The Gladiator's Downfall

by Kristen Banet

  “Damn the Skies,” he growled as they moved away from the chow hall, the fighting beginning to bleed into the halls.

  “Just keep walking. We’re not a part of this. This isn’t our problem. If we get back to my room, then we’re in the clear. We shouldn’t get grabbed for the communal punishment.”

  They did make it, just fine. The fighting didn’t bleed over to the prized gladiators’ hall. The other prized fighters were all at their doors, listening to the fighting. One even nodded to her. His own friends were with him.

  “Glad to see we all stayed out of trouble,” another said, eyeing her. “You didn’t help start it right?”

  “No,” she answered cautiously. Why were they talking to her? “Seventy-Two threw a punch at an outsider.”

  “That fucking old idiot,” the youngest one scoffed. “He’s so fucking high on himself, yet he’s never earned one of these places and his fucking shit has never earned our respect.”

  “Well…” She looked at them in confusion then entered her room. Matesh raised his eyebrows as he entered. Rain pointed back at the other gladiators, seeming to ask what that had been about. She shrugged, shaking her head. She had no idea. They had never spoken to her before, and what they had said…it was like they thought she was one of them.

  Confusion pulsed through her.

  This week of games was turning out to be much different than the last time, five hundred years before.

  14

  Matesh

  The first day of the games was upon them, and Matesh was distracted. The fights and brawls from the day before had been so bad that Mave told them it was best to skip dinner and just stay in the room until breakfast, where everyone should be more focused on the day ahead.

  She’d been right. Of course. Aggravatingly right.

  That was his distraction. He’d spent all day and night locked up with her, without even the meals to get him a change of scenery. He knew she was so off-limits, but he was still a hot-blooded male and there she was. Strong, attractive, taking good care of herself, even in the hell everyone called the pits.

  She just has to be right there and I can’t have her. I can’t even think about having her, really, but I can’t stop myself either. She’s just so damn…her. I didn’t even like her when I got here and now…

  “Good luck, big brother,” Rain whispered.

  “Thanks, nephew. Where is she?” He was about to fight, but she had been called out of breakfast and they hadn’t seen her since. He was scared for her. He could only imagine what could be happening to her.

  “Another gladiator was saying he saw her in the Royal Box, standing beside the Empress. Apparently, this is just how it’s done. She’s required to watch the games with the Empress then do her fight last, the grand finale.” Rain sighed. “I’m hoping it won’t be like this every day. I wish she’d warned us she’d get called.”

  “Stay right here until I’m done,” Mat ordered, pointing to the floor. “I’ll wait for you as well.”

  “I know. No one is going to start a fight here at the gate to the sands.”

  Matesh hoped he was right. He looked around at the other gladiators arming up, getting ready. They were only outnumbered by the guards. There were a lot of guards. Rain was probably right. This was probably the safest place for any of them to be.

  “Twenty-Three. Get ready!” a guard yelled out.

  Matesh turned to him, his tail swishing around with irritation. The guard looked at his ear tag then his longsword. “Good. Get to the gate. When it opens, you walk out on the sands. You’ll meet your opponent in the middle, bow to the Empress, then the fight will be called. This isn’t to the death, but if you feel the need to kill him, you can. Also, the Empress may decide his fate. You know the thing. Thumbs down for death, no matter how you feel about it. No thumb, or a thumb up, and he should live.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good.” The guard stepped back. The crowd had already seen two fights, and now it was his turn. There would be several every day. Blood and body parts to appease the people. All in honor for a thousand years of his people being enslaved to the Empire. Only a few long weeks for him, sure, but for Andinna like Mave? She had been living through every second of it. That was what the crowds were celebrating while watching them die.

  The gate opened and the muted thunderous cheering became deafening. He stepped out onto the sands. Immediately, he noticed he sank slightly. Mave was right. Movement would be hard.

  Why did she always have to be right?

