Morgan Rice: 5 Beginnings (Turned, Arena one, A Quest of Heroes, Rise of the Dragons, and Slave, Warrior, Queen)

by Morgan Rice

  “I see the way you look at Prince Thanos, but you would be foolish to think he would consider you anything but—”

  “I can assure you—” Ceres started.

  Stephania stepped so close to Ceres’s face that their noses were an inch away, and then she whispered through gritted teeth, “Don’t interrupt your superior when she is speaking!”

  Ceres squeezed fingers around the cart’s handles, her forearms now burning.

  “Prince Thanos may have hired you, but as his future wife, it is my responsibility to ensure his associations are trustworthy,” Stephania said.

  Now Ceres couldn’t hold back anymore.

  “Thanos told me he wasn’t going to marry you,” she said.

  Stephania flinched.

  “Thanos is a smart man, but he is no good judge of character. He probably failed to learn what transgressions there might be in your past before he hired you.”

  Did Stephania know about how she killed the slaver and his guards? Ceres wondered, now considering she could lose her position at the palace and be punished for it if it came out.

  “There are no transgressions in my past,” Ceres said sternly.

  Stephania laughed.

  “Oh, come now. Everyone has done something in the past they are ashamed of,” she said.

  Stephania picked up a sword from the handcart and poked Ceres’s leg with it. Oh, how Ceres wanted to give the rotten princess a lesson in swordsmanship, revealing how inept her clean, dainty, little monarch hands were. But she remained immovable.

  “And believe me,” Stephania said as she raised the blade to Ceres’s face, a hair away. “If there is so much as a sliver of a transgression in your past, I will find out, and then I will have you thrown out of the palace, headfirst.”

  Stephania tossed the sword onto the ground next to Ceres’s feet, the blade clattering as it landed.

  “Thanos is mine, do you hear?” Stephania said. “He has been promised to me by the king and queen and if you get in the way of our marriage, I will personally slit your throat while you are sleeping in my future summer home.”

  Stephania shoved Ceres with her shoulder as she walked by, heading toward the palace training grounds.

  *

  The second Ceres arrived at the practice arena, she could sense that something was wrong. It wasn’t that Stephania was glowering at her from beneath the willow trees, although their conversation was still swimming through Ceres’s mind, irritating her to no end. It wasn’t that it seemed the day would turn into the hottest one of the year, or that Thanos wasn’t here yet, practicing.

  As she rolled the handcart toward their weapon table, her eyes followed Lucious in the middle of the practice arena. He was clutching a bottle of wine in one hand, a sword in the other, and his new weapon-keeper knelt before him with a worried expression, while balancing an apple on his head. The weapon-keeper had several small cuts on his face, and one on his neck, Ceres saw.

  “Stay…very…still,” Lucious said, closing his eyes while pointing the tip of his sword toward the weapon-keeper’s head.

  The other royal warriors and their weapon-keepers stood watching, rolling their eyes, arms folded across chests.

  Stepping closer, Ceres could see that Lucious’s face and arms were bruised, one eye swollen and red. She couldn’t remember him becoming injured yesterday at the Killings. Had something happened after the event?

  She walked over to the table and started laying weapons out in preparation for when Thanos would arrive. Swords, daggers, a trident, a flogger.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Lucious stagger, causing the other royal warriors and a few weapon-keepers to laugh.

  Lucious touched the tip of his sword to the weapon-keeper’s nose, and the weapon-keeper winced with closed eyes as a drop of blood made its way into his mouth.

  “Don’t move a muscle or you could lose your head,” Lucious said. “And you would have no one to blame but yourself.”

  This was insane, Ceres thought. Couldn’t someone do something? She glanced at the others, but no one said a word or seemed to have any intent on helping Lucious’s victim.

  Next, Lucious raised his sword, but before he swung, the weapon-keeper whimpered and the apple fell from his head and onto the ground, bouncing on impact, rolling a few feet away.

  “I told you to remain still!” Lucious snapped.

