearsal for the real thing. And though it might have been arrogant to think it, she knew she had this man’s number as soon as she stepped before him.
Her speed was a little too great for him to contend with. And her eyesight saw his blows coming before he even considered sending them. She could hear his heart-beat drumming inside his chest, and his rate of breathing too, his lungs working hard to fill and empty and send fresh oxygen through his blood.
She listened carefully to the scuffing of his feet in the sand, and felt the movement of the air around his body as he swung and sent his blade towards her. It was a skill she’d developed over many years; the ability to know exactly what someone might do before they actually did it.
And though he was a fine warrior, she quickly began to work him down and work him out. It was time for her to end this.
She began to wind up for the big finale, but as she did so, she heard a blood-curdling scream filter through the air. Her eyes swung right, and close to the wall she saw Gecko suspended in the air, his neck locked tight in the giant’s grip, and his sword-wielding arm being stretched and torn from his body.
Her eyes flared, and she quickly reached to her belt, pulled a knife, and flung it straight for the gigantic gladiator. It hunted the man down, but just missed the intended target of his neck, slicing right into his meaty shoulder instead. He roared, and with that bellow, he snapped Gecko’s neck and dropped him straight to the ground.
Kira saw her ally fall in a heap, and knew immediately that he was dead.
Pulling the knife from his shoulder, the colossus tossed it to the floor right by Gecko’s lifeless body. He began marching at Kira with a snarl on his face, blood now cascading down his arm. She took a step back to give her space, turning her eyes on the man she’d been fighting. He stepped back too and waited for his ally to join him, the two now preparing to strike together.
Her overconfidence, she realised, might just have been premature.
Not too far away, she could hear the other two in combat, giving one ear to their battle to ensure the white-haired man didn’t attack from the rear. As yet, Gwyn was still holding him off. She couldn’t be sure how long that would last or who was in the ascendancy.
Her other ear and both her eyes, however, now turned on the two men before her. There was no time for games anymore. She needed to take one of them out fast and then focus on the other. Fighting on two fronts was never advisable.
They came at her together, trying to catch her off-guard. That wasn’t possible, though, not with her. She swept backwards, ducking through the big man’s blows, drawing and slicing with her daggers in a single motion as she went. It was purely a defensive move, but she managed to draw some blood from his calf, weakening him just a little.
She slid to a stop in the sand, and the giant lumbered straight back at her. He heaved with several swings of his mighty axe, forcing her to continue the retreat. And as he did, his ally swept away, moving around Kira’s back. She saw him slip away out of the corner of her eye, and amid the crowd’s clamour heard the fizz of a spear cutting through the humid air.
She heard it in time, and ducked low. The spear came from behind her, missing her head by inches as she rolled to the side. An axe came down straight after, and she rolled once more, trying to keep the big man between her and the other gladiator. She was dealing with a Brute up front and a ranged attacker from the rear, and she knew just how to fight such a duo.
For a minute or so, she continued to dodge, searching for a chance to attack, peppering the giant with scratches and minor wounds. They’d weaken him, and drain his energy, and soon enough she’d land a more fatal blow.
Constantly moving, she tried to keep Gwyn in her view. And gradually it became clear that her new friend was suffering. The blood, still weeping from the wound on her left arm, was clearing having an effect. Her movements were slowing, her reactions fading. Kira sensed that, sooner or later, she’d be taken out.
She couldn’t allow that. If Gwyn fell, she’d be facing three at once. Not good odds, no matter who you were.
She drew the giant across the arena, stepping through dead bodies as she went, and continued to dodge the incoming projectiles sent by the ra
nged attacker. Then, with them a fair distance away from Gwyn, she set her legs to a gallop, and sped across the sand and sea of bodies at such a pace that the two men had little time to react.
She materialised at Gwyn’s side, and the white-haired warrior’s eyes popped with the sudden intrusion. Her appearance galvanised her friend, and together the two women began to quickly overwhelm him.
A slice to the neck was the finishing blow, sending a spray of blood to the air that doused his white hair and pale skin. The crowd cackled with macabre joy at the sight, and the two women spun on their heels and directed their eyes on the incoming men.
