"Just where I want you!" she taunted him, exulting in the fight, while unleashing a flurry of swift attacks that rained on Gavin's bright, lion-headed shield like pounding sledgehammers. Such was the ferocity of her attack that he was nearly undone before he could regain his feet. His shield met her blades as he gave ground. His barbed spear darted out from underneath the shield in answer to her assault, sudden and deadly, and Sadira was forced to dance backwards out of reach.
"Come on, you can do better than that. What use is a man's spear if he can't..." She was forced to roll backwards before she could finish her taunt, as Gavin surged forward unexpectedly, swinging his broad-bladed spear in a wide slashing arc that passed within a finger's width of hitting her.
Gavin smiled as his swift-footed opponent came nimbly to her feet; she answered his smile with a fiendish grin, crimson lips shining through her black veil, and then charged toward him again, her feet kicking up sand as her magically enhanced body pushed her forward well beyond the speeds attainable by the ungifted.
She attacked at a more measured pace this time, her twin swords testing his defences, seeking to find a way past his shield and armour to taste her love's flesh. He matched her movements with his own, bright shield and barbed spear dancing with her blood-hungry blades. They whirled and clashed, probing and testing each other, looking for weakness.
Thrust. Clang. Slam. Slash. Duck. Duck again. Grunt. Slash, Whirl, Cleave.
After a long moment locked in combat, they parted, both breathing hard and bathed in sweat. The crowd gathered in the stands roared their approval; such a display of skill and energy was rare at any rank.
She's too fast, thought Gavin; I need to slow her down before she cuts me to ribbons.
It was Gavin who drew first blood; up until then, he had not used his Cogimantic magic directly, relying only on the magics that all Gladiators used automatically. He had kept it as a surprise, his last card to play, something that the normally astute Sadira had overlooked in her reckless passion. Before she could close with him again he channelled power into a mental blast. Sadira was caught off guard. Her vision blurred as her brain began to overheat and hemorrhage; she staggered back, blood dripping from her nose. Cunning Gavin followed up with a quick spear thrust, and she was forced to give ground, parrying desperately. She channelled life magic into a pattern of healing, letting it course through her body, helping her recover even faster than her gifted constitution normally would.
"Cogimancy!" she said as she recovered, dancing around him. "Somehow I did not expect someone like you to be into mind games, my love."
"You asked for a fight Sadira," he smirked. "You told me to give you my best. Don't complain if you get hurt!"
"Oh, don't worry, Gladiator," she snarled, voice growing into an inhuman shout as she darted forward. "I CAN TAKE ANYTHING YOU'VE GOT!"
Swift-footed Sadira closed eagerly, swinging her twin blades in a storm of terrible blows that Gavin barely managed to weather. She did not cut him with these, but this time she anticipated his counter attack, and as he thrust his broad bladed spear from underneath his shield, agile Sadira leapt up into the air stepping onto the shield, pushing off, flipping and twisting to land on the sand behind him, swords whirling as she did so. Both blades clawed into his back, leaving deep red gashes. She turned to face him, triumph in her eyes.
Stoic Gavin still stood, blood dripping down his back, pain etched upon his face; the crowd cheered his endurance. She had expected him to falter from such brutal wounds, but he did not. His eyes met hers defiantly; she grinned in response. She knew now that she has chosen well.
She kept her eyes on his, watching his expression change from defiance to shock as she lifted one of her bloodied swords toward her crimson lips and, pushing aside the veil, ran her dexterous tongue along the blade, tasting the metal and her champion's blood. She licked her lips slowly and suggestively, grinning at him when she'd finished. The audience surged, cheering, from their seats at this, revelling along with her.
Gavin just stood there, staring. She's insane, he thought; these things don't happen in real life.
In the stands Karmal rolled her eyes, "Sadira is such a sucker for the dramatic. A Shadow-Elf babe licking blood off her blade is so overdone!"
"There's no such thing as cliché in the arena, Karmal" replied bright-eyed Vintia beside her, quoting an oft- used maxim. "And I feel obliged to point out that the audience loved it."
