"Just keep your head, my friend," said the Blue Gladiatrix in a low voice, smiling widely. "We are swimming with the sharks today. The Blue Faction teaches us to view this type of engagement as just another arena, one where whispers take the place of battle-shouts, rumours are like swords, and a caress can be deadlier than an axe-wound. A little melodramatic, but true I think. Everyone here has an agenda beneath that smile."
"Even you?" Sadira responded.
Minerva laughed joyously, tossing her head back. She really did remind Sadira of Ravius in some ways. "Especially me: I'm still trying to recruit you for the Blues, remember?"
"How could I forget?" said Sadira, smiling. "I wonder what I'm doing here, truth be told."
One of the other Blues tittered nervously and Minerva shot a warning glare at the offender; Sadira did not even bother looking back. They passed through a room filled with fragrant pink roses and little semi-private alcoves filled with women. Sadira continued. "This just isn't my field..."
"Well there are a few ways to answer that," said Minerva, turning back to Sadira. "In the end, you are here because you are the best and everyone loves a winner. Don't even try to be modest about it; Regina, our Chief Promoter, says you are the best Light Charger she has seen in twenty years. Most of our fighters don't want to go up against you. I'm actually surprised Blue Calamity challenged you directly this month; he was refusing to risk another loss a few months ago. Having his face mulched by those clockwork serpents must have scrambled his brain. Watch yourself with him, my friend."
"Thanks, but I still think he can beat me if he gets lucky," said Sadira, breathing in the heady, sweet smell of incense. She noticed with some satisfaction that Vintia and Karmal were talking with the Blue fighters behind them now, whispering excitedly at the delights they saw. "I'm not invincible."
"I'm glad to hear it," smiled Minerva, "but you are undefeated, highly skilled, and beautiful enough to have caught the eye of the crowd. Heretic's balls, I’d fight you just for the publicity. A hard-fought loss against you on my record would be like a win against any lesser Gladiatrix. Face it; until you falter or become a Chosen you will get more and more attention and invitations like this."
"What if she refuses them?" interjected Vintia as they passed through a corridor filled with red roses and steam tubs.
"That would be foolish, I think," said Minerva sombrely. "Refusing to come to an event like this makes you enemies, especially when you have appeared at other such parties. Some people see that kind of behaviour as a sign of cowardice or weakness, like refusing a challenge in the arena. No one wants to support an anti-social Champion; we have more than enough Chosen like that already. Besides you can take advantage of the festivities, make useful contacts, and have fun. Better to learn how to move in these circles. There are more opportunities here than there are pitfalls, especially once you know what you are doing..."
"It is what we do, after all," said Sadira, invoking her determination.
The group of Gladiatrices continued to follow the voluptuous golden-dipped attendant, pausing briefly to undress and store their clothing when they reached the threshold of the Grand Baths, a cavernous room filled with marble columns and three huge pools of hot water flanked by many smaller baths and adjoining steam rooms. The air was heavy with steam and the scent of incense.
"I've gotten my best arena placements through contacts I made at some party or other." Minerva continued at they moved through the room, attracting the languid eyes of nearby bathers. "We Blues don't have the system of recruiters that the Reds enjoy; we prefer to leave it up to individual initiative. I've also met a few patrons who have been very helpful; they may not be able to gift me with things I can use in the arena, but I have a ten room apartment full of beautiful possessions, three fully trained vassals who attend to my every need, and a date card that almost any woman would envy." Sadira chuckled; luxuries of that sort meant little to her. She hadn't even considered getting a vassal before Lina. She did not notice how Karmal's interest increased.
The Gladiatrices moved through the room like wolves, leaving murmurs in their wake. Their athletic figures and ageless faces were the envy of many that they passed, while their broad shoulders and warlike eyes made others tremble and turn away. Many more measured them respectfully, calculating what opportunities they heralded. A few women looked upon them and smiled, seeing a chance for new conquests...