  “I…I’m sorry,” the weapon-keeper said, cowering backward, fright in his eyes.

  “Get out of my sight, you useless piece of dung!” Lucious yelled.

  The young man rose from his knees and scurried over to Lucious’s weapon table. Just then, Thanos arrived.

  “Good morrow,” he said to Ceres, not having witnessed what just happened. “I trust you slept well?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Ceres said, now all of a sudden feeling much lighter from his presence.

  She continued to place weapons on the table, but when he remained quiet, she looked over at him. To her surprise, she found that he was studying her face with eyes that seemed to want possess her, and when she raised an eyebrow at him, his lips tilted upward into a hint of a smile.

  She felt her cheeks warm.

  Without a word between them, he began helping her organize the weapons.

  That’s odd that he would help me, Ceres thought. He’s a prince. Perhaps he was trying to show appreciation in return for how she had helped him at the Killings? He didn’t have to do that, Ceres knew, though she did know one thing. When he showed kindness like this, it was becoming more and more difficult to reconcile the caring man before her with the arrogant man she had always thought he was.

  Ceres glanced over to Stephania, and the princess’s eyes were spewing hatred toward her. Surely, it couldn’t be that Stephania was jealous of her? Thanos wouldn’t take interest in a commoner, would he?

  Ceres shook her head and laughed a bit, throwing the ridiculous thought out of her mind.

  “What is it?” Thanos asked, smiling.

  “Nothing,” Ceres said. “So, what happened to Lucious anyway?”

  “You mean the bruises?”

  “Yes.”

  “The king had him beaten for how spinelessly he acted yesterday,” Thanos said.

  Even though she, too, thought Lucious a spineless imbecile, Ceres couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. She had herself been bruised and battered countless times, and it wasn’t something she wished upon anyone.

  All of a sudden, Lucious yelled at his weapon-keeper, and just as she glanced up, she saw Lucious punching the young man in the stomach.

  “Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” Ceres asked.

  Immediately, Thanos strode over to Lucious, stopping a few feet away.

  “What are you trying to prove?” Thanos asked.

  Lucious scoffed.

  “Nothing.”

  Thanos took a threatening step toward Lucious.

  “Why would I have anything to prove to anyone? I mean, look at you, anything is better than having a ratty, thin girl as a weapon-keeper,” Lucious said with a scornful laugh.

  “I suggest you treat your weapon-keeper with respect, and if you don’t, I’m sure the king would see nothing wrong in leaving you to fend for yourself out in the arena,” Thanos said.

  “Is that a threat?” Lucious asked, eyes seething.

  Just then a messenger arrived and handed Thanos a scroll. Thanos read it, and looking back toward Ceres, he gave her a nod before heading toward the palace.

  Had he been summoned? Ceres wondered, not too thrilled about being left without any instruction.

  An Empire soldier stepped into the center of the arena and listed in which order the royals would spar, with Lucious against Argus first.

  “Finally!” Lucious said.

  He flung the bottle of wine onto the ground, shattering it, and his weapon-keeper offered him a sword. He snatched it, and then with contrived enthusiasm, Ceres thought, he strode onto the practice arena where Argus waited.


  The Empire soldier signaled the start of the match, and the royals began to spar. Lucious’s first attack ended with his sword smashing into the ground, some onlookers snickering, others rolling their eyes. Lucious used his energy unwisely, Ceres saw, his jabs and lunges careless, with far too much effort.

  The contenders took their places again, blade against blade, but within seconds of starting over, only a few hits in, Argus had hit Lucious’s sword out of his hands and pointed his tip against Lucious’s chest.

  As soon as the Empire soldier named Argus the winner, Argus lowered his sword and jogged off the practice arena.

  “Come on, cousin. Give me one more chance!” Lucious yelled after him. “I wasn’t even trying!”

  When Lucious saw Argus wouldn’t entertain him, he turned to his own weapon-keeper.

  “Xavier, spar with me,” Lucious said.

  “S…sire?” Xavier said with a nervous stutter. “I would, my lord, but I have no skill.”

