-----o
The scorpions in question are one of the many varieties found deep in the tainted wastes of the deserts south of Krass, their bodies around eight feet long with intimidating pincers that could easily sever an arm or a leg, with barbed tail stings that could impale a man, lifting him off his feet, as the great gout of poison injected turned his insides to mush. Thick armoured plates of brownish chitin make getting at the creature's soft spots difficult. Termed southern brown-claws in arena jargon, these Scorpions are considered a serious challenge for rank one Gladiators, such as Sadira and Gavin.
Monstrous insects are popular arena fodder in the Domains. They are tough, fearless, and dangerous looking. If wounded they will bleed enough to satisfy all but the most bloodthirsty fight-goer. A smart Arena Master or pro-active beast handler will make sure that the insect's "blood" and innards are treated to appear bright red or perhaps neon green when spilled, further enhancing the audience experience. (Most alchemists sell these treatments for a reasonable sum) They are relatively easy to capture and care for, and very cheap to replace when they get killed. In addition, fewer spectators feel any level of empathy for insects, and so no one seriously protests killing them. Even some of the bleeding-heart, animal-loving elves of the Sylvanwood Domain have been known to relish a good insect fight. Of course, a certain type of arena-goer also relishes the fact that when a scorpion manages to get hold of an unlucky Gladiator, the results are always gruesome and spectacular. A Gladiator, unlike a normal man, is rarely lucky enough to die before the poison takes its toll.
-----o
"I've always wanted one of these as a pet," Sadira said softly, as she and Gavin stood looking out of the Gladiator's entrance, arms around each other. "You can paint them all kinds of interesting colours if you're careful. My sister has a small one, only the size of a dog, back home; I'd paint mine bright red. I'd get a scorpion tattoo too, if it would take."
"Mmmm. I'd like to see that." Gavin kissed the back of her neck. He was well aware of her fondness for scorpions. He wondered what her family would think of him..."Make sure to be careful out there; there was a terrain clause I could not make sense of in the contract."
"I don't see any terrain changes," she replied, "but I'll keep an eye out; Mox was rather upset that you cornered him into giving us the match."
"Imagine how mad he would be if he realized I did not actually have those forms!" he answered.
"It was a good bluff, my love." She smiled, eyeing him appreciatively. "I'm glad you were there with me today. You helped me keep my temper in check."
The crowd broke into cheers as the announcer shouted their names.
"They remember us! Mox is a fool to stand in our way." Sadira smiled happily as the wooden gate of the Dreadwood Arena Gladiator's entrance swung open. She disengaged herself reluctantly from her lover and stepped into the open. "Let’s win some hearts and open a few purses, show our Arena Master the error of his ways."
Gavin followed Sadira in, watching her skillful acrobatic display, the sapphire eyes on his silver-white lion-headed breastplate gleaming in the sunlight. Sadira finished off by saluting the crowd, and they cheered her enthusiastically. Gavin raised his weapon, first, in salute to her, then to the crowd, eliciting laughter from a few of the more astute patrons of the Dreadwood Arena.
The scorpions were raised to the fighting grounds through the same trap-door mechanism that had brought the giant in for their last match. The announcer did not bother to name them; one giant scorpion was the same as another as far as most people were concerned. They scuttled toward Gavin and Sadira without any prompting, crushing pincer-claws snapping in anticipation.
Gavin moved forward to meet them, planting his feet firmly and raising his shield to receive their attacks. Sadira moved behind Gavin, admiring his broad back as she did so, screening herself from the scorpions' view. She felt free for the first time in weeks, the difficulties with Meady Mox evaporating under the exhilaration of the fight and the joy of the crowd.
The first scorpion to reach Gavin backpedalled as he thrust his spear at its eyes. Its partner's claws glanced off his shield as the second scorpion tried to grab him. He ducked as a venomous tail-barb the size of his head lanced forward.
Swift-footed Sadira chose this moment to spring forward, her curved black swords rending the air. One of the scorpion's legs fell off, leaking dull yellowish fluid into the moss. It rounded on her, but she rolled to the side and swung again, cleaving another leg off. The deadly insect backed away defensively, shielding itself with its heavily armoured pincers, its movements hampered now.