The roar of the crowd kindled Sadira's bloodlust to greater heights and she darted forward again, agile and deadly. Sword-blows rained down on Gavin from all sides as his swift-footed opponent made use of her superior mobility to dance around him and attack from multiple angles. As she did so, the shadows seemed to weave around her, making it harder for Gavin to anticipate her movements. Her twin obsidian blades, slender and curved, were never at rest; twice more they kissed him, leaving with him with deep, bloody cuts. Each wound was accompanied by frantic cheers from the spectators. Yet try as she might, deadly Sadira could not fool Gavin into making a major mistake again, and as the rock endures the storm, he stoically weathered the pain caused by her attacks. Meanwhile his mental attacks continued to hurt her, while his hungry spear sought to answer her in kind, often forcing her to dance away from him.
At last the trumpets sounded, signalling the end of the allotted time. Sadira let her blood drenched swords drop to the ground, her chest heaving from the efforts of the match. Gavin slowly lowered his shield. He too was breathing hard, body glistening with sweat and blood.
"BOTH WARRIORS STILL STAND," rumbled the voice of the announcer. "THE PEOPLE WILL DECIDE THE WINNER!"
"SHOW YOUR SUPPORT FOR GAVIN ORPHANUS, THE MAN WHITH THE SHIELD," the announcer boomed. Gavin raised his spear to salute the crowd, trying not to wince as he straightened his back and disturbed the half-healed cuts. The crowd cheered and many of them thrust their thumbs into the air. Gavin's heart pounded.
"AND FOR SADIRA LACIVIA, THE LOVELY SHADOW ELF WITH TWO SWORDS." Cutting the air with an elaborate flourish, Sadira raised her deadly swords in salute. The crowd's response was deafening; she drank in their praise as they showered it upon her. Gavin could not see a single member of the audience, other than Ravius and Omodo who did not show their thumbs for her, even those who had also voted for him. Sadira was elated, flush with victory. She had expected to win, and she was right. They had chosen her; they always did.
Gavin felt a twinge of disappointment. This was his first recorded loss, on his first ranking match no less, a fact which stung him more than Sadira's blades. Very few arena champions had more than a handful of losses on their records, and he had hoped to avoid one this early in his career. He wondered what would happen now; would he have to repeat the ranking test? And what about Sadira: was she just using him?
"SADIRA WINS!" the announcer thundered. The crowd cheered and chanted her name.
"Nicely done," Gavin said, quiet and distant, trying to muster his dignity while bowing to Sadira; It was a traditional bow, low and dignified, signifying respect to an honoured opponent.
Sadira recognized the hurt in Gavin's eyes as he bowed to her; she felt a sharp tug upon her heart and realized that her cruel drama had played out poorly in this respect. It dawned on her that perhaps he had his own secret hurts and pains, and that she needed to be graceful in her victory if she wanted to make him hers. She considered her feelings for a heartbeat. He had fought well. He had shown her true respect in their battle. He was more than worthy. She still felt that deep connection to him she had noticed at the time of their first encounter. She loved him; this could not be denied.
And so, instead of returning his bow in the traditional fashion, she walked toward him, dropping her swords into the sand and mustering her most beguiling smile. His clear blue eyes met hers through the veil and softened. She held his gaze, eyes bright, as she glided to him. When she came within reach she whispered a little magic word and the black veil fell from her face, followed shortly by all of her a
rmour. Gavin eyes widened.
She let Gavin look at her for a moment, and then, naked except for the blood, sweat, and sand of the fight, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him as passionately as she could. She felt the metal of his breastplate dig into her flesh as she pulled herself hard against him. After a moment his arms closed around her waist. The crowd roared its lusty approval.
"So Honoured Gladiator, your arming room or mine?" she whispered to him as they parted for breath, artfully raising an eyebrow.
Gavin laughed, shaking his head in wonder, and all his worries and pains were drowned in the heady throb of mad passion and the irresistible rush of love.
