Call to Arms (The Girl In The Arena Book 1) (9 page)

An older soldier said, “Turn your backs.”

They did and she dressed, her fingers fumbling and tears threatening to blind her. There was no time to lose; she had to get past River before they saw him. His mother’s garments fit her like a glove and when the door opened she leaned against the guards like she was sick and barely able to walk.

River was standing a few feet away, his head down. None of the guards paid him any attention, but she saw the small drip of blood on his rope sandals and her throat clenched tightly, making a harsh gasp break from her throat.

He slumped over and a hoarse rattle came from his chest. One of the guards stopped and looked over at him. “Who is that?”

“Just a servant. He looks like he has the bad cough.”

The soldier shoved River away; he fell against one wall and Reena stood there silent and pale as his face went still and waxy.

“He’s dead,” one of the soldiers observed. “I heard his mother had the sickness too. Better tell the housemistress so she can get his things burned.”

That was all. He mattered so little that they did not even try to figure out what had happened; they just assumed he had been sick. Maybe none of them knew anything about the poison in her food but she could not take that chance so she allowed her body to continue to tremble.

This day was much like the one before. She was herded into the arena when it was her turn and she stood there, waiting to see who would come out the door. Who was she supposed to save today? Who was it that she might fail, who was it who might watch her die and then be murdered themselves right there in front of the crowd?

It was her, Nemia. Unlike the man whose life he had fought for the day before Nemia walked in unaided, her head up and her shoulders square. She had pride, and it showed. When the guards told her to hold she took a slow deliberate step forward and looked at them with a smile on her face that dared them to say anything about what she had just done.

Who was that girl? How did she dare to do these things? She had to be an Outlaw, there was no way she wasn’t. She had far too much pride.. It made no sense at all.

The horns sounded, their brassy notes ringing out into the air. They were signaling the arrival of her opponent and Reena’s hands went still. The trembling that she felt in them earlier had not been faked. She really had been terrified, and she still was in some small corner of her being, but she was also aware that this was probably going to be a day that she used the god’s fire inside the amulet.

Her opponent today was young, and slammed. He looked nothing like the man that she had fought the day before and she knew just by looking at him that he was not a hardened or seasoned gladiator. What was going on? Why were they sending him in to fight her?

The young man stepped to one side and held out a hand toward the door that he had just walked through. The crowd went nuts, screaming and cheering so loudly that the stands almost shook with the thunder of their applause.

That’s when she saw him, he looked like Colossus! He could not be human! He was taller than any man she had ever seen, and his body was so heavy with muscle that his bare legs and upper arms looked like tree trunks had been transplanted onto a human’s body.

The slim young man gave her a saucy wink and turned around, skirting a cute little curtsy at her opponent.

The crowd went wild again and Reena stood there in the center of the ring, staring and totally bewildered. Her opponent began to strut around the perimeter of the ring, raising his arms above his head and shaking his fist in the air. The crowd began to throw things at him, small favors and even some fuels. She saw the wink of a ruby in the bright green gleam of an emerald.

The thin young man ran about the ring picking up the gifts from the audience  and depositing them within his kilt. Upon occasion he was pulled his kilt just  a little higher, not enough to show anything but just enough to make the crowd roar its approval.

“It’s a show.” Reena looked around herself to see who had spoken those words before she realized that she herself had. That’s just what it was, he was putting on a show! The crowd was eating it up, clapping and cheering and still throwing things on the ground.

During her training she had overheard a gladiator say that some gladiators became extremely wealthy and bought their way to freedom; she had been sure that was a lie but now that she saw all these things landing on the sand she could understand how that would be possible.

How did he do it? How did he get people to love him so much that they were willing to do this for him? The gems that were hitting the ground were expensive, as were the other favors. How did he make them love him so much?

When he was done working the crowd and his helper had gathered up everything that was worth his attention, lifting his skirt in the back for one last little cheeky flirt with the crowd his helper fled the arena, his long hair flapping out behind him and his thin legs speeding across the littered sand.

Reena was still bewildered and stunned, and she heard them announcing that the match was starting but she did know how to begin it. What should she do? She had no idea, really.

The giant she was fighting did though. He came at her, slapping his hands across his gigantic arms and flexing his muscles so that his nipples bounced up and down in an incredibly disturbing manner.

The crowd roared its approval all over again, but all she could do was wonder how on earth he had gotten to be so oversized, and why people seemed to find that attractive. She was paying attention to him and his antics and so she forgot all about the fact that he was there to kill her.

Too late she realized that was exactly what he had wanted from her. His heavy meaty hands swung out and hit her so hard upside the right side of her head that it knocked her to the dust, sprawled out and almost unconscious.

She could hear the crowd screaming at her, booing her and laughing at her too. They were cheering for the other guy, and she wasn’t sure that she didn’t blame them. If she had to make a bet, she’d probably bet on him and hope for the best.

Nothing was making much sense at that point and she doubted it ever would again. There was nothing to do but try to avoid him, but it was easier said than done. One of his gigantic  fists planted itself in her ribs, taking her breath away. She rolled to one side, using her elbows to try to pull herself along, having already learned that the sand was too slippery to get her fingers into.

He kicked her again, and ironically that would’ve made her laugh under any other circumstances. Maybe this is exactly what she got for having been such an unfair fighter the day before. She managed to get her foot up and into that soft spot that she was so sure would hurt him but he merely grabbed her by her ankle and flipped her neatly back over onto her back before twisting her ankle so sharply and painfully she was sure he was about to break it.

