by Lexy Wolfe
Kragen’s eyes shifted from Alimar to Tiwaz as she turned her sword point downward and gave the deformed creature a merciful death blow. She looked up to her master and the demon, expression unreadable. You are immortal, but you are no wiser now than you were thousands of years ago, human. Your arrogance will one day be your doom. With those final words, the face in the mirror vanished.
“It is dead, Master,” Tiwaz stated, cleaning the long sword and sheathing it.
“Return to your pen. I am done with my experiments for today and have no further need of your presence.” He waved in dismissal. “Prepare for the games tomorrow.”
The six-foot tall woman did not move, her eyes flashing with restrained anger. “I will not kill Tambek! He has done no wrong to you. He serves you well.”
Alimar smirked as he paused by the door leading to his tower chambers. “Every month for the last year, you have said you will not kill your friends. Each time, you have failed to save them. You will fail again.” The sorcerer turned his back, telling her as he pulled the door shut, “Send my apprentice in to clean up the mess.”
Fists clenched, Tiwaz turned on her heel and stalked out of the laboratory. As she passed the slightly shorter Gilhadnar, she said in clipped tones, “Clean the laboratory. Master’s orders.”
Gilhadnar scowled and grabbed her from behind, throwing her into the wall and putting his hand around her throat. “You think to order me?” She barely blinked, meeting his glare with impassivity. “You better show respect to your betters, slave,” he seethed.
Without missing a beat, she gave him a blunt response. “I do.” She winced when he squeezed her throat and grabbed his wrist. The gladiator squeezed hard until his hand went numb, temporarily paralyzed, then shoved him back. “Do you really believe he teaches you anything, Gilhadnar? You clean up broken glass, spilled potions, and dead bodies. We are both tools in his eyes, but you are less valuable to him than I am.”
She did not flinch when he grabbed her breast. “Go ahead. Prove how much of a man you aren’t. Rape me. Kill me.” She sneered at him in defiance. “I would love to hear you explain how your pride was more important than Master’s orders.”
With an inarticulate curse, he released her, shoving her the way she had been heading before he stalked towards the laboratory, slamming the door behind him. Her amusement at goading her master’s apprentice faded, her expression impassive as she strode out. She ignored the silent acknowledgments of those she passed, their expressions filled with blends of admiration, respect, envy, and pity.
Zuneer looked up when the outer arena gates opened. Tiwaz strode across the sands towards the archway leading into the inner areas of the structure. He pressed his lips together when she passed by her fellow gladiators without a hint of greeting.
One man tossed his weapon to his training opponent and approached the gladiator trainer. “Permission to—”
“Go, Tambek,” the arena master dismissed without inflection. The rest looked away from the condemned man going to talk with his unwilling executioner.
“Tiwaz,” Tambek called, jogging to catch up to her. He grabbed her arm to stop her. She froze, neither looking at him nor attacking him. He moved to stand in front of her, touching her cheek tenderly. “Tomorrow isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for Master choosing me to face you, okay?” He turned her face back towards his. “I just regret we won’t have more time together.”
“It is my fault,” she whispered, her voice harsh. “I have been weak. I must be stronger.” She would have continued, but he put his calloused fingers over her lips to silence her. “Tambek…” He kissed her gently, then pulled her against him. Her arms wrapped around him as she returned his affection, the two stumbling until the wall stopped them. He took her by the hand and led her into one of the empty stalls. She followed without saying a word.
IN THEIR SHARED stall, the dim light of a distant wall torch lifted the darkness enough to see shapes. Doom rolled over to look at Tiwaz seated along the wall shared with the hallway, her hands resting on her knees, eyes closed. “You should be sleeping,” he stated in a low voice.
“You need sleep more than me,” Tiwaz stated tonelessly.
The gromek pushed himself up. He watched her, a frown darkening his terrifying visage. “Today is another death match. You need to be rested so you do not falter.”
“I fully intend to falter.” Vivid green eyes opened and fixed on him. “I will not kill Tambek. I will not kill any more for Master.”