The tale of this brilliant match followed the crowd as they left the arena, taking on a life of its own, growing with each re-telling. It was the beginning of their legend.
Chapter Six: Dreadwood
1140/05/28 AR, Dreadwood Junction, a crossroads town in the Dreadwood with a small, private arena
"Some say the Great Games predate the end of the Reckoning. The ancient amphitheatre at Dreadwood Junction provides ample evidence of this; it is a gruesome testament however, This arena has the air of ritual sacrifice with little pretence of valour." Chosen Mazurin
"It is well known that independently owned arenas are prone to numerous abuses. Collusion, favouritism, nepotism, and all other forms of corruption can be found in these private arenas. However, it would be a very unpopular move to close them down without providing an alternative. Think of the crowding and wait times in the Campus arenas if lower ranked Gladiators were forced to stay there until they were recruited by a Faction team. Think also of the many citizens of the Domains who do not have easy access to public arenas who would thus be cut off from the Great Games. We cannot recommend that these arenas be shut down; instead we must work harder to regulate them." Conclusion to a report prepared to the Arena Reform committee, Deliberative branch 459 AR
Their first months together were sweet and tempestuous, a whirlwind of love, lust, and mutual discovery. They quickly became inseparable, training and living together. Their small group of friends mingled and Gavin became friends with flame-haired Karmal and bright-eyed Vintia while Sadira adopted smiling Ravius and giant Omodo into her circle. When the time came for them to strike out from the Campus Martius, they did so as a group. This is not unusual for low ranking Gladiators, and small groups like these often form the seed for great teams later on.
Sadira came from a large clan of proud, rakish Shadow Elves, with whom she still kept in contact as much as her restricted freedom would allow. They were proud of the talented Sadira and adopted Gavin unhesitatingly. This was a new experience for Gavin, who had never known his family and had kept to himself in training. He felt his life expanding, greatly enriched by new faces in his social circles, even though getting used to life with the energetic, driven Sadira was certainly an adjustment for the quiet young man.
-----o
"Where were you, Gavin?" Sadira picked herself up off the sand of the training ground, her eyes ablaze with anger. Omodo, standing over her, tried to apologize for knocking her over but she quieted him with a raised finger, her gaze never leaving Gavin. It was the third time in a row that the Giant Armodon had gotten to her this training session.
Gavin smiled. Sadira was in a bad mood; she had taken an intense dislike to Dreadwood Junction, the swampy crossroads town where they had come. He found dealing with her passionate, competitive nature difficult at times, but accepted this as simply a trial in their budding relationship.
"Well...?" Gavin's smile infuriated sharp-tongued Sadira who thought he might be mocking her. "You just let him knock me down! How in the bloody Reckoning am I supposed to survive fighting a giant tomorrow if you stand still like a statue?"
Omodo and Vintia walked away, talking about their strategy for the next bout. They joined Ravius who was eating his lunch nearby, watching other Gladiators going about their training and conditioning.
"We've been over this before..." Gavin spoke as evenly as possible, trying to get his lover to calm down. It would not help if he became angry as well. "You are very fast Sadira, and Vintia was screening for him. If you want me to block for you, you have to stay closer or lure him to me."
"You're right," sighed Sadira, trying to moderate her desire to argue and prove her dominance. She was simply not used to working as a team, she decided. It was also unworthy to take out her frustrations on others. In truth, Gavin was turning out to be an excellent partner, on and off the field. The anger in her eyes faded. "What can we do to improve?"
"Vintia hit me with that freeze spell she uses," Gavin shrugged. "It slows me down. We need to take our opponent's magic into account, and adapt to their actions. I will signal you if I get tied up from now on, so you know to keep close. Teamwork takes time Sadira; I know we will do fine against the Giant."
"I agree on the signals," Sadira's tone was more thoughtful now. "But I can't always stop to check what you are doing or hear what you say. Can you use your magic to link our minds?"
"Yes," he responded, "I know several spells that can do that. But you will have to learn bits of the spell pattern as well; otherwise any Cogimancer will be able to 'listen' to our communications."
