"Enough! I see exactly what is going on here. Bella Sanguia and Sadira Lacivia your conduct is dangerous and unbecoming of a Gladiatrix outside the arena. You are both confined to quarters until further notice. You will go immediately and will not leave without sanction. This incident will be entered onto your permanent records."
"Officers, I request a Deathmatch against Bella!" Sadira's eyes did not leave Bella's face.
"Child, do not...." One of the other Grey-Robes spoke up, trying to calm her.
"I accept. Cat and I are always ready to gut a bitch like you." Bella smiled, turning away from Sadira and batting her lashes at Gavin "Don't worry Gavin, we'll let you live..."
"SHUT UP!" The stout Dwarven Grey-Robe silenced Bella with a voice like a peal of thunder, shocking the rowdy bar into absolute stillness. "If either of you open your mouths again, before you get back to your respective quarters, I will have you severely reprimanded. Leave now without a word or suffer our further displeasure.
Chapter Eight: Death of a Gladiatrix
1140/09/17 AR, Dreadwood Junction
"Never let a stronger Gladiator get his hands on you. The law of strength is difficult to overcome in the arena, impossible in some situations. If you want to win against a stronger fighter, you must not let them get a hold of you." Mistress Firetongue in a lecture to her first year class.
"I love seeing a Gladiator get what's coming to him." Anonymous fan.
Sadira could hardly contain her fervour as the day of their match against Bella and Cat dawned. The chance to prove herself in a Death-match against a hated adversary kindled her inner fire to new heights. She felt that this was the only suitable way of reclaiming her honour from Bella after their humiliating encounter in the bar. The fear of her own death did not enter her mind.
Sadira was aggressively playful with Gavin when they woke in the morning, partly from her own excitement but also to extract any lingering desires from her lover's body; she did not want Cat or Bella to distract him. Gavin enjoyed the extra attention; aside from the sheer joy of love-play, it kept his mind off the fight. He was very much aware that this might be the last time he held Sadira in his arms.
Afterwards they went together to the local rune-smith, buying some fresh malted bread and sour apples from a street stand to sate their hunger as they walked. Sadira's house arrest had ended a few days previously; she was still enjoying the simple pleasures of freedom regained. The worn cobble-stone, moss and mud covered streets of Dreadwood Junction had never seemed more pleasing to her. Of course she was so busy fantasizing about her coming victory over hated Bella, that she was insensible of anything that might otherwise have irritated her.
Gavin was in a much more thoughtful mood. Unlike Sadira who never contemplated failure, except as an abstract notion, Gavin was often haunted by the prospect that they might lose. The months since the bar-brawl that brought about this fight had crept by with agonizing slowness for him. He was beset by worries that Bella might take advantage of Sadira's reckless temper and get the better of her, as she did in the bar. Skirmishers fought that way, forcing their opponents to make mistakes that they could exploit, and Bella had shown her advantage over Sadira with a savage knee to the face already. The thought of Sadira being killed made him deeply uneasy, and he shivered inwardly as if he'd been plunged into ice water.
The rune-smith occupied a two story house with walls of fitted stone, covered in a grey-green moss and the leafy thorn creepers that flourished on Dreadwood Junction's older buildings. It was conspicuous among the rest of the houses in that section of town; the hand-painted sign was less ostentatious than that of the other shops, but it was the only one to be decorated by the seal of the Deliberative, bright and clear. This seal signified that the shop was one of the few where Gladiators could spend their Victory Coins on goods that were approved for use within the arena.
Olga, the stern faced rune-smith, looked a great deal older than most of her ageless Gifted peers. She would have said it was because she no longer felt young. She had earned her freedom through long years of public service as a vassal in Krass and the northern border cities. She still worked commissions for money and for love of the craft; in truth her skills were much sought after and Gavin and Sadira were quite pleased that they could secure her services. Master Ironwall had sent them a recommendation, ensuring that the retired, but busier-than-ever, Olga would help them. Ironwall had introduced Olga to many master rune-smiths of the Dwarven people, increasing her mastery of the craft, and she went out of her way to help the old Gladiator.
