"I happen to like this type of fight! Does that make me some kind of degenerate, my love?" Sadira did not allow her voice to betray her feelings. She was proud of her growing self-control, having learned that her temper could be a major weakness. "We are Gladiators, my love. We did not choose the bloodless bondage of the Vassals; we chose to keep our magic, to compete for a place among the Chosen, to fight and to kill, to risk death, all for the pleasure of the crowd. This is what we do."
"I didn't mean to insult you Sadira," he sighed. He was often afraid that she would turn away from him when he confided his growing dislike of the more brutal aspects of their profession. "I know you were just trying to be efficient, arranging a quick match when you got the opportunity. I'm sorry if I over-reacted."
"You're right. I should have sought your approval: we are a team, after all," she said, smiling at him.
"Thank you," he replied.
"You need to open up to me, my love." She sighed. She could sense his inner turmoil was serious, and she always felt left out when he did not ask for her help; she wanted to be his partner in every sense. "It feels like I'm losing you to yourself sometimes. You should tell me these things: I want to know your thoughts. I want you to confide in me. We're friends, lovers, partners. You don't have to hide your thoughts from me."
"I'm not hiding anything." Gavin shrugged, exasperated and shamed. He did not meet her gaze. He turned his back to her, looking out the window; a pair of Gladiators were engaged in a training duel in the park, their weapons catching the sun, bright silver and steel. Honesty was the best option in the end, he had always found. "I can't quite find the words for what ails me, Sadira. I struggle with it daily, in my thoughts. Sometimes the games sicken me; sometimes I revel in them. I feel like a man in the ocean with no idea which way to swim to reach land. Does that make sense?"
"Not to me. but I'm glad you tried," She put her arms around his waist and pulled herself to him, nuzzling her head against his neck. Her keen senses drank him in, the way his pulse quickened at her touch, his familiar scent, the feel of his muscles and his skin."I just feel shut out of your life when you don't confide in me. One day you will work it out; I just want to be a part of that, to help you if I can." She clung to him for a moment, then kissed the back of his neck. As she let go, Gavin caught her hand and raised it to his lips.
"You and the others are my family Sadira; I'm sorry if I seem distant to you at times." He smiled at her. "No one is more important to me. You are as the sun to me; my whole world revolves around you. When I wake up and see you beside me, I feel special, invincible, better than any man should. I love you."
"Pretty words for a Gladiator," she said, blood quickening. She stepped forward, pulling herself to him; passion kept them together for a long time. "Maybe when I am a Chosen you can be my poet-consort"
"If you aren't tired of me by then,." he laughed.
"Mine is not the kind of love that fades," she said seriously, enjoying his smile. He only laughed and smiled for a few people; it was something she treasured.
"Come on, the others will be waiting. Let's go meet them, my bloodthirsty goddess." But Gavin felt a touch of sadness as she turned away. He had been a little dishonest, and Sadira was right to call him out for this. She never hid anything from him. But how could he tell fierce, fearless Sadira that he often felt that he had chosen the wrong path. Although he was a good fighter, he was coming to hate the wanton killing, the endless bloodlust of the arena. He dreaded the upcoming slaughter match. He was sometimes afraid that he had become a coward, or worse yet, a Heretic. How could Sadira, pure and free of doubt, love him if she knew these things?
-----o
Slaughter matches are a favourite of the Red Faction. The goal is simple: to kill as many opponents as possible in the allotted time. A basic slaughter match involves a large group of weaker monsters herded into the arena. The ideal balance in the minds of most arena masters is to allow just enough creatures to give the fighters a bit of a challenge. Too many creatures and the Gladiators will be forced to defend instead of kill, too few and the match will lack drama and proper pacing. In Faction games, teams get points for kills in this match type, with spectacular kills sometimes being awarded additional points based on style, with varying criteria. "Kill of the day" stories are very popular reading on link crystals. Usually the teams take the field separately, competing against each others scores; however the very best teams in the largest arenas would occasionally compete directly, fighting at the same time.