  Angered, Lucious darted over to his weapon table, picked up a dagger, and stabbed Xavier in the abdomen.

  Ceres’s hand hit her mouth, and she gasped with the others as the weapon-keeper cried and fell to the ground, arms wrapped around his waist.

  “Get the runt out of my sight!” Lucious yelled.

  Within a few seconds, Empire soldiers hoisted the moaning weapon-keeper onto a stretcher and carried him away.

  “What I don’t understand,” Lucious said, making his way over to Georgio’s table, “is how I always get stuck with incompetence. Georgio, friend, lend me your boy.”

  Georgio stepped between his weapon-keeper and Lucious.

  “Lucious, you know I hold you in high regard. But this is insanity. Go home,” Georgio said with a chuckle, resting a hand on Lucious’s shoulder.

  “Get your pretty-boy hands off me!” Lucious yelled, whacking Georgio’s arm away.

  Yelling obscenities, Lucious walked over to another weapon-keeper, demanding he spar with him, but his master refused, too.

  “Will no one fight me?” Lucious yelled, turning in a slow circle as his eyes scanned the bystanders. “Are you nothing but pitiful chicken droppings?”

  With animosity in cold eyes, he continued to scrutinize the spectators, but most turned their eyes away.

  Then he saw Ceres.

  A pit formed in her stomach as he stomped toward her, pointing.

  “You!” he yelled. “You will fight me!”

  Ceres felt she would win a match against him, yet she was reluctant to accept, fearing she might hurt him, or make him look like the incompetent warrior he was in front of his peers. And if she made him look incompetent, she suspected Lucious would make certain she lost her position at the palace.

  “I mean no disrespect, but I cannot fight you,” she said.

  “You will!” Lucious said. “In fact, I command you to spar with me.”

  She glanced at the others, some of them shaking their heads, others looking away, Stephania grinned wickedly. Could she refuse him? And what would happen if she did? Would Lucious fire her? Reason told her he probably would.

  “Then I must accept the command,” she said, thinking it might be better to accept than refuse him.

  Lucious’s face lit up.

  “But first, may I fetch my sword from the blacksmith’s chalet?” Ceres asked, thinking of her father’s sword.

  “Hurry along, little rat,” Lucious said.

  His comment exasperated her, but she would not let insulting words from a drunken coward affect her.

  Excited as a spring day to finally be able to use her sword in real one-on-one combat, Ceres ran to the blacksmith’s chalet and located her sword in the loft where she had left it. She sprinted back to the practice arena and took her spot across Lucious, who was standing ready with his own sword.

  Lucious took one look at Ceres’s sword, and his jaw dropped open.

  “Where would a rodent like you get a weapon like that?” he asked with covetous eyes.

  “My father gave it to me.”

  “Well, what a fool he must have been,” Lucious said.

  “And why is that?” Ceres asked.

  “Today I will triumph over you, and when I do, your weapon will be mine.”

  Lucious lunged at Ceres, their blades colliding. Although Lucious was rather lacking in muscularity, gangly even, he was strong. After blocking a few blows, she began to doubt whether or not she would be able to win.

  He slashed again but she resisted, and sword pressing against sword, they encircled as they stared into each other’s eyes. She could see his hatred for her in those hazel irises, and she wondered what she possibly could have done to deserve it.

  He shoved her hard so she had to move back several steps so as not to fall, and then he hacked at her from above, as she blocked from below.

  A low rumble of excitement made its way through the bystanders.

  Lunging, she slashed, but he retreated and wobbled a bit, his brow misted with sweat, his shoulders tense.

  But then Lucious’s eyes darkened, and he swung at her, rashly. She jumped over his blade, and just as she landed, she kicked him in the abdomen so he fell onto his back.

  He didn’t move for a moment, and Ceres wondered if he was unconscious. But a sudden shriek spilled out of his lips and he sat up. Leaning on his sword, he climbed to his feet while mumbling something underneath his breath.