Her screams rang out, filling the arena with a shrill piercing sound. He reached down and grabbed her by her shirt lifting her high into the air and twirling her over his head. The ground spun crazily and all she could do was try her best to stay balanced, but she had a feeling that whatever he was about to do to her it was about to become extremely unpleasant.

She was right. He threw her across the arena and she landed hard in the sand. Her ribs met the earth along with her spine and a sharp pain shot through her entire body. That pain took her breath. She did not have time recover before he came lumbering up to her and landed yet another fierce kick into her belly.

She caught a glimpse of a few faces in the crowd. They looked bored: one man was chewing bread as if he had nothing better to do with his life than to watch her die while he ate. Maybe he didn’t.

He reached down to pick her up again and this time she let him. As soon as his arms grabbed her shirt her hands went to the amulet around her neck and her fingers opened the little clasp.

He lifted her above his head and she poured the god’s fire directly into his upturned face. At the same time she kicked as hard as she could, sending her foot into his chest with so much power that she felt the force of that kick ricocheting all the way up into her hip in the back part of her spine.

The gods fire was powerful and immediate. She could smell his eyes literally cooking within their sockets. He screamed and fell backwards, taking her down with him and she had to turn her head and roll as fast as possible in order to get away from him. At that moment she was more afraid of the god’s fire than him.

“You little bitch!”

Reena scrambled to her feet. Terror flooded through her, he was so huge… What if he got up again? She heard Nemia cheering wildly and she wanted to yell at the other girl to just shut up and quit distracting her but she couldn’t. She grabbed her blade and tried to strike it into his chest but his armor and the muscle over his rib cage was so thick that it had deflected the blade easily.

The audience was screaming and cheering; she could hear their cries and she knew that many of them were not cheering for her. They were in a state of shock, of disbelief. Their hero had fallen, and this frail looking young girl was the cause of it.

He did get up. His hands came out and he tried to find her. His hands pounded empty air and his fingers snapped closed inches from her face and body as she danced away from him. There was nowhere to go; she had to do something. The fire had damaged his eyes but had not damaged his body; he was still capable of killing her and now he was angry enough that he would do it slowly.

There was nothing around except for his weapons, which were still on his body. She would have to take them from him in order to use them against him. How could she do that, how could she kill this man? She had no choice and she knew it.

His hands swung out and she ducked below them and then she ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. The crowd went nuts again, screaming and yelling and calling her a coward. That was just what she wanted, she wanted her opponent to know that she was fleeing.

Just as the noise from the crowd reached its apex she spun around suddenly and ran back at the gigantic gladiator. His hands had stilled and he was listening intently, cocking his head from one side to the other like a bird trying to figure out which direction she had gone. She flew past him, one hand coming out and grabbing at the sword in the cities on his side.

It came out easily, with a long whicker of sound. Too late he realized what she had done, and he spun around trying to reach for her but she had moved away again in the opposite direction.

The crowd was chanting again, this time they were chanting kill and she knew that’s what she had to do, would do, but that did not mean that she did not wish she did not have to do it. “May the gods take you in and comfort you,” she said and then she swung the heavy sword as hard as she could in the direction of his neck.

**

It was over. The Governor had called for her to be removed from the arena and for Nemia to be released. He also made the announcement that there would be five days between this battle and her next, time for her to cleanse herself in the temples and she rested so that she could fight with odds as good as the other gladiators.

Following an announcement a voice in the crowd called out, “It does not seem as if she needs to have more odds in her favor.” That laughter that rang out after that cry made her afraid. These people expected more from her than she or anyone could give.

When she got back to her cell that night, Hector was waiting with a smile on his big, grizzled face and he said to her, “Give me the amulet.”

She took it off without question and handed it to him. She knew if he had something to say he would say it so she waited and eventually he did speak again. “Do you know what you did today?”

“Killed a gigantic man.”

“Always the smart-mouthed one, aren’t you?”

“If you say so.”

“Today, you won the crowd. They went there to watch you die and they were prepared to cheer for your death. When you left that arena they were cheering for your life. Not only that the girl whose life you saved today now owes you a favor, as does her entire Temple.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Her Temple.” Hector looked at her, his head tilted to one side. “You do not know who she is, do you?”

“Should I?”

“Yes, you should. She’s of the Temple of Isis. At one time they had more influence on the government than any other Temple but that was before the old Governor died. He was a follower of theirs.”

“I guess it’s too bad he died then, isn’t it?

“I would say so, and for more than just the Temple of Isis. Nonetheless, they owe you now. You do know that because you want to battles you now get a day out, and to rest and to worship. If I were you I believe I would go to Temple.”

He did not have to tell her which Temple he thought she should go to. “Hector, the boy that brought me food. River, that was his name, he died this morning.”

“I heard. He had the bad cough.”

“No, Hector that wasn’t it…”

Hector reached through the bars of her cell and grabbed her dragging her toward him. When her face rested against the cold steel and her belly did as well, he kissed an almost silent whisper, “He had the bad cough.”

He released her and she staggered backwards, dread boiling up in her stomach. Hector knew that was a lie! He had to of known. Did that mean he was in on it? Hector looked at her through the bars, his eyes impassive. “The bad cough is a terrible thing, don’t you agree?”