Meanwhile Gavin was busy fending off the other scuttling beast, reading the creatures movements looking for the best opportunity to attack. The scorpion was strangely resistant to his magic, but Omodo had reminded him about this possibility before the match.
Sadira could not get close enough to the wounded scorpion to finish it. Her next two sword strokes bounced off its thick brown carapace plates. She moved to get a better angle of attack, but it scuttled to face her with remarkable speed. Sadira suddenly wished she had put some time into learning how to fire venomous spines like some Gladiators versed in Druidic magic could. She whirled, nimbly stepping between two grasping claws and landing a resounding blow on its head, twisting to avoid the thrusting tail and with a back-flip, rolling out over its pincers. The disappointed groan from the crowd as she sprang back told her that her attack had failed to draw much blood even before she could assess the damage with her eyes.
Gavin knocked a pincer upwards and thrust forward, his spear sinking into a soft joint and causing the insect to jump-scuttle backwards. He followed with a vigorous lunge, taking advantage of his spear's long reach, the sharp point of his weapon cracking through the carapace. He then rolled away as its massive tail sought him out again.
Sadira leapt toward her foe, dodging between its pincers and slamming her sharp twin swords through its back. The blades did not glance off the thick carapace this time, but rather cut through the insect's chitinous shell, sinking deeply into its innards. She jerked her weapons out, trying to flip backwards and avoid its death throes, but as the nimble Gladiatrix touched the ground her boots lodged, caught in a hidden patch of adhesive snare-grass. The brief resistance allowed the scorpion's barb to hit her in her abdomen, the barbed sting ripping through her muscles and penetrating into her stomach, pumping deadly venom into her body. The pain and shock instantly overwhelmed her. With the last of her strength she pulled herself off the deadly barb, collapsing to the ground. Beside her the eviscerated scorpion shuddered and pulled itself toward her, its tail ejaculating venom into the moss.
Gavin heard the crowd gasp and risked a look at Sadira. His heart sank. She lay in a bloody heap on the ground. Her foe, not quite dead, reached toward her with a vicious pincer seeking to dismember spitefully before death claimed it. Ignoring his own opponent, he turned and ran forward throwing his barbed spear like a javelin while channelling every ounce of his power into a mental blast spell. His grim war-spear flew through the air like a ballista bolt, arcing true and slammed into the "head" of the wounded scorpion. The impaling spear was followed closely by the ripple of power brought into being by his magic. The spear sank deep as the scorpion's eight eyes burst from the sheer power of his spell. His target died, but before he could turn to face his original foe, its massive pincer closed around his waist.
Sadira fought against the irresistible undertow of pain carrying her into deeper darkness. Venom ate at her insides, battling against and overcoming her Gladiator's powers of regeneration. She reached out with her mind and spirit, desperately trying to channel the primal forces of her verdant magic in order to weave the pattern of a healing spell. Part of her just wanted to sink into blessed, pain-free unconsciousness; it would be so easy. She would not die, the Keystone would preserve her life. She thought of Gavin. She heard voices from the audience, shouting her name, calling her to awaken. Her apathy burned away and she found the will to w
eave the pattern and channel her magic through it. Healing magic flooded her body. Her hands twitched, unconsciously seeking the comfortable, familiar hilts of her twin obsidian blades.
Gavin twisted, gritting his teeth as the massive claw began to sheer painfully through his thick leather battle kilt. He got his arm up just in time; the scorpion's barbed tail, pregnant with venom, skipped off his shield and then darted at him again. He tried to attack its mind, but he had exhausted his magic. His free hand groped for his sword while he kicked against the scorpion's other claw, preventing it from getting a hold of his legs and then pulling him apart.
The audience was breathless, save for a few stalwart fans shouting encouragement, caught up in the horror of Gavin's desperate struggle. Meady Mox smiled to himself from his seat in the front row; he'd wager that confidant young Gavin was going to regret making this match. The snare-grass had been a nice touch, robbing Sadira of her mobility at just the right time. These two would regret getting uppity with him.