"We should have discussed this before. I wish we had more time to prepare," she said, watching him think. "I can't believe we fight tomorrow; we aren't even moved in!"
"Well this is the only match the Arena Master offered to us; we can't change that."
"How did we end up with a rotten worm like Meady Mox as an Arena Master?" Sadira's expressive face twisted in anger again. "We are a blessing to this inconsequential town and its tiny arena, and he has the gall to tell me that I either have to wait six months or fight two days after I get here."
"I'm sure once he sees us fight, he will be confident that we can entertain the locals," Gavin said evenly. He did not like what he was hearing about this Mox character. Karmal, Sadira's fiery red-headed friend, had filed a complaint about the man with the Deliberative after their first meeting.
"I'd like to gut that little runt!" Sadira made vicious motions with her swords. "No joke. Ravius found out that Mox gives matches to women who do him... favours... disgusting little man; I hope the Deliberative sentences him to fight me in the Arena. If that greasy, smelly turd lays a hand on any of my friends..."
"He wouldn't dare." Gavin smiled, kissing his energetic partner on the forehead. "I doubt he would live through trying to grope a Gladiatrix. Just imagine what you or Karmal would do to him in self-defence. Now let's forget about him for today and focus on getting ready for our fight. I have a different strategy we can try this time around. I'll stick with you, instead of screening you from afar; you try to keep Vintia between you and Omodo so I can respond to both of them. Use your magic to speed me up a bit so I can keep up to you."
"Interesting idea." Sadira smiled. "We should be able to do that if we put our superior mobility to work against their heavy armour."
-----o
Dreadwood Junction is a small, but busy town situated where two major roads cross the expansive Dreadwood Forest, a wild place which still bears the taint of the unfettered magic used during the Reckoning. Its trees are often strangely, almost maliciously twisted, and the dark depths at the heart of the wood are home to very dangerous creatures. Arena Masters from all over the Domains hire teams of mercenaries to venture into the Dreadwood and capture these beasts for use in their games; some of the more eccentric Chosen also like to hunt amid the scarred trees.
Dreadwood is situated west of the City of Krass, requiring a journey of seven days travel by horse. Gladiators usually travel by foot or steam-wagon, faster methods being generally forbidden to them; they were escorted by grim-faced officers of the Deliberative who often detoured on other errands. It had taken almost a month for Gavin and Sadira to make the journey. The lands around Dreadwood Forest are civilized farmlands reconquered early in the days after the Chosen made the Covenant with the peop
le of Krass. The farmlands make use of the outer woods, the tainted trees producing excellent wood and regenerating with great speed. The forest is a shared resource for several Domains and also independent foresters who ship to Krass and the Northlands. The town, Dreadwood Junction, is thus not only an attraction to travellers who wish to pass through the wood but also home to several large logging enterprises, as well as the many satellite industries that they fuel. Dreadwood furniture was also becoming quite popular among the upper class in Krass.
Sadira and Gavin along with their friends Ravius, Vintia, Omodo, and Karmal had chosen to come to Dreadwood Junction because the town had close ties to the working class Red Faction. The recruiters for the Faction teams supposedly passed through the town frequently. They had decided Dreadwood Junction Arena provided their best opportunity to gain the attention of the Reds quickly, which would allow them to get positions on a Faction team early.
It was a good plan, at least based on the information they possessed when they first started searching for a suitable arena following their stay at the Campus. It did not, however, take into account Arena Master Meady Mox.
The Arena Master of Dreadwood Junction was every bit as vile as Sadira described him. Meady was not his actual name but rather an appellation given to him because his clothing and breath always smelled of his favourite beverage, Dreadwood mead made from blightbee honey. Mox was one of those corrupt, hierarchical individuals whose nature leads them to believe that people in power are better than everyone else below them. As Arena Master, Mox felt he could use his position however he wished as long as he did not draw the ire of his superiors. If he did not like certain Gladiators, they would often languish for many months waiting for a single match, or be offered a fight that would likely go against them.
Bloodlust: A Gladiator's Tale Page 9