  His eyes went to the Royal Box, where the Empress and her son sat. He saw her there, standing to the Empress’ left. Her face was a blank mask, pointing straight ahead, but her eyes were on him.

  For a moment, he only saw her. In a different world, she could be standing next to an Andinna Queen, a proud warrior, maybe a general. It was her birthright, anyway. To stand as a great warrior and lead their people, like her father had. She even reminded him of the Andinna Goddess of War, Death, and Darkness, Kristanya. A woman of power, a darkness that could only be directed by the center of their pantheon, her twin sister Lariana, the Goddess of Family, Life, and Light.

  Maevana would have been important and powerful. She would have led them, the right hand of the Royal Family.

  But this was the world she grew up in. She wasn’t Kristanya, standing at her sister’s right, but a slave beside a cruel mistress, one who had no hope of truly controlling her. Not one where she grew up an experienced and free warrior, but a slave to the Empress who used her as a status symbol, as a sign. That’s where the world had put Mave instead.

  Look at this slave. This is the reason you are on the sands. And she is the Champion.

  He looked across the sands, snapping out of his thoughts. He needed to be focused on his opponent. The other male seemed well-matched to him. Also using a longsword, the Andinna male’s tail and wings were scarred. His right horn was broken in half and his left had no sharp tip. He had a vicious scar that ran down his face, but his longer black and tangled hair seemed to hide the worst of it. They were both bare-chested, only wearing the smallest of loincloths to cover them. They were a show, not properly armored, so the world could see them and their honed bodies.

  They said nothing, just turned to the Empress and bowed. Crowds cheered and jeered. The Colosseum seemed to rumble underneath them. It was a marvel that it didn’t collapse down onto the pits below.

  When they straightened, they looked back to each other.

  “Did you fight in the Hundred Year War, boy?” the old male asked, knowing that no one could hear him.

  “I did. With my fathers, my brothers, my uncles, and my cousins. My mother took up her blade and fought. So did my aunts.” Matesh’s entire family had been soldiers, warriors. Only he and his uncle remained. Three brothers, their wives, and their other husbands. All their sons, Matesh’s brothers and cousins. Even one daughter, his big sister. They had all died in the fighting, the long war that refused to end until that fateful day.

  Only he and his uncle remained.

  “Good. I would hate to cut down a babe.”

  “I’m sorry, but I won’t be cut down any time soon.”

  “We’ll see,” the old male growled, smiling. It was lopsided and dangerous. There was a terrible glint in his eyes.

  “BEGIN!”

  Matesh pulled his sword only a fraction of a second faster than the older male. He went for an attack. Steel clashing rang out and he jumped away when the attack proved useless.

  With their wings bound, they were stuck on the ground, circling each other. How he wished he could fight this old male in the sky. There, they would be truly tested. This…any race could fight on the earth, but Andinna were meant for the sky.

  He buried that thought. It helped him none, as Mave would tell him.

  The old male jumped forward, slashing. Matesh parried and kicked, hitting the old male in the gut, sending him back, but not to the ground. He was good on his feet and maintained his bala
nce.

  Matesh pressed his advantage, pressing the older male back, making him falter and stumble. He didn’t want to kill his opponent, though. It meant that he needed to fight carefully, make sure nothing was fatal.

  He was able to slice the other male’s arm and then backed away. The male looked at the injury and grinned.

  “Now my turn, boy.”

  Mat was astounded by the speed the old male showed after that. He pressed, spun, dove in and fought hard. Mat got a single cut across his bare chest. It wasn’t deep. He’d been just fast enough for it not to kill him.

  “This isn’t to the death,” Matesh said as they began to circle again. “We don’t have to die on the sands today.”

  “I get a bonus for every pit gladiator I kill because my ludas hates all of you,” the old male replied, chuckling. “I’m going to kill all of you I get the chance to kill. This is my last week in the Colosseum, and then I’m being allowed to retire.”