Doom dropped to his knees in front of her, grabbing her hands. “Ti, you cannot throw a fight. He will know! He’ll be furious if you shame him in front of his allies and he would have to punish you directly.”
“I am not going to throw the fight. I have more honor than that. But I will not kill Tambek or anyone else to entertain Master or his allies.” She met his eyes briefly, then looked away. “I know Master will be furious when I finally prove I am not the killer he tries to make me. I expect he will kill me for it.” She drew one of his hands to press his knuckles against her cheek. “I am sorry I am not the tiwaz you believed me to be. I am not strong enough. Not good enough. But at least I will die knowing you are free of the shackles of my existence.”
“You are Tiwaz,” he stated flatly. He studied her, worried. “I don’t want you to die, Ti. I can’t lose you. There must be another way. I promised you we would be free someday. Free together.” His voice cracked as he looked away in shame. “I promised you. I cannot fail to keep my word to you. Not again.”
She put her hand along his jaw, turning his face back towards hers. “Promise me, Doom. When I am gone, you will live. For both of us.” He could not meet her gaze, quaking with emotion. “Promise me, Doom. I need to know you will live when I am gone.”
He swallowed against the knot in his throat, whispering, “You know Master will likely kill me, too. I am not the warrior you are. Ever since he disfigured me, I have been too ashamed.”
“He might kill you,” she conceded. “But I do not think so. Without me, he will have no hold over you. He cannot use me against you. And he will believe when I am gone, you will have no reason to live.” She smiled in bitterness. “If he cannot torment you, he will ignore you. Your revenge would be to continue living.” Her smile faded. “Promise me, Doom. Find your name. Find a place away from Shurakh Arln. Live the life I could never remember.”
“But I can’t…” Doom held her hands tight, pressing her knuckles against his brow. Anguished, he whispered, “I promise, Ti. I will try to live for you.”
“For both of us,” she corrected. She hid her face against his neck as she embraced him. “The one thing that would destroy me is facing you. If I cannot stop killing now, it will be you I face someday. I will not kill you. Nothing Master could do to me would make me kill you. And I cannot watch him kill you if I do not. Not the only friend, only family, I have.”
“Ti,” Doom whispered in a harsh voice, holding the woman tighter. Neither was sure how long it was until Zuneer came to fetch her.
He looked into the stall, his eyes red and his voice tight. “Tiwaz. It’s time.”
After a few moments, the pair released each other. As she stood, she leaned down to kiss Doom’s brow. Without a word, she turned away and strode out. Zuneer winced at the howl of anguish that echoed from behind them. He glanced back towards the place the pair had called home most of their lives, then at the hardened profile of the young gladiator woman.
THE SMALL CROWD of rich sycophants from the capitol city followed the dark sorcerer into the audience box of the private arena, fluttering like a colorful flock of birds. As members of the rich families, they viewed greatness through the lenses of wealth or power, both of which Alimar possessed, though no one knew with any certainty how much. An aristocratic man seated beside the sorcerer leaned over casually. “So, tell us about this man who is going to die at the hands of your warrior pet, Alimar.”
A faint smile touched Alimar’s lips. “You will enjoy t
his one, I think. I specifically chose Tambek because he is her lover.” There was a ripple of surprise and delight among the small audience. “He is one of my better gladiators; however your entertainment is worth the sacrifice.” He looked up and drew their attention. “Here they are now.” The pair marched out and stopped before him, both putting fists over their hearts and lowering their heads in respect. The sycophants immediately began chattering among themselves, arguing the odds and making wagers against one another.
Tiwaz’s voice was low, her words for her opponent alone. “I will not kill you, Tambek. But I am not going to throw the fight, so you must fight hard.”
Tambek looked up sharply to stare at Tiwaz. He paled with dread when he heard Alimar speaking the words of the spell compelling the woman to obey him. She grimaced, shaking her head, expression contorted with the discomfort the spell induced in forcing his will on her. “Kill him, my warrior.” Tambek took several steps back, pulling his sword out as she drew her ominous two-handed weapon free of the sheath across her back.
