Tanys Gladiatrix (The Chronicles of Tanys Book 2) (11 page)

Two women stood in the doorway, as familiar as they were unwelcome. Varkaa's thugs gaped at Tanys. The one named Berra wore her nose at a slightly different angle than the last time they had met, but her eyes burned with the same rage. The other gladiatrix looked to her companion for guidance. Tanys readied herself. The two women blocked the only exit. She would have to fight her way out, with no real idea of where she would go afterward.

Berra's lips curled, twitching with barely controlled rage. Her fists balled at her sides so tightly that Tanys could hear the knuckles crack. Tanys glanced around, desperately searching for a weapon. She thought for a moment that she might plead Baran's protection, but her pride would not allow such cowardice. In any case, Berra did not appear to be in a reasoning mood. Tanys dropped into a defensive crouch and raised her fists.

Berra's fists unclenched, and she exhaled a long, slow breath. The anger faded from her eyes, and her gaze fell to the floor. Her companion looked confused, but followed Berra's lead as the tension bled from the room.

Berra's eyes lifted, and she stepped forward, open-handed. "Greetings sister," Berra said, "Welcome to Malchesse House."

Berra and her sister Tyll had been taken in their youth by Zhadeen slavers along the banks of the great river Neshat and raised as fighters from their adolescence. They fought as a pair and had been sold as a pair to the Malchesse nearly four years hence. Since then, they had become respected gladiatrices of the house and come to serve as Varkaa's personal bodyguards. They did not, however, share their mistress' vile cruelty.

All this Tanys learned from the women as they sat at their cots and spoke of their pasts. The women were anxious to learn of Tanys' tribe and its totem, the Raven. Their own people revered the great River Boa, a serpent that could crush the life from the mightiest of foes.

"You fought well at the bathhouse," Berra said, "and we thank you for what you did to Brecia."

"Thank me?" Tanys asked.

"Brecia was..." Berra searched for the right word.

"A monster," Tyll said.

"A little sick in the head," Tanys said, "but I've met worse."

"Maybe," Berra said, "but she brought shame to our house."

"I thought she was your best fighter?"

"She was a butcher... skilled with a knife, but she had no honor."

"What about Varkaa?" Tanys asked.

Berra looked at Tyll before she answered. "Varkaa is our trainer. She taught us much of what we know of fighting. We owe her our lives. You must understand, if Varkaa told us to kill you, we would, but, for our part, we have no quarrel with you."

"That's comforting," Tanys grinned.

"Don't worry about it. You are the property of the Malchesse now," Berra said, "and Varkaa will not destroy our master's belongings."

Tanys paused a moment, wondering if she could trust these two women. "How do you feel about being property?"

Berra shrugged her hulking shoulders. "We have a good life here," she said, "besides, where else would we go?"

"Home?"

Berra gave her a thin smile. "The serpent gives no suck to its young. From the moment they break free of the egg, they must fend for themselves and find their own path."

"Isn't there anywhere you would want to go?" Tanys asked.

Berra and Tyll looked at one another for a moment and answered, "Zhad."

Tanys had heard of the debauched land of the people who called themselves the Children of Heaven. En route to Cashuun, their boat had sailed past the delta city at the mouth of the River Neshat as dusk fell. The city's gilded towers had glittered with thousands of golden lights, and ships of every nation lay at anchor in its vast harbor. Haru had wanted to put in, but the captain had not the proper clearance to enter the port, and it would have been death to try it.

"I didn't take you two for the soft-living types," Tanys laughed.

"You misunderstand us," Berra said, "Our business in Zhad would be brief."

"No, it would not..." Tyll growled.

Berra placed a hand on her sister's shoulder, a troubled look on her face. "Given the chance, we would find the man who sold us to the satyrs. There were three of us when we were taken from our home."

"Another sister?"

Tyll nodded.

"And you want to find her?" Tanys asked.

The sisters’ eyes fell, and they said nothing.

"I'm sorry," Tanys said.

"She was the eldest, and very beautiful," Berra said, her voice thick with emotion, "She would not submit... he... she would not submit."

"If we returned to Zhad," Tyll said, "We would stay long enough to hear him beg for death... and then we would stay a little longer." She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes and cleared her throat.

Tanys nodded.

"Enough of this weeping!" Berra snarled, "We need to get you trained properly."