  “You would cause needless death for your own enjoyment.”

  “I would make my enslavement, as well as my daughter’s, a little easier,” he corrected.

  Matesh’s heart thumped in his chest at that. A daughter. He would not kill this male, but he couldn’t die to him either.

  He had to end this or one of them would be too injured to walk away.

  They clashed again, steel clashing in the sunlight, causing the sun to reflect in different angles. Matesh kicked out to his knee and watched the old male fall but he rolled before Matesh could deliver a hit to end the fight.

  He continued to press the advantage. He might have been younger and less experienced, but he had energy, and that was something the older male was already failing on. His breathing grew heavier as sweat poured down his brow. He was limping from the kick to the knee. Matesh wasn’t foolish enough to believe it was all real. There was a possibility this was partially an act, the older male trying to lull him into overconfidence.

  As the duel continued, the crowd screamed violently at every draw of blood, every slice on their skin, on their tails, and on their wings. The older male tried once to cut Matesh’s tail off, but he was able to pull it out of the way just in time. He shoved his longsword into the older male’s leg, making him scream, making blood spray. He hoped he didn’t just fatally wound the old male.

  The old male dropped, his leg pouring blood. His longsword was dropped. He looked up to Matesh. They both knew the fight was over. Mat looked to the Empress and didn’t like the look on her face. She was smiling.

  She stood up slowly and her smile turned sinister. Her fist went out.

  And a thumb down knocked the wind out of him.

  No.

  Matesh tightened his grip on his longsword, staring at that thumb. The crowd chanted. His eyes drifted to Mave for a second.

  “Do it, boy,” the old male growled. “There’s no reason for us both to die.”

  “It’s a needless waste of life,” Mat whispered.

  “It’s the life of a gladiator. We’re needless to them, wastes on their resources as we get older. My daughter…she is strong. She’s no Champion, but I trust her to do well for herself. She has two husbands as well in her mayara.” The male fell back and stopped holding pressure to the leg wound. “Do it, boy.”

  Matesh stepped over the old male and closed his eyes; the crowd’s thunderous excitement became distant. He took his sword in both hands, pointing it downward. He shoved downward, his aim true. When his eyes opened, the crowd came back. His longsword was buried straight through the old male’s chest and into the sands. Straight through his heart.

  Matesh looked to the skies as he pulled the blade from the other male.

  And he cursed them.

  He walked off the sands without reveling in the death and crowd. He didn’t look at the Empress, his owner. That’s why she had sentenced that male to death, so it would be Matesh to kill him. To wear him down, break him on the sands.

  She’s not going to break me. If Mave can survive her for so long, so can I. As long as I have Rain and Mave, nothing is going to break me.

  He went into the tunnels, out of the overbearing heat. Rain reached out and touched his shoulder.

  “I’m next,” his nephew whispered.

  “I know. I’ll stay right here.”

  “There’s a guard towards the end of the hall. He’s with slaves who are handing out water. Clean your wounds and have a drink. I’ll win this.”

  “Good luck,” Matesh said, nodding. His eyes fell on the guard Rain mentioned and the human slaves he was with. Matesh walked to them slowly, other gladiators looking at him. Some of the pit gladiators even dared to say it was a good fight and good death. He did the pits proud.

  Matesh hated all of them.

  There had been nothing good about that fight. Nothing good about that death. It brought a bad taste to his mouth. His people were broken in the Colosseum. He had no idea just how bad it was, being free for the last thousand years. Those further from the capital weren’t like this. They weren’t so different from the way the Andinna were supposed to be.

  The slave handed him a jug of water without a word. Matesh took a drink first then poured some over each of his cuts. Just enough to clean them a tiny bit, remove the sand. He would tend them further after Rainev’s fight. The guards protecting the rooms of the prized gladiators, Mave’s room, knew to just let them in now. They had given them that privilege during the week of games.

