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Stolen by the Alien Gladiator

Page 11

by Leslie Chase


  Tabarn stalked after me, content to keep me down and wait for me to make a mistake. The spear threatened me, little jabs that I had to parry but that didn’t expose Tabarn to a counter attack. I snarled at him.

  “Coward,” I hissed, trying to goad him. “Can’t you win a real fight? Come here and let’s give the audience a show.”

  He laughed grimly. “I’m no fool, and I’m not falling for your tricks. Want this over quick? Come to me.”

  Not as stupid as he looked or sounded. Just my luck.

  Behind him, I caught a glimpse of movement. Sun caught on steel as Emma edged closer, and I tried to will her to stay back. No champion of the arena would let someone sneak up on him like that, and if she got into spear-reach, he’d have no difficulty killing her. I had to settle this before she got too close, but how?

  No good plans came to mind. Not even any bad ones. The only idea I had was almost too awful to contemplate. But there was no time to find something else to do, not if I wanted to keep Emma safe. I had to risk it.

  “Emma, no!” I shouted, and Tabarn started to spin towards her. He was fast, and she was frozen in place by my shout. An easy target.

  But as soon as I shouted, I leaped up and at Tabarn. My injured left hand pushed off the sand, throwing me at him with an agonized cry of rage. The distraction wasn’t enough, of course. He knew that I was the greater threat, but his spear was already out of position when I moved. Spinning back, he thrust, and there was nowhere for me to dodge.

  I couldn’t avoid the attack, but I’d cost him enough time that his aim wasn’t perfect. Instead of stabbing me in the throat or through the heart, he took the easy and obvious target. The sharp, cold metal stabbed into my gut and slid through.

  Time slowed as the point entered me, pain rippling out from the wound. All my will focused on one thing, keeping my grip on the club and swinging it. The rough, lumpy metal swung through the air to smack into the cochodren’s arm.

  I’d aimed for his head, but I’d take it. The crack of breaking bone shot through the arena, and he screamed, a surprisingly high-pitched noise. The crowd went silent, and I could feel the thousands of pairs of eyes watching as I staggered back, still impaled on the spear. Tabarn couldn’t keep his grip and it slid through his fingers.

  “You threatened her,” I rasped, my vision swimming as I resisted the urge to lie down. I spun the club again, a brutal arc that snapped Tabarn’s head around with the impact. “No one threatens her. No one!”

  He tried to duck back, disoriented. My attack was weakening, and I couldn’t put my weight behind it, but it still drove him down to the sands. He looked up at me, small beady eyes filled with rage and hate as I lifted the club high.

  I brought it down with a final crunch, and around me the crowd went wild. I heard my name chanted in a thousand overlapping voices as I let myself sit, and my eyes drifted shut. I should have hated that sound, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  Emma was safe, and that was all that mattered.

  15

  Emma

  Shaking, I looked down at the bodies and for a moment I couldn’t move. The roar of the crowd was like a physical force, pummeling me and making it hard to breathe. I forced myself forward, the weird sword slipping from my fingers.

  Athazar had slumped down to his knees, head bowed, the spear through his torso propping him up. I dropped down next to him, holding him, wishing I knew what to do. Back on Earth I’d taken a first aid course, but it hadn’t told me much about what to do if my lover lost a spear fight.

  Or had he won? I looked at Tabarn and shuddered. The ugly club had reduced his head to a pulp, and while his body still twitched, I didn’t think that he was going to be getting up again. So the fight was a draw at worst, then.

  Armax lay on the sands, clutching at his broken knee and howling. Even I could have killed him in this condition, and the crowd called for me to finish the job. I ignored them, dropping my weapon and running to Athazar’s side.

  Don’t remove the object. I remembered the first aid trainer telling me about impalements. Stabilize it and wait for medical help. Apply pressure to control the bleeding.

  I did my best, holding Athazar steady. Drones hovered around us and the crowd chanted his name, drowning out my cries for a doctor.