Amoura Vogue, perhaps the only fully clothed woman in the grand baths, attired in a breath-taking dress made of living roses, was sitting at the end of the room with a circle of her favourites. A long line of women were presenting themselves to her, like supplicants to some great queen. The Gladiatrices joined the line, while their Grey-Robe escorts did their best to fade into the background, all except Cleothera, who stayed with them, whispering excitedly to Karmal, Vintia, and one of the Blues.
A shock ran through Sadira as she looked away from Amoura and met the bright eyes of the small, lithe woman sitting next to their hostess. The other's forceful gaze took her by surprise, making her feel as if she was being weighed and perhaps found wanting. There was something familiar about her. Sadira head spun as familiarity became recognition and she looked away.
"Is that...?" she said, nervously.
"Chosen Giselle... in the flesh," said Minerva, grinning at her friend. "Wow. I'd heard she might be here, but I was not expecting her to take centre stage like this. Her beauty and grace are as great as they say. I wonder if her bloodlust lives up to the rumours as well. This is interesting."
"It does," said Cleothera from behind them, silver brows furrowing. "Please be careful. Chosen Giselle's reputation is well deserved. Remember that she conquered the lands we now live in after winning her place among the Chosen, and that she is still young and prone to meddle in the affairs of Gladiators."
Minerva moved close to Sadira, her voice low. "I saw her look at you Sadira. She has something to say to you, I think."
Sadira had sent a letter of apology to the Chosen Giselle, after waiting over long to reply to her invitation of promotion to a higher league, the object of her earlier argument with Gavin. Now she was coming face to face with the Chosen that she might have spurned. However good her intentions had been, now she was going to face the consequences; the desires of a Chosen are not to be taken lightly.
The Gladiatrices, enraptured now, watched as the Chosen and Amoura greeted each guest. Amoura was tall, voluptuous, and expansive taking the lead with each greeting while Giselle radiated power and authority; she used only a hint of smile or a few words to bestow her favour, as if the full force of her personality might break those around her. The pair reminded her of exotic masterwork blade next to an opulent, gem-encrusted sceptre. Sadira felt as if every woman there was watching them as they approached. The energy in the room changed, like the pressure before a tornado strikes, as every woman sensed something important was about to occur.
Amoura, welcoming as ever greeted each one of them by name, even Cleothera, rising to embrace them with a kiss on each cheek. "Sadira, it is so good of you to come. Girls, I have the honour of presenting you to the Chosen Giselle, who has decided to grace my little gathering with her divine presence."
The Chosen nodded to Amoura and then looked them over, her powerful eyes expressive. She greeted the others, her voice quiet but overflowing with promise and power. Karmal, Vintia, and the Blues felt empowered and thrilled by the sound of their own names spoken by that voice, She stopped when it came time to acknowledge Sadira. The huge room went still.
Giselle looked at her, almond-shaped eyes hard and unreadable. Sadira looked away for a moment, thinking about how she had put off the Chosen's summons.
I will not be intimidated by this woman, rallied Sadira; I did what I did for good reason. She steeled herself against the Chosen's gaze. She felt a tingling sensation as the other woman looked her over, sensed power flickering all around the Chosen, but she did not falter under the weight of Giselle's eyes, this time. She
noticed Amoura's worried look, felt as if every person in the room wanted her to give in. But she held the Chosen's gaze, inclining her head respectfully after a moment. The room around them grew still; she could not even hear her companions breathe.
The Chosen broke the silence. The full force of her voice washed over them. "You are every bit as exquisite as I have heard, Sadira Lacivia." The Chosen's words were smooth and musical, every syllable perfectly measured. To compare the Chosen's voice to any other sound that Sadira had ever heard would be an insult, like saying rough cloth could be correlated to the finest silk. That sweet voice held power and danger. She gave herself an inward shake, gathering her will, refusing to give in to the other woman's overwhelming presence. To be complimented by someone like Giselle was a challenge, one she must answer. She took a deep breath, remembering Gavin and the beautiful, poetic things he sometimes said to her. "And yet, I should be angry with you."