Tanys followed the two sisters into a large courtyard. Numerous fighting slaves, both male and female, sparred, using various wooden weapons. All eyes turned toward Tanys as she entered the yard. Many of the slaves began to whisper at the sight of her, but the challenging stares of Berra and Tyll soon silenced them. Indeed, most of the gladiators soon found somewhere else to be, leaving plenty of room in the yard.

The purple glow of dusk filled the sky above the open roof, but the high walls and balconies that surrounded the courtyard blocked any view of the surrounding city. Tanys was not even certain that she was still in the city at all. Berra collected three sets of wooden swords and shields, handing one pair to her sister and the other to Tanys.

"We'll start simple," Berra said, dragging a large crate to the center of the courtyard. She gestured for Tanys to climb atop the box.

The creaking wood of the crate swayed dangerously beneath her bare feet as Tanys mounted it. Getting her balance, she readied herself as Berra and Tyll took position on opposite sides of her. "What's this supposed to teach me?" Tanys asked.

"Nothing," Tyll laughed, "We just owe you a beating."

Berra frowned. "It teaches you to make the best of bad footing. You have to attack us, one after the other, and defend against our attacks. If you swing twice in a row at either one of us, or if you fall off the box..."

"You get that beating we owe you," Tyll finished.

Tanys scowled, not much caring for the rules of this game, but things could have gone worse with the two sisters, and she would do nothing to jeopardize their apparent respect for her. She tightened her grip on the buckler and cut the air with her sword, testing its weight. "Ready," she said.

Berra signified the start of the match by tapping the point of her sword on Tanys' shield.

Tanys raised her wooden blade above her head as though to bring it down on Berra's shield, then spun, lashing out behind herself, forcing Tyll to leap back quickly to avoid a strike to her chest. A blur in the corner of her eye warned Tanys in time to block Berra's attack with her shield, and she batted away Tyll's hasty counterattack with her sword.

They traded a flurry of blows as the crate swayed and creaked beneath Tanys' feet. Foremost in her father's training had been the concept of the Blade Dance, a graceful flow of the fighter's body, eluding the opponent's attacks by slipping in and out of range. Being locked in place with unstable footing forced Tanys to concentrate on a tight, efficient defense. She was learning quickly that wielding a shield effectively was very different from the off-hand blade work, which she had trained in since childhood. Berra shouted instructions as they fought, correcting the subtle mistakes, which could cost Tanys her life in a real match. Mistakes were punished with bruises and scrapes, success rewarded with the satisfying clack of wood on wood or the startled curse of a gladiatrix at the end of Tanys' blade.

Bright stars burned against an indigo sky when Tanys finally fell onto her back in the sand. Every muscle in her body burned and throbbed. Countless tiny cuts and welts marked her sweat-drenched skin. She lay there, gasping for breath, looking up at the dark haired sisters, their own bodies glistening from exertion as they leaned over her, hands braced against their knees. Tanys recalled their previous warning about losing her footing, but lacked even the strength to resist whatever punishment they chose to inflict upon her.

"We'll..." Tyll wheezed, "beat you... later." A broad grin split the woman's face, and her sister smiled as well, offering Tanys her hand. The three of them limped from the courtyard, leaning on each other for support.

"We'll start again tomorrow," Berra said.

"Late tomorrow," Tyll added.

Tanys was distantly aware when Naietta returned to the room late that night, but was too exhausted even to acknowledge the girl's arrival over the sisters' snores. By the time she woke again, Berra was shaking her awake, and Naietta was nowhere to be seen.

"We've got something special for you today," Berra said.

"You'll like this," Tyll grinned.

Tanys changed into a fresh breechcloth and followed the women down to a low-ceilinged hall, filled with long wooden tables, where the fighting slaves were taking their breakfast. Berra led Tanys to sit at one of the tables as Tyll fetched a trio of platters. Tyll set before Tanys a plate of boiled eggs and a strip of greasy, undercooked bacon.

Tanys lifted it from the plate, eyeing the curling scrap of fatty flesh uncertainly. Berra smiled, plucking the bacon from her grasp. She laid the meat on the table and pierced it near the end with a small knife. She then pushed a length of rough twine through the hole and fashioned a bizarre sort of necklace, which she then hung around Tanys' neck. Tanys looked down at the greasy hunk of pig flesh lying between her breasts and then up at Berra with her most baffled expression.