A wicked grin swept across Kira’s face.
Two verses two. Much better odds…
But no, something different was happening. The giant came lumbering, but the other man stayed behind. He didn’t gather up spears from the sand or go searching for errant knives to fling. He just stood there, suddenly just a spectator, and watched as his gigantic ally rushed forward, bellowing as he went.
It took Kira only a second to realise what the smaller man was doing. There were four left, and three would go through. Why risk his life now, when he could just as well sacrifice the lumbering fool instead?
Cowardly? Yes. But sensible too. Kira couldn’t deny the logic of it all, and was only too happy to oblige as the oaf came tumbling towards them, dripping blood from a dozen wounds.
She looked at Gwyn, whose face had gone pallid; sweat beading on her forehead and eyes beginning to turn glassy.
“We’re nearly there, Gwyn,” she said. “Hold on. Leave this with me.”
Gwyn’s eyes took on a new form. The mist within them was dismissed, and the brown of her irises shone back through.
“Not on your life,” she said, a weak smile on her face.
Kira grinned as the beast came hurtling forward.
“OK. Let’s end this. Together.” she growled.
The girls turned on the incoming titan, who seemed to have no idea he was alone. Whether that would have mattered to him or not, Kira didn’t know. He was wild, untamed and primitive, heaving his huge great axe above his head as if to intimidate or overawe them.
It wasn’t going to work.
With Gwyn now by her side, and the other man off watching at a safe, cowardly distance, Kira knew the big man’s time was up.
She slipped right, and Gwyn went left, and the giant had no answer but to stamp and swing his axe, turning his head back and forward, like an elk warding off a couple of probing wolves.
But they didn’t probe for long. As soon as his attention was on Gwyn, Kira faded forward and found a nice inviting space between the plates of armour that protected him. She lunged and felt the blade slice deep, and immediately the beast turned on her with a roar.
It was Gwyn’s turn. She copied Kira, slicing his other flank, and as she did Kira crouched down, then leapt high into the air and plunged her knife right into the man’s neck in a single motion.
It was the killing blow, his jugular cut. His roar was quickly stifled, and blood began to gurgle up from his mouth, spraying from the wound like a fountain.
Kira stepped back as the giant dropped his axe and shield, reaching with thick fingers to stop the flow. It wasn’t possible, and his day was done. He staggered for a moment, before sinking to his knees, the crowd going still and suddenly silent.
The red flow from his neck and flanks painted the sand around him, and his body gave out, collapsing to the earth. Kira looked at him for a long moment, and then turned her eyes and beheld the carnage and horror that surrounded her. And for the first time, she really saw it, and felt a lurch in the pit of her stomach.
She turned away, and sucked in a long breath of air, scented with blood and salty sweat. Moving to Gwyn’s side, she took her hand, and lifted it high into the air. The deep silence among the throng was broken. A hundred thousand voices cracked like thunder.
The cull was a slaughter, and that slaughter was over.
And though they wanted to go through as a three, two had survived.
It was more than Kira could have hoped for.
37
The roar of the crowd lasted some time, and only ended when Empress Vesper stood from her throne and raised her arms.
Dom sat, his feelings torn. He was happy that two of his contenders had survived, Kira in particular. And yet, poor Merk had met his end. At least, Dom thought, he’d died a hero, and killed a gladiator in the process.
The cheering slowed and then stopped entirely. Dom looked at his mother as she surveyed the masses, before dropping her eyes to the three surviving gladiators. They passed from one to the next, and then stuck on Kira, narrowing just a touch.
“The cull has ended!” she called out. “The city has been cleansed, and we honour the three survivors. Come forward, and stand before me.”
She waved one arm towards the gladiators, urging them to gather on the sand beneath the royal balcony. Kira and Gwyn were already close by. The other man, christened Deadeye by Lucius, was a little further away to the left. He came forward, and Dom noticed Kira glaring at him as he approached, her green eyes framed with splashes of blood that rather suited her red hair and combat robes.