"Hello again," she nodded in greeting to the two young Gladiators as they entered her shop. Their eyes and expressions had yet to take on the nuances that showed on older Gifted, subtly marking their age. She did not envy their youth.
"Sorry I called you in so early, but I wanted to make sure I would have time to make corrections before your match tonight."
"We're just glad you could help us, rune-smith Olga," responded Sadira. "I admire dedication to your work."
"It is no trouble at all, dear," said Olga, smiling. "Now. I've set up the training dummies again and would like you both to take a few practise swings after you attune yourselves, just like last time."
Their gear was neatly laid out before them, polished and immaculate, and she had set up some sturdy training dummies for them to practise on while she checked over the runes once more. In truth Olga had finished their weapons and armour weeks ago, but being a perfectionist she had wanted to make several small adjustments to her work, refining it each time. Getting it as perfect as possible was part of her enjoyment.
As has been noted by many observers of the Great Games, Gladiators love their weapons and armour with obsessive intensity. To touch a Gladiator's gear borders on intimacy (It is, in fact, a common method of flirtation for older fighters; a slow, admiring finger running lazily up the haft of an axe is an obvious signal to all but a Freshie). Thus Olga was not surprised when Sadira bestowed a bone-cracking hug upon her after testing her sleek obsidian blades against the scarred iron training dummy. She understood the young Gladiatrix; after all, does not a master craftswoman love her tools like her own children?
Sadira was so thrilled she did not even bother to go to the dressing room to put on her armour. Shame, like fear, was not part of her emotional landscape. Both Olga and Gavin rolled their eyes at this, but said nothing; you would have an easier time telling the sun not to shine. They exchanged smiles while Sadira slipped out of her dress and put on her armour.
"I have reworked and replaced all your older runes. I feel they attune better if they are all from the same smith." She smiled as they gave her their youthful gratitude. "For the best results I suggest you return to me when you need more runes or enchantments added to your weapons; I will be glad to take you both for future work."
"You are too kind, Rune-Mistress," said Sadira. The white haired woman could not help being charmed by the young Gladiatrix. Sadira's presence seemed to fill the room with a pure vibrant energy; it made her feel more vivacious than she had in some time.
"That is an interesting armour design Honoured Gladiatrix," Olga said seriously. "Quite a bold take on light armour."
"Thank you. I designed it myself with help from my sisters when I was in training." said Sadira, beaming joyfully at the compliment. "I wasn’t really comfortable in any of the standard types in use today, so I searched through the archives of the Campus Gladius for inspiration. It combines elements of Chosen Giselle's armour and the ceremonial armour worn by the priestesses of my people, from before the Reckoning."
Gavin took more time in his testing, listening to the two women talk while he attacked the dummy. Olga's work was more than satisfactory; her runes were beautiful, alive and vibrant to his magical senses. He attuned to them easily, a most pleasurable sensation compared to some of the earlier runes he had used. His armour felt more comfortable and sturdier than ever; he almost expected the lion that adorned it to roar to life. He could feel the run
ic patterns working their magic on his weapon, making the point of his spear sharper and harder as the power trickled from him through the complex form of the rune, and into the perfectly wrought metal of the spear. He stopped to admire his trusty weapon.
"That spear is a rare find young man." The rune-smith walked over to him and showed him the well hidden makers mark. "The smith who made it is an old acquaintance of mine, Liam Valcoeur. He was once a Gladiator and he knows weapons better than almost anyone; it was a pleasure to work with one of his again."
"Interesting; It is all the better for your expert work Honoured Crafts-mistress," Gavin said with a deep bow. Olga paused for a moment, then smiled and went back to her conversation with Sadira, who seemed very excited to discuss the merits of light armour with her. Gavin looked again at his spear several times during his testing, grateful for the information; he was curious about the maker of his weapon.
"It might take him a few more hours of testing, but I'm sure he'll be satisfied" Sadira teased playfully.