  “Come on Athazar, you can’t die now,” I told him fiercely, hoping that he could hear me. He certainly couldn’t respond. “I need you, do you hear me? You can’t… you can’t save me and die.”

  Prodrirs was talking, his voice booming out over the crowd, but I didn’t hear a word of it. My arms around Athazar, I tried to keep him steady, waiting for someone to come and help. Surely someone would? He’d won the fight. Won it despite starting unarmed, despite being outnumbered, despite being saddled with me as a partner.

  Hey, don’t beat yourself up, I told myself. Athazar wouldn’t want that, and besides it’s not like I was completely useless.

  I remembered the satisfying thunk of my shield hitting Armax’s skull. At least I’d done something to help rather than cowering behind my man. But the victory had been all his.

  “Please stand away from the gladiator,” a voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see a hovering disk perhaps a foot across, white light shining from it. One of the arena’s drones, hopefully here to provide medical assistance not just take Athazar’s close-up. I backed off, letting it do its thing.

  The beam of light hit Athazar full-on and he floated into the air, following the drone as it floated back towards the Green barracks. I stood and followed, keeping a respectful distance. I’d never seen the medical drones in action, but according to Gennafera they weren’t shy about stunning anyone threatening their charges. I didn’t want to count on it recognizing me as Athazar’s friend.

  This is a good sign, right? They wouldn’t be carrying him so carefully if he was going to die. They certainly aren’t bothering with Tabarn.

  Another drone lifted Armax, his leg hanging at an odd angle. His glare at me was a strange mixture of anger and gratitude, and I wondered which one would win. If it hadn’t been for me, he might have won the fight — but I’d also spared his life when the crowd wanted him dead.

  Down the ramp and into the gladiator quarters we went, and the drones carried the injured through into the infirmary. I tried to follow, only to bounce off a forcefield across the doorway. Crap. I pressed my hand to it, watching Athazar float out of sight.

  “He’ll be fine.” I jerked round to see Gennafera leaning against the wall, a broad grin on her face. “Don’t worry, Prodrirs isn’t going to let anything happen to a fighter like that. Listen, they’re still chanting his name.”

  I shivered. “That’s the last thing he wanted.”

  “Yeah, well, tough.” She pushed off the wall, stepping closer and putting her arm around my shoulders. “It’s what he got, and since it means he’s going to be around to look after you, I’m glad. He’s a hell of a fighter, you know. Maybe the best I’ve seen.”

  I managed a sickly smile. “Not good enough to avoid getting stabbed.”

  Gennafera squeezed my shoulder. “No one’s that good, honey. Down here, the victory that counts is not dying. Your man’s got that bit right, and that’s all that matters. Now come on, standing here staring through that forcefield isn’t going to help Athazar recover. We need to look after you as well. Let’s get some food in you, and see what the old man has to say.”

  To my surprise, the food dispenser didn’t just give me the usual awful stew. Instead, there was a plate of what looked like genuine steak, and a bowl of mysterious alien fruit. It took me a moment to realize why — I’d been on the winning team, so I was reaping the rewards of victory. Gennafera laughed at my shock and stole some of my fruit as I ate, glaring around at any of the male gladiators who tried to come close.

  At least I was going to be a little more comfortable while I waited to hear what had happened to Athazar.

  It took two days before the medical droids allo
wed Athazar out of the infirmary. Two days of worry, despite Gennafera’s reassurances, and despite the fact that Prodrirs kept showing off new advertisements featuring him. But finally Athazar walked out through the forcefield, grinning and healthy.

  My hug nearly took him off his feet, and he managed to laugh. “Careful, I’m not quite there yet. And I think I’m still a bit woozy from the painkillers.”

  Immediately contrite, I guided him to a chair. “Should you be out here, then? Maybe we should get the drones to take you back?”

  “No.” He sighed, and his smile faded. “I can’t afford to spend more time in bed. Not while I need to be training.”