The first blows traded were pure show. Sunlight flashed off their blades and oiled flesh. The ringing of metal on metal filled the air. Small cuts drew blood but did no real harm. All aspects of the first few minutes served to heighten the excitement of the audience. The shift into the more earnest battle was subtle.
Tambek grunted when he blocked a downward strike, the impact far heavier than the earlier ones. “So, now it begins,” he muttered when she started stalking after him as he attempted to put space between them to regain his footing. His efforts were to no avail. The sycophants laughed as they sipped wine.
Many wide and far considered Tiwaz, several years younger than him, the best in the art of gladiating. The compulsion was unnecessary when it came to the battle. It had become instinct so deeply ingrained, the fight was a part of her. She always controlled the rhythm of the event, from the beginning, no matter if her opponent was beast or man. Entertainment first, then going in for the victory. The proud woman never permitted herself a loss, because losses equated to punishments for Doom.
She battered Tambek into exhaustion, forcing him to his knees and disarming him. He raised his head to meet her eyes, sadness and forgiveness in their depths. She met his eyes for several heartbeats, not moving.
Alimar called in tones that were a mixture of firmness and casualness, “Kill him!” Tambek closed his eyes when she raised the sword, waiting for the final blow. When it did not come, he opened his eyes uncertainly. Trembling, she held the blade in check. His eyes widened when Alimar repeated the order a second, then a third time with less dismissiveness and more anger. Still, she withheld the death blow.
The seamless, golden shackles that had magically grown with her from childhood gleamed in the light, shimmering with her shaking as she fought the spell and her master’s orders. Her expression was terrible. Rivulets of blood begin to seep from beneath the shackles and run down her arms. “Kill! Him!” The sword finally began to fall, but did not land. He felt its nearness as it sailed over his head and stared agape as she flung the weapon away.
Tiwaz shook as if with palsy. She met her master’s eyes. Throat tight, she was able to articulate a single word before collapsing to her knees. “No!”
For a heartbeat, utter silence enveloped the arena. It felt like nothing moved, not even the air. Then suddenly Alimar, always cool and collected, deadly in his subtlety, got to his feet in a fit of pure, unadulterated rage. His audience fled the arena in terror as the sorcerer leapt out of the audience box to land on the sands.
Tambek cringed, hiding his eyes with his arm. Too exhausted to flee, he was the only witness to the bestial attack on Tiwaz. Alimar used no magic to beat her in his fury. His savage attack continued long after Tiwaz lay still in the sands, bruised, bloody, and body broken. The male gladiator could not look on her when Alimar spoke, spitting words like icy daggers. “Tambek. You will take this filth’s place as my bodyguard.”
Unsure if he could consider himself fortunate for living, Tambek could only nod several times before he could voice the words, “Yes, Master.” The blood-spattered sorcerer waved a gruesome hand for Tambek to follow him. The surviving gladiator paused just long enough to put his hand on Tiwaz’s blood-soaked hair, a tear escaping his eye. “Thank you.” He staggered to his feet and lurched forward to catch up to Alimar.
Zuneer stepped through the gates to the gladiator stables, pushing them open in front of him. He could not watch as Doom ran out to his friend, slipping and staggering back to his feet in his haste to get to her side. Urbin emerged as well to stand with Zuneer, both men silent out of respect.
“Ti?” Doom choked, falling to his knees in the white sand soaked red with her blood. He could not bring himself to touch her at first. The gromek reached out a huge, trembling hand to caress her blood-soaked, ebony braids with uncertainty. “Ti?” he called, closing his eyes when she remained unresponsive. He gathered her into his arms with tender care, holding her against his broad chest. “You did it, Ti,” he whispered, bowing his head over her. “You defeated Master finally. It is over.”
“Not until he is dead,” a familiar voice whispered.
The gromek blinked, sitting upright in shock, staring at the broken body he held. “Ti?” He laid one hand along her cheek, staring intently at her inert form. “Ti?!” Though the warmth of life faded even in the hot sun, Doom knew with absolute certainty he heard her whisper the words of denial. The discovery of the weak flutter of her pulse filled him with an iron-like resolve.