"Look!” A young girl caught sight of Sadira as she tried to rise; she pointed toward the wounded Gladiatrix. "She's getting up! She's going to make it. Get up. GET UP!"
Gavin felt a bone in his pelvis snap under the relentless pressure of the pincer that held him. His hand found his sword and, drawing it, he began to stab it at the beast. The attacks skidded off the creature’s thick chitinous carapace, and it continued to crush him and try to get at him with its tail and free claw.
The crowd began to shout encouragement, chanting Sadira's name. Many spectators lust for the sight of blood. Other patrons enjoy grand displays of superhuman skill or incredible magic. But, almost all of those who watch the Great Games unite in their support of a courageous Gladiatrix who has overcome pain to stand up and fight again. It is a sign of the quiet, hidden hope that binds a people together. Sadira could feel their energy; her channelling became stronger and her wounds began to close. Her hands found her swords among the moss. She pushed herself to her knees, screaming her defiance. The pain was overwhelming, but she mastered it. The crowd joined their voices to hers.
Gavin heard Sadira's war-scream and felt a surge of relief. The scorpion's tail skipped off his steadily wielded shield again and again. He held on, hacking with his sword, chipping away at the thick carapace of the claw that held him. He tried to make sure that the beast did not realize his partner was moving.
The first thing Sadira saw as her vision cleared was the bulk of the dead scorpion that had wounded her, Gavin's grim war-spear sticking out of the ruins of its head. She turned, feeling strength flow into her limbs, fighting away the pain. Gavin came into focus as she stood; she could see his red blood flowing from where the pincer was digging into his waist, slowly cutting him in half. She staggered forward, gaining strength with each step. Anger and adrenaline began to pump through her. Her strides lengthened.
Gavin struggled. His thrashing held the scorpion's attention.
Will gave Sadira strength; fury gave her purpose. She broke into a run, a primal surge of verdant magic powering her muscles allowing her to run at inhuman speed. She charged, colliding with the beast, driving the sharp points of her blood-hungry obsidian swords forward into a powerful lunge. Runes flashed as the tips of the curved twin blades met hard unyielding carapace; but this time Sadira was not to be denied, and her sabres plunged through the scorpion's armour just below the claw that held Gavin. Sadira screamed triumphantly as the claw fell off, spraying gore.
Passersby, outside of the Dreadwood Arena, stopped when they heard her cry of triumph, and the answering cheers of the audience that followed. Many wondered at what drama must be unfolding within to elicit such a powerful response.
Gavin hit the ground, prying the awful claw from his waist.
Deadly Sadira and the one armed scorpion circled each other, both mad with pain and fury. Swords rose and fell. Tail and claw tried to crush and impale the Gladiatrix who had taken its arm.
Gavin got to his feet and joined the melee. An orgy of violence ensued. Swords plunged, thrust, and cut. Claws snapped. Deadly tail met unyielding shield. Sadira whirled. Blood flew. People shouted and cheered.
At last the Scorpion collapsed; a bloody ruin. The Gladiators were too frenzied to plan a death blow. The vital fluids of both Gladiator and scorpion ran together on the ground. At the end of it all Sadira and Gavin collapsed against each other, barely able to stand as they saluted the crowd, basking in the frenzied cheers. Before they turned to leave, Sadira raised her blades to salute her fallen foes; the scorpions had put up a great fight and she loved them for that.
-----o
"It was not our best fight from a technical standpoint, but the crowd loved it." Sadira paused to take a drink of sweet Bloodgrape Wine. She and Gavin still felt sore after the fight, but they felt the need to celebrate despite their aches and pains. They were both happy and relaxed, sitting with their friends in a local tavern that catered to Arena fans and Gladiators. "Bloody Reckoning, we both nearly went down that time; those scorpions were tough! I think I'll have to grab a backup weapon that works better against heavy armour... I had my eye on a wicked greatsword back at the Campus Martius, perhaps I'll grab it when I go back for my next training session."