  I winced, realizing what he meant. Now that Prodrirs knew how he could control Athazar, my love’s determination not to fight made no difference. He’d fight, or I’d die — and we all knew what choice Athazar would make.

  “I’m sorry.” I felt the pain well up inside me as I said it. If it hadn’t been for me, he wouldn’t be in this position. He wouldn’t even be in the arena. He’d be free.

  He nodded, hugged me, and winced. “I don’t blame you, beloved. Not even a little bit. Now tell me, are you alright? Have you been safe, well looked after?”

  “Me?” I laughed. It wasn’t really funny, but the fact that he was worried about me was darkly humorous. “I’m fine, Athazar. Gennafera has taken good care of me, and Prodrirs gave orders that I wasn’t to be bothered. Without me, he loses his hold on you.”

  A crooked smile crossed Athazar’s face. “At least that much is going right.”

  “Yeah, you’re doing a great job of protecting me, even when you’re not here,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “It’s better when you’re by my side, though, so don’t go getting yourself nearly killed again.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said, holding me firmly and meeting my gaze. “If I’m going to be trapped here, then I’m going to do it right and keep you safe, my love.”

  He reached out and pulled me to him, onto his lap. Powerful arms folded around me and I realized how vulnerable I’d felt without him. Gennafera did her best, but she wasn’t him.

  Resting my head on his shoulder, I tried to relax a bit. It was surprisingly easy to just let go of my worries now that he was here to look after me.

  That was a seductive weakness, though. I couldn’t allow myself to get comfortable here, to think of this place as normal. Neither of us was going to stay here. I took a long moment to savor Athazar’s embrace, the warmth of his body, the sheer joy of holding him again.

  Then I spoiled it by talking business. “How are we going to get out of here?”

  I whispered the question in his ear, quiet as I could. Prodrirs was no fool, and I was sure that he had listening devices all over the slave barracks. Why wouldn’t he keep an eye on his investments? And there had to have been escape attempts before.

  But I also had to assume that he couldn’t monitor everything. If he could, then any attempt to organize an escape was doomed — and I wouldn’t let myself believe that.

  Athazar leaned in. Delicately bit my ear, and then answered so quietly I could barely make out the words. “We will need allies. Starting with Gennafera.”

  Was it his words or his touch that made me shiver? Both, perhaps. If this was going to be how we plotted our escape, I was all for it.

  16

  Athazar

  Not for the first time in my life, I cursed the efficiency of medical technology. If I’d been injured like this on Emma’s homeworld, I could have looked forward to months of recovery if I’d gotten better at all. Not that I’d have enjoyed being confined to a hospital bed, but at least no one would have expected me to fight.

  Here, in the Silent Empire, things were different. A rich man like Prodrirs could afford to have his slaves repaired quickly, and no injury that I survived would keep me from the arena for long. A day after I left the infirmary, I was up to practicing, and two days after that my next fight was scheduled.

  Our next fight, rather. It seemed that Emma and I had made an impact and the crowds expected to see us fight as a team. The very thought made my blood boil, but without any leverage, there was nothing I could do to stop Prodrirs putting us on the sands together. But I had to try to convince him.

  His office was filled with holograms of me and her, standing side-by-side and facing off against Tabarn and Armax. Lingering shots of Emma throwing her shield, making her look fiercer and more dangerous than I remembered. Prodrirs got up from behind his desk as I entered, looking me up and down as I approached. He could read my mood easily, and it was no secret what I’d come to discuss.

  “I don’t like it much more than you do,” the slaver said, voice full of false sympathy. “Let’s be honest with each other, I know full well that you won’t fight unless your human’s threatened. If she dies out there, it’s a disaster for me! But what can I do? The crowd has spoken.”

  “Keep her safe in here and I’ll show you the fight of your life,” I promised. “Sure, they’ll be disappointed the first time, but I’ll make it up to them.”

  He chuckled fondly, put an arm around my shoulder like a kindly uncle explaining the facts of life to a naive child. “I wish it were that simple, Athazar, truly. The crowd is a fickle beast, though, harder to tame than any slave. One disappointment can ruin the excitement for them, and right now your fame is spreading far and wide. Why, I’ve never seen so many VIP box bookings outside of a championship fight.”