Arena Master Druth shared Gavin's dislike for this type of match; he only allowed them at all because of their popularity with arena patrons. Slaughter matches showcased the sheer destructive power of a Gladiator, but ignored all other aspects of their skills and training. A defender, like Gavin or Vintia, was at a severe disadvantage in such a match. A survival match, on the other hand, required good defensive skills to keep the massed enemy at bay, and offensive skills to thin their numbers; lacking either would ensure the fighters got overwhelmed. A proper match against a powerful monster or team of Gladiators was even better, testing all of a fighter's skills and cunning. Slaughter matches also reminded Druth, old veteran that he was, of too many tales of massacres on the borderlands, whispered around the campfires late at night. Replaying those massacres for entertainment struck him as pandering to the worst kind of violent impulse, instead of the celebration of skill that the arena was to him.
-----o
"The one who gets the least kills serves the ale for the rest of the night, sound good?" Ravius said with a broad, good-natured smile. He was in cheerful mood; he was doing well in the arena and making contacts among the Gladiators and in the Faction. Although he had originally wanted to join a lesser faction and go to the free leagues, he was glad Gavin and Sadira had pulled him into the Reds with them. It was good to be with friends.
They were all seated around a large Ironwood table in the spacious dining room which now served as their gathering place, and preparation area, getting ready for the match. They had settled into the small town nicely now, and their rustic house was looking less bare. Omodo was eating a heaping plate of thick, fat soaked bacon, trying to gain mass for his training in the Path of the Juggernaut. Vintia was drinking a strong pepper-tea, its scent filling the room with the ghost of spice. The rest of them were busily checking and fixing up their gear.
"I'm in!" Karmal eyed Sadira as she spoke. Her long friendship with the deadly Shadow-Elf was partly based on childhood rivalry; they loved training and competing with each other. "After all Sadira and I are the only ones who really have a chance to get the most kills."
"I don't know little sister; I plan to follow one of you around and finish off the wounded." Ravius grinned broadly as Karmal rolled her eyes. "A little kill stealing to pad out my numbers!"
"I'm sure the spectators would call you on that Ravius," said Sadira, trying to match her voice to the tone her beloved mother used when scolding her for playing with sharp knives as a child. "Don't forget people, we are supposed to work as a team, even if you make a wager. Also don't forget about Omodo; I think he has a serious shot."
The big Armodon smiled. He was not really interested in the competition, but the banter kept his mind off his anxiety about performing in front of the crowd.
"Ravius just wants me or Gavin to pay for him getting drunk!" Vintia looked up from her tea, pinching her lower lip thoughtfully. "This type of match is unfair to us defenders. I'm just glad we are officially working as a team; I'd hate to have a loss on my record as a result of a match I'm not suited for."
"I agree," added Gavin, "but like Sadira said, this is a team effort, wager or not."
"Maybe you should pick up some offensive spells Vintia; you're skilled with the elements aren't you little sister?" Ravius said, teasing. "Perhaps that pillar of flame spell Karmal knows would help make up for your limitations..."
"Well... little brother... perhaps you'll be more thankful of the spells that I have already learn
ed next time I use them to protect you in a match," Vintia said in an even tone, wrinkling her nose. "After all, my role is to defend my team-mates so they can concentrate on attacking without worrying about who has their back. I do this very well, thank you. Besides Karmal is learning full on Pyromancy; my spells can't compete with that!"
Sadira's interest suddenly piqued and she shot Karmal a look. Karmal grinned back at her. Gavin felt her tense; she took any challenge seriously, even from her friends.
"I picked up the basics for pillar and fireball while I was in Krass for my second interrogation." Karmal's smile faded a little and she looked distant for a moment. Only Sadira noticed. "The rest I learned on my way through the south. I think I might be able to blast my way to victory, even over you Sadira..."
"If you do girl, I'll gladly serve you and everyone here drinks all night." Sadira relaxed, smiling as she continued. "But next time you accuse me of being cliché, do remember that you are a hot redhead specializing in Pyromancy; you can't get much more stereotypical than that."
Gavin smiled at them as they bantered, but the coming match still loomed large in his mind.