It was a statement of fact, a judgement, an accusation, and a test all at once. The words hung like an executioner's axe over Sadira's head; to go against the will of a Chosen was madness. Sadira had risked everything by remaining in Scorpion's Oasis this long when Giselle had called for her. And yet a spark of defiance flared in her when she thought of Gavin and her promise to Sulius, and that gave her strength enough to stand up to the Chosen.
"Chosen, to be complimented by you is worth more than any victory I have ever won." She bowed, deeply and gracefully. "To be called exquisite by you is like the shining sun complimenting the shadowed moon on its brightness. Your offer of promotion is more than I deserve, and I thank you, but I cannot accept it, Chosen."
Even Giselle seemed surprised by this; the tension in the room was petrifying. The only movement was a slight widening of the Chosen's eyes, a sign as sure as flashing thunderheads. Sadira continued, brazenly now.
"It is true that I wanted to stay with my lover." said Sadira. "It is also true that I wanted to keep a promise to my fans and friends to bring them victory. I cannot deny these, Chosen."
"Not even to spare me from embarrassment?" said Giselle, one graceful hand clenching into a fist.
"I have always sought your company, Chosen." said Sadira. "And while it is true that life and love have gotten in the way, it is also true that I feel I have not yet earned your company. I have admired you since I was a little girl learning about her Gift; to gain your patronage so soon would be premature. Let me come to you bearing the laurels of victory so that all may see that I am worthy. Let me offer them as a gift from one bold woman to another. Let me paint this town Red in your name, Giselle. I want to come to you as a victor and a supplicant, a suitor and a servant, wearing the crown of victory which alone can make me worthy of your patronage. I want everyone to see how I win your respect. I want to earn my place with blood and victory, like you once did."
She knelt as she said the last bit, like a man proposing to his beloved.
"Mmmm," the Chosen’s demeanour softened, almost purring like a cat, her expression now one of pure contentment. Then she smiled, moving to address Sadira directly, her irresistible voice carrying to every corner in the otherwise silent room. "Very nice. While your skill has been proven on the fighting grounds, and your beauty is evident to me at the merest glance, I must confess that I did not expect such eloquence, Honoured Gladiatrix. You have salved my wounded pride dear Sadira, and thus I will allow you to remain here for the rest of the season before I claim you for my own. Consider this one of your many victories; I am rarely surprised and I did not come here expecting to accept a compromise."
There was a collective sigh as every woman in the room exhaled in relief. Even the Chosen seemed to relax. The cavernous room returned to normal as Sadira bowed to the Chosen again, deeply this time, and then to a beaming Amoura, who winked at her. Sadira left the room feeling triumphant, flush with victory, like after fighting Bella in Dreadwood Junction.
As soon as they were away from prying eyes, she turned to Minerva and put her hand on the other woman's shoulder. It took her a moment to gather herself before speaking. "Thank you, my friend," she said, looking deep into the other's eyes. "If it hadn't been for you I would not have been ready for that. I am indebted to you."
The Blue Gladiatrix smiled brilliantly. "Good. It pays to have the favour of a woman who will one day be a Chosen. Truthfully though, I can't believe you looked Giselle in the eye like that. For a moment I wasn't sure I wanted to be seen in your company."
Sadira laughed. "Very funny. I'll repay my debt regardless of my status in life. Enough politics though; we came here to relax."
"I know of a nice secluded spot here," said Vintia. "I wandered into it last time we were here. I am very curious to hear all about this offer you were given..."
And so they left, enjoying the soothing waters and deft-handed attendants who brought them true relaxation, at least until late in the afternoon when Amoura came to join them...
-----o
Gavin and Ravius spent the afternoon training with Master Sax. By the time they left to get ready it was late in the day, and both were rather bruised. Sax was powerful and precise, with a long reach and his every strike reminded them that however far they had may have come as Gladiators, they still had much to learn. Meanwhile the laconic Ogre weathered Ravius' taunts and Gavin's deadly spear with good humour.
"Why do you think we've never heard of Sax before meeting him here?" Gavin asked Ravius as they walked along the colourfully cobbled streets to the marble and gold buildings of the Shato diOre. "He seems like he could be of Champion quality."