  A cold dread washed through me at that, and I tried to keep it from my face. The last thing I wanted was for my face and name to come to the attention of someone who remembered my earlier time in the Empire. Looking at the hologram displays, I realized that was only a matter of time. Sooner or later someone would spot me and let Princess Tlaxanna know where her wayward slave had ended up.

  It might already be too late, and I needed to get Emma out of here before she found me again. The danger of the fights wasn’t the only time pressure we faced now.

  Prodrirs was still talking, something about the marketing potential and the rewards he’d offer us if we made him money. He squeezed my shoulder, and it was all I could do to resist the urge to tear off his arm and try to fight my way free. That wouldn’t work, and it would get Emma killed alongside me. If we were lucky, we’d die in the fighting — if we weren’t, we’d survive and face the slow, torturous death reserved for slaves who killed their owners.

  Trying to hide how close I was to snapping, I shrugged off his arm. “None of that matters to me. If you want my cooperation, you have to keep Emma alive. Make sure that she has every chance to survive the arena, and we’ll give you a hell of a show, but she’s got no combat skills.”

  “Don’t worry so much,” he assured me. “I don’t want to see my prize fighter sit down and die out there, so we’re on the same side.”

  We are not, I thought, but I kept my face guarded and nodded. At least that was something — and I desperately needed to keep her safe until we could arrange our escape.

  Prodrirs made some more reassuring noises about protecting his investment, and I paid no real attention. Eventually he wound up his speech, looking pleased with himself as he dismissed me.

  From the door of his office I looked down on the training area. Prodrirs had a good view of his property, and I could see the other Green fighters practicing. Which of the five could I enlist? Narrowing down the escape to those who would neither betray us nor ruin everything by going off half-cocked was difficult.

  There was Gennafera, of course. She and Emma were practicing together, Gennafera showing my mate how to use a shield properly. We could trust her, but who else?

  Armax was out, of course. Even if I’d trusted him before we met in the arena, now he glared at me every time our paths crossed. He didn’t like it here, but I couldn’t trust him.

  Tybin and Mixal? The two were inseparable, and trusting one meant trusting both. They enjoyed the perks of the arena, but they were clever too. No one clever wanted to stay
here long. Maybe they’d be good allies in an escape attempt.

  Corven was the last prospect. Quiet, focused, he was hard to read but at least I could be confident that he could keep a secret. That was an important quality in a conspirator. He was probably my best bet as a recruit.

  I made my way down into the training area, frowning to myself. There was little enough here to base an alliance on, and Prodrirs was no fool. He had to know that I’d be trying to escape.

  So be it, I told myself. I can’t hold off just because it’s difficult.

  17

  Emma

  The next few days were hell. We might be planning our escape, but neither Athazar nor Gennafera let that get in the way of my training. I couldn’t argue — if we couldn’t get out of here before our next bout, I preferred to be ready to fight.

  But god I wished I’d kept up my gym membership back on Earth! The exercise that the two of them thought was a suitable warmup nearly killed me.

  At night, the three of us huddled close and tried to discuss strategy, but mostly we ran into problems. All of the gladiators had their implants linked to the controls Prodrirs carried with him. If we left the arena and were more than a hundred paces from him, we’d be incapacitated with pain.

  “So we steal the controls,” I said, trying to stay positive. Athazar squeezed my hand and nodded.

  “That’s the first thing we have to do,” he whispered back. “Then we need a ship, and we need a distraction.”

  “And a way out of the arena,” Gennafera pointed out in a whisper. “The doors are locked tight, hard to open, and the guards are tough enough to be a problem.”

  She grinned, but there was a nervous touch to it. “This isn’t easy.”

  “If it was, everyone would do it,” Athazar said. “You’re right though. We’d have to do something big, get all the security systems focused elsewhere.”

 

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