"Well, perhaps I can gain your favour as well Gladiatrix..." Olga smiled as Sadira raised an eyebrow. She pointed to an object on a nearby table, its form hidden by a cloth. "A new sword arrived by courier a few days ago, courtesy of a certain thoughtful young gentleman. I have made it battle ready. You could even use it today if you wish. It has the same basic rune patterns as your smaller swords but adjusted..."
Her words were drowned out by Sadira's uncharacteristically girlish squeal of delight. The Gladiatrix tore the cloth away to reveal the naked blade underneath. It was an elegant greatsword she'd been thinking of buying from the Campus Martius in Krass. The blade was made for a Gladiator, heavy enough that an ungifted man much larger than Sadira would have found it somewhat unwieldy. It was also far too long for a normal person to heft comfortably, requiring a master swordswoman's deft touch and the supernatural strength of a Gladiatrix. Sadira lifted it with one hand, cradling it lovingly in front of her, eyes drinking in all the details while she channelled a tiny flow of power to attune to the runes. This is turning out to be a great day for me, she thought, Gavin is so thoughtful.
Sadira's new sword had a five and half foot blade, as wide as Gavin's hand. It was elegantly curved and made of the same obsidian coloured metal as her slender twin sabres and gold embossed armour. The pommel at the end of the foot-long grip was set with a large sky sapphire the colour of her lover's eyes, edged with gold enamel. She simply adored it. Arena rules stated that she would have to pay for the blade herself, but much of the expensive cosmetic detailing was done at Gavin's expense; it was so thoughtful.
"I can enchant that gem when you earn enough Victory Coins, Sadira," Olga said, grinning at the Gladiatrix's rapture. This was the best part of her work now, watching people's wonder at things she helped create. "Sapphires have an affinity for frost and liquids. I'd love to do it for you now; I don't like that Bella, but you know the rules..."
"I love you both so much." Sadira's eyes watered; she was so overwhelmed with happiness. "This is such a great gift."
After Sadira recovered her composure, she tested the blade until Olga was satisfied with the enchantments (as satisfied as she would ever be at any rate). The two fighters showered the rune-smith with thanks and much praise until they left, leaving the stern-faced Rune-Mistress flush with joy. They were such a cute couple. She almost wanted to go watch them at the arena, but she'd lost the stomach for Death-matches long ago.
Out on the street Sadira embraced Gavin again, planting kisses all over his face.
"I love you so much." She held herself tightly against his body. Hot desire coursed through Gavin as her breasts and hips pushed against him. "I wish we had just a bit more time before the fight... but I swear this to you. I will use this wonderful gift you have given me to end that back-alley harlot, Bella... and then I will thank you in ways that will make what we did this morning seem tame."
"You don't need to, Sadira," he replied. "The look on your face is thanks enough. You only cry when you are happy, strange woman."
She kissed him again and started toward the arena, whooping with joy and skipping ahead of him as she did so. A pair of Grey-Robes followed after her, dutifully. The townsfolk steered away from the mad beautiful creature running through their streets, while Gavin followed with a happy grin on his face, overjoyed at his lover's response to his gift.
But, he was not all joy... for very soon they would risk death in the Arena.
-----o
Meady Mox started off the day a happy man. Even his timid, ill-used assistant had benefited from his good humour so far, enjoying the respite from her boss's rough hands and vicious temper. Deathmatches always drew better crowds; for this fight, seats were sold out even at ten times his normal price, including the additional seats on the wooden bleachers he had constructed to handle the extra capacity. He stood to make an immense profit today. The best part was, since the main fight involved only Gladiators, he would not have to pay for any replacement beasts no matter who was killed. If only the Great Games were more like the old days, when Deathmatches were more common; it would make each fight almost pure profit and rid the world of more troublesome bitches like the soon-to-be-headless Sadira.