-----o
It had been a while since Gavin had last seen Karmal fight in the arena, a hard fought duel against an armoured troll in Dreadwood. Her kit was a deep forest green, edged in gold. Like Gavin she was classed as a medium armoured fighter, but her protection was skimpier on the chest, exposing her cleavage through a metal corset, but much thicker on the upper legs and vitals. She wore a heavy spike-fist gauntlet on one hand, a lethal punching weapon, and a small spiked buckler on the other. Her main weapon, however, was a brutal war-cleaver. This massive slab of metal, favoured by those who prefer power over finesse, looked like a giant version of a butcher's instrument; the thick, wedge-edged blade could crush armour and hack a man in half with ease. It was not an elegant weapon, and it looked out of place in Karmal's hands, at least until you saw the skillful ease with which she wielded it.
Ravius had re-enamelled his blue armour once he joined the reds; it was now an obnoxious, attention grabbing combination of garish crimson edged in ugly maroon. His trident and net were startlingly plain in comparison.
Omodo wore his plain, functional heavy armour, which was starting to get too small for his growing frame. His heavy maul and armoured horn were polished to a high sheen. He would be leading them into the arena again.
Vintia wore her blue-white mithril plate and chain, but had switched her heavy tower shield for a razor shield like Gavin's, hoping to increase her killing power for this match. It was an unusual move for the little defender. Vintia wanted to do well in this match; she did not like being overlooked.
Sadira had left her elegant great-sword, Bellasdoom, behind, not wanting to soil it on lesser foes. She was otherwise equipped as usual. She was considering changing the colour of the scorpions on her armour to red, to show her allegiance to the Faction, but had yet to come up with a satisfactory look.
Gavin drank them all in with a glance as they waited. He smiled, thinking how much he enjoyed their company. It was good to be among his friends, deadly Sadira at his side; and yet he still did not feel quite at ease. This type of match was senseless violence in his view. He wondered what the others would say if he let his views be known. Karmal would no doubt scoff at him. He wished he were somewhere else, free of doubt and uncertainty. The moment seemed to stretch.
Reality came crashing back upon him like a blood-tide as the trumpets rang. The six Gladiators trotted into the arena. Two dozen rabid beastmen awaited them, snarling threateningly and snapping their foaming jaws. Chains clinked as they lunged and pulled, trying to get to the Gladiators. Omodo, Sadira, Karmal, Ravius, Vintia, and then Gavin entered the fighting grounds. The announcer shouted their names to the fight-hungry audience filling the stands, who cheered in response. They raised their weapons to salute the crowd.
Images from the Manticore and the pleading eyes of the doomed Olek Agvarson swirled in Gavin's head. He took a deep breath, trying to focus.
Sadira could sense Gavin's discomfort but her blood was hot for battle. She looked at Karmal and smiled at the challenge in her friend's eyes. She turned and made a rude gesture at the beastmen. The crowd cheered.
The trumpets sounded. The chains fell from their foes, who sprang forward without pause, eager to sink tooth and claw into Gladiator flesh.
Sadira's war-scream split the air as she sprinted forward, filling herself with the verdant strength of her magic. Omodo followed on her heals, keeping up as best he could, his horn lowered, massive maul held high to strike.
Karmal channelled power, drawing deep from the wellspring of her Gift; starting to weave the complex patterns of the pillar of flame spell, which formed much more slowly than most combat magic. At the same time she drew the pattern for another spell and a fist sized ball of flame streaked over Sadira's head, slamming into a horned beastman, blossoming into a bonfire sized conflagration upon impact. The beastman hit by the fireball, and its nearest neighbour, were consumed by the hungry burst of flame, rolling around on the ground in a brief, smoking frenzy before expiring. Their demise elicited both cheers and laughter from the spectators.
Swift-footed Sadira leapt high and landed in the midst of the beastman herd, her twin obsidian blades slicing down in unison and hacking the arms off of an unfortunate creature as she landed. Blood splashed from her swords, painting bright arcs. She stepped forward and whirled, slashing all around her, staining the white sands red with the blood of her foes.
Omodo thundered into the beastmen beside her, tossing one into the air with his horn, and crushing another under the weight of his weapon. His sheer size and momentum allowed him to power deep into the pack. Their claws glanced from his heavy armour and thick hide.