  He knew Mave was going to fight last, towards the evening. It was maybe mid-morning. He and Rain would have time to clean up and hide, then get to see Mave battle.

  He moved back to the gate as it opened for Rainev. Rain looked back to him for one moment then moved out into the sands.

  Mat, who had just cursed the Skies, asked that if anyone of them would die this week, it would be him. He couldn’t tolerate losing Rainev, not after everything the younger male had gone through. He was so young, and he had worked so hard to be the warrior he was, overcoming an overprotective father in the process. Actually, the overprotective father was still a work in progress. Matesh had yet to convince his best friend to relax on his son.

  Not like it matters anymore. We’re stuck here. Skies, why did this happen to us?

  Mat saw Rainev’s opponent. A trident and net user. Matesh smiled to himself. Rainev could handle that.

  It was nearly too fast, the crowd stunned by it. Rainev wasn’t playing games, not letting the net user get a second toss after his first one failed. He broke into the other male’s guard, knocking the spear from his hand. Rainev’s fight was to the death, and death was exactly how it ended. Rainev got a swing across the other male’s throat, blood pouring everywhere, onto him and the sands.

  Matesh crossed his arms. He didn’t need to worry about Rainev as much as he thought. He should have figured.

  “Good job,” Mat told him as he walked out. “Now, let’s get clean and relax until Mave should be fighting.”

  “Good idea,” Rainev whispered, looking somewhat ill. Mat reached out and touched his shoulder, knowing the feeling.

  “We need to survive.”

  “He was another fighter from the pits. Said he wished he’d taken a chance at getting me alone earlier.” Rain’s eyes were haunted for a moment then cleared. “He’s dead now, but it was a stark reminder of the very thing I need to fear here: being smaller than everyone else. I think I’m the only mutt in the pits.”

  “You are,” Mat confirmed. He’d been looking out for others and had yet to see any or even hear about any. He reminded himself of the silent promise he’d made when they arrived. I won’t let them touch you, Rain. I’ll kill them all if they touch you.

  They moved quickly back to Mave’s room, and luckily made it without incident. Rainev waved for Matesh to bathe first, so he did.

  When he was done, his cuts were clean and the bleeding had stopped. That was a plus. They would close up and be fine by the next day, but Matesh had to be careful. Fighting every day was goi
ng to wear them down. Every little injury was going to stack on top of the previous, make them sore and weary. It would make the next fight more dangerous.

  Rainev got through with his bath quickly and they sat down, just waiting for time to pass. Eventually, someone knocked on the door. Matesh rose up and answered, frowning at the young fighter he knew lived in the hall. “Yes?” he asked softly.

  “I just wanted to see how you both were. I heard you took some hits on the sands.” His eyes fell to the cut over Mat’s chest.

  “We’re fine,” Mat growled, feeling defensive. “Why?”

  The other male raised his hands, backing away a step. “Like I said, just checking in. You know, she might have told you, but we don’t mess with her here. We don’t get involved with other crowds. Now that she has some friends, we’ve been hoping she’d open up to us. We’re not where we are because we want to hurt her, ya know?”

  “What does that mean?” Matesh glared at the younger male.

  “Exactly what I said. You’re part of this area now, that much is certain. You’ve both earned her trust, showed her not all of us males are out to have her or hurt her. The rest of us here have been hoping she would see it in us too.” He shrugged. “So I came to check on you guys. In an effort for us all to be more of a community. Bring you three in.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll need to talk to her about it.”

  “Please. We’re all born post-War, but I was free until a couple hundred years ago. I was raised by a free mother and free fathers. So were a few of the guys living in this hall. Just thought you should know.” He grinned then, looking from Matesh to Rainev. “I grew up listening to stories about you guys too. I know you aren’t heroes or anything, but it was also fun to see the new wanted posters going out, the bounties for any member of the Ivory Shadow Mercenary Company going up. We knew you were giving the Empire hell in your own ways.”