"He has a good record for a Master," added Ravius, pondering. Gilded steam-wagons and ornate carriages drawn by augmented horses passed by them, a stately procession headed to the party. "But he's too understated, I guess. He doesn't seem interested in playing to the crowds. They say it requires a lot of showmanship to get noticed at that level. Sax isn't flashy. On the other hand, he might not even be after an invitation to the big show. Maybe you should ask him?"
One of their Grey-Robed escorts cleared his throat. After they turned their attention to him, he spoke. "Years ago, I was escorting a young Gladiator to visit the tribe he had been taken from in the Frostfoot Mountains. As we approached, the whole village sang their song of welcome. I will carry that beautiful sound in my heart until I am lost. When that Gladiator paid his dues to the arena, he returned there to add his voice to the song, even though he could have had a chance at much greater power. "
Their other Grey-Robe escort spoke up as her comrade finished. "There is a school of swordsmanship called the Faultless Blade. No doubt you have heard of it. The founder of that school has not lost a fight in living memory, and has even defeated two Chosen in duels and one in a Deathmatch; yet he does not seek to become a champion... nor do any but his best students, and some of our order even know his identity. Master Sax has studied under him."
They continued their walk, both Gladiators thoughtful now. The words etched themselves in Gavin's memory.
-----o
Sulius ul-Cyrus arrived at the grand event with a young scarlet-haired Vassal dressed in a magnificent gown sewn with clear blue gemstones that set off her eyes, and wearing a formal masque to conceal her identity. Perhaps the Red Faction had rewarded him for doing well this season? The young woman became the subject of more than a few whispers, not only because of her artfully mysterious identity but also because of the alacrity with which the striking young woman detached herself from the Chief Promoter, who, for his part, did not seem to miss her...It was one of the many delightful mysteries that the party-goers would write about and discuss for weeks afterwards.
-----o
"Oh, I like that," said Minerva, admiring Sadira, Karmal, and Vintia as they met again after dressing in their proper party attire. The three women had found a peerless tailor in nearby Brightsand Halls to create almost-formal dresses that could be worn comfortably with their arena armour. They would not be mistaken for regular debutantes in their armoured gow
ns.
"I was originally going to go with red, but it seemed too flamboyant." Sadira was wearing a simple sleeveless dress made of a rich black silk, edged in gold. The whole ensemble fit rather nicely underneath her regular armour. The dress cunningly blended with her armoured shoulders and arms with side slits through which her half-armoured legs could be seen. A red scorpion silhouette decorated the back of the fabric.
"I hope you don't mind if we steal the idea next event?" said Clarice, the youngest of the Blues. "Your war-dresses look so good. I'm totally envious..."
"We actually got the idea from Cleo," said Karmal, pointing to the bright Light-Elf in a gown cunningly made from various shades of grey lace. "That girl really knows how to work with wardrobe restrictions." The flame-haired Gladiatrix wore emerald green silk with her dark green and gold armour. The most eye catching part of her ensemble was a pair of emerald earrings, set in radiant gold teardrop, nestled in her lavishly curled hair.
"She has to wear grey and her symbol of office, but our Cleo can't resist the need to mingle," added Vintia. The small Gladiatrix wore a long dark blue skirt falling from her heavy silver-blue plated chain armour and a tight collar of exquisite blue lace rising from her metal gorget. "So we decided to do something similar."
"But, I have to admit, you ladies win in the hair and perfume department," said Sadira, who wore her hair in a plain formal style, albeit pinned in place with tiny jewelled scorpions instead of simple Glamour. "You'll have to tell us how you came up with those wonderful styles..."
And so they advanced into the lobby, a phalanx of silk and metal, ready for a battle of a different sort.
-----o
There was no single place or time appointed to eat, but there were many rooms that one could enter and sit down in if one wanted to eat a meal, or if one had the desire to mingle there were many gold-covered attendants with trays of food or even pages who could bring a quick snack or drink for those who just needed to revitalize themselves.
Bloodlust: A Gladiator's Tale (Domains of the Chosen Book One) Page 42