Gavin ran forward to support Sadira. He did not have much of a taste for blood today, but he would not let her come to harm. Fists and talons pounded on his shield and armour as he pushed into the crowd of beast men.
Ravius and Vintia closed in as a pair, the skirmisher darting out from behind Vintia's deftly wielded razor shield to attack. He thrust his deadly trident into the first beast man that met him, killing it quickly. Others dived at him and he ducked low and swept the legs of the nearest with his folded net, causing it to tumble. Vintia chopped her sword down on this one, ending its life as she stepped forward to defend the skirmisher without missing a beat. Ravius laughed and whooped as they moved, drawing the attention of his rabid foes.
A trio of beastmen hurled themselves upon towering Omodo, but he did not even stagger under their weight. His armour and thick hide deflected most of the clawing and biting. He shook them off as casually as a dog ridding itself of water, crushing one with a powerful stomp as it landed at his feet.
Sadira danced away from clutching claws and hungry, drooling mouths. Her every movement was graceful and precise, elegant black blades lashing out and finding their targets without fail, spilling blood with each well-measured cut. Gavin moved near to her and she took advantage of the added protection he brought, focusing more of her attention on attacking. Gavin threw the beast men back, slamming them with his shield and jabbing at them with his grim war-spear. The crowd cheered, captivated by Sadira's bloody ballet.
"Taste cleaver, you shit-eating mongrel!" Karmal threw herself into the fray, screaming obscenities, nearly splitting a wolf-faced beastman in two with an overhand stroke from her mighty cleaver. Blood splashed onto her face and she grinned. She gloried in the violence, revelling in her own power, and enjoying the destruction she caused. The air around her seemed to roil and shift as she neared completion of a powerful spell.
Ravius cast his net; it glittered like a dew-kissed spider's web caught in the dawn sun as it flew, snaring a pair of hapless beastmen, bringing them crashing to the ground. They struggled wildly in its cruel embrace as the skirmisher and Vintia rushed forward to kill them with quick jabs of sword and trident. Then they turned and fought back to back as other beastmen
leapt at them.
The middle of the fighting grounds where the Gladiators battled was now strewn with broken corpses, and the blood of the beastmen mixed with the sand, creating a thick red mud. Only Gavin seemed to notice. He remained oddly detached from the match, as if watching his own body from the outside; even as he intercepted a creature trying to leap at Sadira knocking it to the ground and stealing its life with his spear-point. Although he did not pity the vicious, rabid beastmen, he could not bring himself to enjoy the slaughter either.
Sadira whirled and leapt, glorying in the exultation of the happy crowd. Omodo pushed and crushed. Ravius taunted and lunged. Karmal tossed fire and cleaved. Vintia blocked and thrust. The beastmen howled and clawed. The crowd cheered and clapped. Gavin's mind floated while his body killed.
"CLEAR!" Karmal's voice carried across the fray. The violence had reached a crescendo and the flame-haired elementalist unleashed her pillar of flame spell, aiming for the largest concentration of beastmen. Her team-mates knew the signal and backed away from her target. The spell had been weaving and building up power for more than a minute now. The ground boiled, the sand turning to glass, as bright, hot flames shot into the sky from beneath the feet of Karmal's hapless foes. The flesh melted from their bones, filling the air with ash and burning stink. Karmal let loose a triumphant war-shriek which was answered by Sadira's banshee wail as she leapt back into the fray, sharp blades flashing.
Rivers of blood ran through a landscape of gore and charred corpses, virgin white sand fouled into dripping bloody muck churned by the melee. Gavin felt detached, unsettled by the carnage, yet he chastised himself for not being able to partake fully in the action for the sake of his team.
A bloodied beastman, seemingly dead, leapt to its feet behind Karmal as she readied more magic. It threw itself onto her back, teeth piercing her neck as it bit down. She fell forward onto one knee, tossing it over her shoulder as she dropped and plunging her gauntlet blade into its bloody maw. Blood spurted from her wound, running freely down her shoulders and chest, but she ignored it and surged to her feat.
Bloodlust: A Gladiator's Tale Page 18