Urbin and Zuneer stared in awe and no small amount of trepidation when the gromek surged to his feet and strode towards them with purpose. Fierce determination lent ominousness to his height. He fixed them both with a hard look. “I will not let her die a slave,” he growled. “I promised her freedom. I promised her. Help me.”
“We can’t,” Urbin began.
Zuneer held up a hand. “Wait. There may be a way.” He looked at Urbin and said cryptically, “The raving wagoner Juran.”
Urbin’s eyes went wide. “Are you daft?! The man is thirteen short of a dozen!”
“Who else would be brazen enough to even try to help any of Alimar’s slaves escape?” Zuneer demanded in a hiss. He looked at the deathly pale face of the woman hanging in Doom’s arms. “She did what none of us have the balls to even speak of, much less try. She refused to kill Tambek. She saved my son’s life!” He grabbed Urbin by the front of his tunic with one hand, gesturing to the pair of slaves. “We owe it to her.”
Urbin nodded, lowering his eyes in shame. “She may not last long, Doom,” he warned. “I can tell from here she is bad off.”
Doom looked at her face, his expression so contorted with anguish, the humans wished his kind could cry; it would appear less wounded. “I know. But her death…it can’t be for nothing. She can’t die here. Not like this. I promised her we’d be free. If there is the slightest chance for her to be free for a little while before she…before she is gone, I have to try. I have to.”
Zuneer stared at Urbin until the man relented. The woodsman stated gruffly, “If she’s going to have a chance of living long enough, you need to take her somewhere safe to tend to her injuries. Come on.”
URBIN LED DOOM through a hidden tunnel winding deep below Alimar’s estate that ended in a dark cavern echoing with the sounds of flowing water. The gromek narrowed his eyes, sniffing the air suspiciously. He startled when Urbin lit a large, oil-filled brazier. The flames brightly illuminated the cavern. Three small dragon skulls rested on altars surrounding a black pool of water in the center of the chamber. Behind it, a flawless black mirror shimmered in the flickering light. “What is this place?” he asked in wariness.
“Some temple,” Urbin replied, tones brusque. “Alimar doesn’t know it is here. Don’t know if whatever gods still protect this place from him discovering it or not. Not that anyone could escape through here anyway. Tunnel’s the only way in or out.”
“What’s it used for?” the
gromek wondered, scanning the room nervously.
The woodsman shrugged as he rested a hand on the skull inset with emerald eyes. “We hide things from him down here. Wait until he’s forgotten about it if he noticed it missing at all. Mostly medicines, some food and other supplies he has withheld from us many times.” He gestured towards the stack of crates on the far wall from the entrance and the altar. “Use what you need for her.”
Doom walked over to the raised dais by the pool of water and laid Tiwaz with the utmost care onto the smooth stone floor. “Why do you not use it to hide slaves and help them escape?” he asked in bewilderment.
Urbin sighed. “Because Alimar never forgets a single person he possesses. No matter how lowly or ignored the slave, the moment they try to flee, he somehow knows. And then he sends hunters after them. Not mercenaries, either.” He looked at Doom. “Horrible, nightmarish monsters. We dare not risk this refuge.” He turned his eyes away from the gromek. “We only do it now for her and the fact he likely believes her dead, and you soon to follow her. We suspect this place lies beyond the actual borders of the estate.”
“You think this hole is enough to fulfill my promise to her?” Doom demanded, looming over the man he had always obeyed without question. “This is not freedom! It is no better than our cage!”
The man held up both hands defensively. “It is just until Zuneer can arrange to get you both off Griffin Isle. The wagoner Juran comes to the estate regularly.” He warned, “I don’t know how long it will be until Alimar realizes you’re gone. He might start looking for you anytime now. But until he does, it should be safe enough for you here. Hopefully, it will be long enough to get you somewhere to let you keep your promise to her before she passes.”
His bristling subsided. “Thank you.” He knelt by the woman, caressing her hair gently. “Forgive me for my temper. Her freedom is the only thing I have left to live for. It does not matter what Master…Alimar…does to me once she is gone.” Urbin could only nod, too choked up to speak. The woodsman turned and headed back up the tunnel, the panel in the wall sliding shut once more.