"Eat your eggs," Berra said, "The bacon is for the tiger."

A half-hour later in the stables below the villa, Tanys learned the truth behind the jest. Tyll had reached carefully into an iron-barred cage and fastened a length of chain to the collar of a monstrous mountain tiger. Its large eyes flared wide and golden against its brindle-striped gray fur.

Berra cleared the area in front of the tiger's cage while Tyll affixed the loose end of the chain to a bolt in the back wall. The various wild beasts penned in the other cages howled and hooted. Berra moved to a nearby rack and took down a stout leather whip. Tanys held out her hand expectantly. Berra smiled and shook her head. She tossed the whip onto the ground just in front of the tiger's cage.

Berra turned to Tanys and said, "Get the whip."

Tyll pulled the bolt from the latch of the cage door, and the gate swung open with a screech of iron hinges and the roar of an angry mountain tiger. The chain snapped taught, tossing flakes of rust into the air as the tiger's claws raked the empty air where Tanys had stood only a moment before.

Tanys stared, wide-eyed at the furious beast, her heart pounding. The tiger stalked back and forth, testing the length of its tether, never taking its yellow eyes off the raven-haired girl. It snorted, catching the scent of fresh meat on her. It growled, a low rumble that penetrated her body and soul, a primal warning that leeched away her courage. Torchlight glistened on the spittle that dripped from its hungry jaws to splash, amid the dust and straw, upon the wooden floor.

Tanys feinted to the left and then leapt to the right, probing the tiger's response. It moved quickly to cut her off, and she could in no way approach the leather whip that lay coiled between the tiger's feet.

"There's no trick to it," Berra said, "You just have to be quicker than the tiger."

Tanys shot the gladiatrix a foul look. The tiger lunged forward again, yanking the chain so hard that Tanys feared it might break. The cage jerked sidewise where the chain remained threaded through its bars. The tiger's claws scrambled in the straw, momentarily losing its footing, and Tanys leapt forward.

Her fingertips dragged over the bulbous leather pommel of the whip as she attempted to pluck it up. The tiger wheeled, and Tanys snatched her hand back. This time it was she who scrambled on the slippery mat of old straw and dried dung. Fiery pain raked across her shoulder as she threw herself headlong into the dust. She rolled to her feet, beyond the tiger's range, gritting her teeth at the four long parallel claw tracks that throbbed and pulsed dark blood from her arm.

"Berra's wrong," a voice called out from the stable door. Tanys looked to see Baran standing there. "There is a trick," he said, "but you can't do it with your body."

"You mind explaining that?" Tanys said.

"Remember that you are not entirely human," he said, "Your spirit exists in two worlds... the world of men and the world of beasts."

"So I can talk to the cat and ask it to just give me the whip?"

"The only way to know is to try."

"How?"

Baran smiled. "It's sort of like pushing your chest out, but you don't stop when your body does. You just keep pushing."

Tanys glared at him.

"Just try it," he said, "...or you can keep doing it your way."

Tanys took her hand from her wound and wiped a red smear across her bare thigh as she turned to face the tiger again. She closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on the center of her chest. She pushed aside the sensation of the warm bacon sticking to her skin, the throb of the wound in her arm, and the steady growl of the tiger that wanted to kill her. She began to feel the weight of the air around her. What surrounded her was not empty space anymore, but the fabric of creation. She breathed it in and exhaled sparkling currents of Self that drifted away to become the Other.

She pushed experimentally at the boundaries of Self, feeling the edges of her body holding her spirit inside like a warm membrane. She pushed harder, stretching it outward into the coolness of the Other. She pushed against it until she could feel her mind pressing against an unseen wall. Something fluttered behind it, living and powerful. A twinge of fear rippled through the membrane of self, and she knew that it had been strained to the breaking point. She pushed again.

Tanys gasped as the membrane tore, and her consciousness burst through, spilling into the mind of another like honey poured into milk. Strange thoughts and images filled her mind. She saw herself through golden eyes. She stood naked and motionless, the scent of blood was upon her flesh, and it smelled sweet. Her new body ached for the taste of flesh. It had been so long since she had eaten. Tanys looked through the tiger's eyes and saw herself as prey. She felt its jaws gnashing, the taste of her own body's scent on its tongue. She shivered at the image of her soft naked flesh torn apart by black claws.