  “You’re better than I thought, I’ll give you that,” Lucious said. “But I was going easy on you. Now I’m finished playing games, and you, little rat, must die.”

  Sweat stung Ceres’s eyes, and she raised her sword as she exhaled several forceful breaths. She could feel Stephania’s glare at the back of her head, and it made her want to triumph all the more.

  Coming at her, Lucious attacked with all his might. She pretended she would meet him head on, but then swerved last minute and kicked her legs between his, and he tumbled to the ground onto his belly.

  His sword skidded across the ground, stopping a few feet away, and then there was utter silence.

  Lucious rolled onto his back. Ceres stood above him, holding the tip of her sword at his throat, waiting for the Empire soldier to call the winner.

  But the soldier remained silent.

  She looked up, and the Empire soldier still said nothing, an impassive expression on his face.

  Glowering, Lucious climbed to a standing position and spit on the ground next to Ceres’s feet.

  “I refuse to acknowledge a girl’s victory,” he said.

  Ceres took a step forward.

  “I won fair and square,” she said.

  Lucious raised his hand and backhanded her across the cheek, the demoralizing assault causing several observers to gasp. Without even a second thought, acting only on rage and impulse, Ceres slapped him in return.

  Right as her hand hit his face, she knew it was a huge mistake; yet there was not a thing she could do to take it back. Everyone had seen it, and although she wasn’t quite certain what the punishment was for striking a royal, she knew it would be severe.

  Holding his cheek, Lucious looked at her with wide, surprised eyes and for a few moments, it was as if time had frozen.

  “Arrest her!” he yelled, pointing at her.

  Ceres faltered a few steps back, time passing as if in a nightmare. But her mind seemed to not want to function, and before she could even think what to do or what to say, two Empire soldiers had grabbed her arms.

  A moment later they were dragging her away, far from here, and far from the life she had almost had.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Rexus!”

  Rexus turned to see a frantic Nesos sprinting toward him, and his heart flooded with dread. Nesos had been dispatched on an important mission, so his being here couldn’t be good, Rexus knew.

  Nesos skidded to a halt right in front of Rexus, dust stirring the air, and rested hands on knees while he panted.

  “I just came… from northern Delos and… the Empi
re soldiers are everywhere… saying new laws are being enacted, they are hauling off… firstborn men, slaughtering… anyone who refuses,” Nesos said, still breathless, sweat running down his face.

  Rexus’s blood curdled. He shot to his feet and took off at a run toward the main entrance of the castle. He had to warn the others.

  “Next they will attack Delos east, then west…and finally south,” Nesos said, trailing after him.

  Rexus had an idea.

  “Take with you a few men and send every dove we have to warn our supporters,” he said. “Ask them to meet below North Square as soon as possible and with as many weapons as they can carry. We will free these firstborns so they can join the rebellion. I will gather the supporters here and ride out immediately.”

  “Right away,” Nesos said.

  It begins here, Rexus thought as he ran toward the others. Today they would make a stand and kill in the name of freedom.

  Within moments Rexus had over a hundred men and fifty women assembled in front of the cascading waterfall, ready on horses, weapons in hand. As he explained the plan to the revolutionaries, he saw fear in their eyes. A fearful warrior would not win any battles, he knew. And so he stood before them to speak.

  “I see in each of your eyes the terror of death,” Rexus said.

  “Fear you not death?” a man yelled from the crowd.

  “Yes, I do. I have no wish to die. But more than fearing death, my deepest fear is living the rest of my life on my knees,” Rexus said. “More than fearing death, I fear I will never know freedom. And these firstborn men can help us attain that.”

  “But we have children!” a woman yelled. “They will be punished for our rebellion!”

  “I have no children of my own, but I know the fear of losing someone dear. If we win, your children and your children’s children will never know oppression the way we have. And would you not rather your children follow in your example of courage than your example of fear?” he said.

  The militia grew ghostly silent, and nothing but the roar of the waterfall and the occasional neighing of a horse could be heard.

  “Do not fool yourselves into believing the Empire will give you liberty,” Rexus said.