"A backup weapon would be great, little sister. Have you noticed how Gavin doesn't start winning until he brings out the short sword?" Smiling Ravius jested, and the others laughed. "I often wonder why he bothers with his spear."
"Oh shush, I love Gavin's spear." Sadira grinned, draining her wine-cup as the laughter erupted again. "It’s just the right length and girth in my eyes..."
Gavin rolled his eyes. Few Gladiators could resist that kind of joke. He leaned over Sadira, breathing her in, kissed her and took her wine-glass. "Refill my love?" She nodded.
"Wow Sadira, where can I find a man like that?" laughed Vintia. "He'll take a hit for you in the arena, he's pretty cute, and he even refills your wine without prompting.
"Those are the least of his talents," Sadira responded, smiling wickedly. "But on a more serious note the rest of you need to watch out for Mox's tricks in your matches. He sneaked that snare-grass into the contract brilliantly."
"If our Arena Master applied even half the talent to bettering his arena that he did to drinking, carousing, and protecting his position it would be the best venue in the region," said Ravius seriously. "It disgusts me the way men like him constantly call for less Deliberative interference in their business and then hide behind the regulations when it serves them. They give honest Arena Masters a bad name."
"Maybe the honest Arena Masters should help get rid of them then," mused Sadira.
Gavin lost track of their conversation as he neared the large wooden bar counter. He moved slowly, his body still aching from the fight. He shook a few hands, happy patrons congratulating him on his latest victory. It felt good to be among people who enjoyed his success.
Before he could put in his drink order, he felt a questing hand slide down his backside. He turned slowly, smiling, expecting to see Sadira. He was startled as he came face to face with a pretty golden-haired woman looking up at him with bright blue eyes and an amused expression. It was the Gladiatrix Bella, he realized with a sinking feeling. Ravius had pointed the female Gladiator out to him earlier; she and her partner Cat were local favourites after winning several pairs Death-matches against other Gladiators. Her eyes stared into his, glistening lips inches away from his. Cat, her near twin, except for hazel eyes, came up behind him.
"Hi Gavin; you were great today." Bella leaned in as she said this, her hand coming up between his legs, cupping his tingling scrotum and starting to stroke him. He started to get hard in spite of himself. Cat put her arms around his waist from behind, gently biting the back of his neck. He started to shake them off, flustered and a little ashamed at his body's traitorous response. "Feel like a little threesome to celebrate?"
This did not escape Sadira's attention. It was not meant to.
"WHORE!" Sadira's fist came cra
shing in, but Bella side-stepped, having anticipated and planned for this. Cat leapt on Gavin's back with a cheerful whoop while Bella brought an armoured knee hard into Sadira's face. The later felt a tooth come loose and threw her arms up to protect her head as Bella drove her face into the wooden bar counter.
"STOP!" The voice crackled with authority. A trio of Grey-Robed officers of the Deliberative stood near them. They appeared so suddenly that Vintia and Karmal, following Sadira, were not even halfway to the brawl. Bella let go of Sadira's hair and backed away quickly. Cat planted another kiss on Gavin and slid off him. Sadira, trembling with rage, got to her feet, tasting blood and feeling more humiliated than ever before in her entire life. Bella had groped Gavin and then made a fool out of her. It was obvious to Sadira that the pair of them had planned this. She wanted to hurt them, to rescue her shredded dignity. But the authority of the Grey-Robes is strong and she did not even consider giving in to rage and attacking Bella while they were there.
"What is the meaning of this, Gladiators?" The Grey-Robe speaking was a young, severe Dwarven woman, her voice precise and commanding.
Bella, looking serious and contrite, spoke up quickly. "We were just congratulating Honoured Gladiator Gavin on his win. Cat and I thought he might like to join our team. We were about to open negotiations when Sadira charged in out of nowhere and tried to hit me. I guess after her poor performance in the arena today she felt threatened. So sad."
Sadira's eyes widened. Her face became scarlet.
"That... gutter slut... was groping... MY... boyfriend!" she spat, measuring each word, gazing daggers at Bella. Blood dribbled down her chin and her eyes blazed.
Bloodlust: A Gladiator's Tale Page 12