The thought of proud, luscious Sadira meeting her end, begging for her life in front of the crowd made Mox ecstatic. And even if she and her boyfriend managed to beat Bella and Cat it was not really that bad for him; He would miss the fleshy romps that he had enjoyed with the two girls, but it was easy enough for him to find others like them. His arrangement with them couldn't last forever. After all, hadn't he seen lithe Bella talking to a visiting recruiter for the Red Faction recently? He frowned at the thought. Gladiatrices are all harlots and bitches, he thought, no loyalty to the men who make them what they are.
He was also looking forward to the lusty Karmal, who had consented to watch the match with him. At first the flame-haired Gladiatrix had been cold and formal in her dealings with him; but over the past months he had arranged to have several discussions with her. She now knew what he could do for her career, arranging better matches and introducing her to influential patrons. She had warmed considerably lately, but she was still maddeningly oblivious to his subtle, in his mind at least, hints that sexual favours were what he required from her. It looked like he was going to have to be blunt with her. The thought of getting his hands into that curly red hair while fucking her from behind was almost too much for him. There was something about her that excited him on a primal level.
Mox had built several private boxes for the match and rented most of them for an outrageous price. He had reserved one for his own use during the Deathmatch. He was sure that the power demonstrated by even having such an opulent enclosure, combined with the excitement of the match, would warm Karmal to him. If not, he had some mead and a little magic trinket that would help open the slut's legs for him.
The thought of watching arrogant Sadira dying with Karmal's succulent lips wrapped around his cock made Mox so hard he ached. He was so vile that he considered such thoughts normal, something that all men shared. He considered masturbating to relieve himself, but he had an assistant did he not? He called the poor woman into his office. It was a very good start to the day for Meady Mox. Very good indeed.
-----o
"Don't worry Gavin, we won't kill you!" Bella said cheerfully as they waited for the match to begin. Fights between Gladiators, especially Deathmatches, often have time allotted specifically for banter. The audience loves it, and Skirmishers like Bella and Ravius like to use this time to get under their opponent's skin. The Gladiatrix's armour consisted of a plated brazier, skirt, greaves and bracers. Her light armour was the same golden colour as her hair, edged with emerald green enamel. She carried a trident, a barbed metal filament net, and a long, saw-toothed dagger. She had started talking in a low, clear voice even before the announcer finished the long ceremonial speech that preceded every Death-match. "Like I said, you, me, and Cat would make quite a threesome. I li
ke your armour by the way. Can't wait to see what you've got for me under that kilt, babe..."
Cat said nothing. She wore middle-weighted armour, like Gavin, with large metal gauntlets sprouting curved ten-inch claws for weapons. Her armour was the same gold and green colour as her partner's. When she noticed Gavin looking at her, she licked her lips slowly. She was wearing a tiger-mask faceplate complete with whiskers. He almost laughed.
Sadira kept quiet. She knew Bella was trying to make her angry. Gavin had spent the last few months trying to show her that her anger often led to recklessness and poorly executed moves, and she had to admit he had a point. Bella, trained as a skirmisher like Ravius, was at her deadliest when taking advantage of her opponent's mistakes. She wondered what other moves her opponent had in her repertoire.
The bantering also gave the crowd time to settle, talk, and place wagers while getting a good look at the Gladiators. Betting at Deathmatches that pit Gladiators against each other was much more prevalent than in regular fights, partly because the efforts the Deliberative put into ensuring fairness in such a fight made for a comfortable wagering environment.
"Once I've killed this fat milk-cow, Gavin, you can spend the rest of the match eating my dripping wet snatch. Human pussy tastes so much better." Bella emphasized this by pointing to her crotch and lifting her skirt, "... trust me."
Cat laughed, making a meowing sound as she did so. Gavin quickly turned his head, rolling his eyes.
Sadira lost the battle with her temper and her hands flew to her swords. Bella grinned. Whispers rose among the audience and there was a sudden increase in bets placed favouring Bella.
"Look how eager the bitch is to die, Cat." Bella smiled broadly, her perfect teeth gleaming in the sun, confident she could handle Sadira. Cat made a purring sound, eager for the fight. "Shadow-Elf women are so angry... must be because they are so pale and ugly..."
Bloodlust: A Gladiator's Tale Page 13