It had become obvious to Dom that the crowd had immediately taken to her. Every skilful move she deployed resulted in the largest cheers and collective intakes of breath, live action and slow motion replays further enhancing her burgeoning reputation. When she rushed to Gwyn’s aid she endeared herself to them further, and when she leapt to slice the large gladiator’s throat, they clapped in exultation.
They wanted to see more of her. And now, they’d get their chance.
Lucius wasn’t quite so happy. This first round had very much gone to Dom, though it was only a warm-up bout for the rest of the games and nothing to get in a twist about. Still, he was a young man who didn’t like losing, especially to Dom, and though the fight had been turned by Kira’s involvement when she really shouldn’t have been there, he didn’t seem at all pleased about losing two men to Dom’s one.
The sight of Kira still standing did appear to give him some pleasure, though. As the gladiators gathered, he wandered over to Dom’s position from his seat and breathed over his shoulder in a whisper only he could hear.
“Well done, old friend. I’ll look forward to seeing much more of your red-head soon…”
Dom turned with a flash of anger in his eyes, but couldn’t reply. Lucius had already slithered away, and Vesper was about to speak again.
“Well done to the three of you,” she said, talking now directly to the gladiators below. “You have each earned the right to join the main games, and have proven yourselves worthy of battling the higher seeded warriors. We will all look forward with great anticipation to seeing you on the sand again.”
The man known as Deadeye performed a bow as she finished. Gwyn, seeing it, did the same. Kira merely stared up at Vesper, causing Dom’s insides to clench a little. All gladiators knew to bow to the empress when she addressed them. Kira really wasn’t making life easy for herself. Or for Dom.
And her defiance wasn’t lost on the crowd either.
Dom saw his mother’s eyes stiffen a little, the wrinkles closing in. She held herself firm, knowing her face was splashed across the giant screens fixed to the summit of the stands. With the eyes of the city on her, she knew it was prudent to keep her cool.
She drew a breath and went on, lifting up her arms once more and calling out to the throng.
“Now, let us applaud these warriors as they step from the field of battle…”
Her words were cut off by a murmuring in the audience. It wasn’t the applause Vesper was seeking. It was different; a wave of interest fluttering in the air, starting over on the right side of the stadium and quickly spreading.
Dom leaned forward and tried to figure out what the sudden commotion was. And then he saw it. On the ground, towards the eastern wall of the arena, a body was moving, shifting its weight and groggily climbing to
its feet.
The cameras suddenly panned over, and the large screens filled with the sight of an old seafarer clambering up onto unsteady legs, rusted armour drenched red with blood.
“Oh…God…” whispered Dom. “Merk…”
The caretaker’s face appeared, confused and groggy, the back of his head showing a nasty gash. He hadn’t been killed when he hit the ground, just knocked out for a little while. And from beneath the body of the vanquished gladiator, the old caretaker rose, and the crowd began to cheer.
Their confusion had lasted moments only, before the commoner hero rose up from the dead, standing above the foe he managed to foil. Dom watched in shock as the old man looked around, clearly muddled and utterly perplexed as to what was going on.
And so, it appeared, was Vesper. She looked at Merk in total confusion, before turning her eyes to a number of different people in the royal box as if seeking an explanation. Then they flew straight back to the old man, before turning down to the gladiators.
“Kill that man!” she shouted out, her cool abandoning her. “His punishment was death. Whoever carries out the sentence gets a free pass through the next round!”
Dom’s heart nearly stopped. He prepared to protest but held his tongue. He couldn’t interfere. It wasn’t his place.
The crowd hushed once more, and the gladiators seemed to hesitate. A camera panned to each of them, displaying their expressions. Dom watched them with eagle eyes and found Kira staring up at him. She was close enough to see his face, and the concern etched across it. And close enough too, to see him shake his head and mouth, “No…”
But then, off to the left, Deadeye suddenly flew into action. He drew a knife from his belt and, looking to the befuddled old man, stretched out his arm behind him and prepared to throw.
What happened next caused a gasp from the crowd. As Deadeye primed to launch the blade, Kira was quick to notice. She drew her own – her final one – and just as Deadeye threw his knife, so did she.
