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

"Let's end this!" she shouted, only half at Baran. Tanys crouched, naked and waiting.

"As you wish," the gladiator said.

When he came, she was ready for him, or so she thought. Once again he moved with unmatched speed and precision, and bent Tanys backwards, the rippling muscles of his arm locked around her throat from behind.

"Kneel and beg mercy," he whispered, "I will not hurt you."

"Never!" Her eyes blazed in defiance.

"Of course not!" Baran laughed. He sent Tanys sprawling in the sand with a rough shove. She gasped, clutching at her backside where the buckler spike had raked across the bare ass cheek. Her gold-painted hand came up, red with her blood, and the crowd roared with Baran's victory.

Tanys limped to the wall, watching Baran with open hate. He tossed aside the buckler, kneeling to retrieve Tanys loincloth from the sand. He held it up as though offering it back to her, his smile almost friendly. Tanys looked away, casting her fiery gaze upon some empty portion of the arena floor.

"Thank you for the trophy then," he said, stuffing the captured rag into his string belt, "it shall have a place of honor in my collection."

The barred gates of the arena swung open, and Tanys slunk like a whipped dog into the cool shadows of the underpits. Haru's first words when as he hurried down the steps were, "Does it hurt?"

Tanys punched him in the face.

Chapter 2

"Doesn't look like I'll need to sew," Danella sounded almost disappointed. She rubbed a gritty cream into Tanys' wound. Tanys clenched her teeth against the pain, unwilling to give the healer the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. Danella slapped Tanys' uninjured cheek. "All done!"

Tanys scooted sideways off the table and gathered her robe, ignoring Danella's lingering gaze. The dark-skinned healer flashed a pearly smile, her full lips pierced in three places with silver studs. Likewise pierced were her tongue, nose, brows, ears, both nipples, and navel. She had offered to show Tanys the rest of her piercings on numerous occasions as well, but for now at least, the girl's fur-trimmed shorts kept them well hidden.

Tanys shrugged on her robe and moved to the window of Haru'Luk's private box, overlooking the arena. The crowd below had already forgotten her personal shame, now enjoying the spectacle of Jorva's fight. The tattooed dwarf whom she had met in the slave pits of the northern trolls stood alone against a hulking Zhadeen warrior. The little man ran circles around the heavily muscled giant, darting in and out, teasing fresh blood each time his teeth found their mark in the big man's flesh. Jorva preferred to fight unarmed. His teeth, filed to daggerlike points proved a formidable and terrible weapon.

Tanys watched her friend work without really seeing it. In her mind, she relived her battle with Baran, if one could dignify that shame by calling it a battle. What had been so different about him that he could scatter her thoughts and overwhelm her defenses? The memory of him leaning over her, between her legs... Tanys shook the image from her head. Danella's warm hands moved over her shoulders, rubbing the tension from her muscles.

"Let it go," Danella said, "You had to lose eventually. Just be happy you didn't lose anything I couldn't put back on you."

Tanys grunted, watching as Jorva danced free of a spurting artery. The roaring zhadite would soon be dead.

Danella's hands slipped under Tanys' arms and came up under the raven girl's breasts, weighing them in her palms. "Would be a terrible shame if anything happened to these beauties."

Tanys shrugged free, giving Danella a rueful look. She crossed the room, putting a sturdy table between herself and the lascivious nurse. Danella leaned against the railing, licking her lips as her dark eyes followed Tanys.

Tanys opened a large wooden chest and retrieved her twin daggers. Formed of Ghast-wrought steel, they could shear through bone and armor with ease. The gifts of a sorcerer she once loved, and perhaps still did, they were never far from her. In her hands the icy chill of the northern wastes seemed to linger in the black steel. What was she doing here? Where else would she go?

The sound of Haru's hooves, stomping up the stairs, foretold the faun's return. At least he would have the money that Jorva's victory had earned as well as his profit from Tanys' humiliation. Yet his steps came too fast. Something was wrong.

"Quickly!" Haru said, tossing a bag of coin to Tanys, "Get everything put away. We're having a guest!"

Tanys stuffed the daggers and the coins into the chest, swinging the heavy lid shut. "Who is it?"

"The Malchesse!" Haru said, straightening his doublet and arranging the curly hair around his horns in a mirror. He spared another glance toward Tanys. "Get those silly clothes off! And try to look... humble."

Tanys glowered at him, but she knew he was right. She slipped free of her robe and tossed it out of sight, taking her place on her knees beside Danella on the floor. Once again, hooves sounded on the steps, more than one set this time. Presently two large, satyrs in red armor swept into the room their hands on sword hilts at their belts. Haru flinched back, giving way to them as they cleared the landing at the top of the stairs. Their master followed close behind.

Tanys knew that she should not look directly at a satyr, but she hazarded a glance up through her dark lashes, keeping her head down and hands clasped behind her back. The Malchesse slave master entered the room with deliberate slowness. The satyr's black fur gleamed darkly, well groomed and brushed with scented oils. His small curving horns crowned his shaggy head above cruel, golden eyes. His scarlet doublet, woven of fine silk, bore a crest of silver filigree, stylized thorn vines wrapped around a cringing female faun. He rolled the shaft of a short slaver's crop between his fingers as he surveyed the room.

"Vella no-durain, Haru'Luk," the Malchesse said, his voice a disaffected drone. The black satyr's head tilted back, even as Haru's dipped in the subtle establishment of dominance common to the satyr race.

"Vella no-durain, vera Tanaru!" Haru responded, "How my I serve you?"

"I have come to propose an arrangement," the Malchesse said. Tanys dropped her eyes as the black satyr's gaze fell on her.

"Anything, honored one," Haru said, "I await the word of your pleasure."

"The Malchesse are blessed with a royal audience at the new moon... a contest before the Prince."

Haru's breath rasped audibly. "A match at the palace?"

The Malchesse remained silent for a moment before speaking again, "I sense that you would desire some measure of glory in the royal court?"

Haru paused, weighing his words, "I would not presume..."

"It is good that you do not," the Malchesse droned on, "for it is not glory that I offer you, only payment for goods delivered."

"I do not understand, honored one. Forgive my ignorance."

"This one," the Malchesse said, "Have her stand."

"Tanys!" Haru hissed. Tanys rose quickly to her feet, her eyes still lowered obediently.

"You call your property by name?" the Malchesse asked.

"A bad habit," Haru chuckled, "I've been too long in the common circuits."

"Ah," the Malchesse said, "such are the debased mannerisms of the lower class."

Tanys stood in silence as the Malchesse approached. The black satyr walked a slow circle around the raven-haired girl. She did not move as he flicked a trace of gold paint from her shoulder with a long fingernail. She bit her lip as he pressed the butt of his crop hard into her buttock next to the wound Baran had given her.

"Will this heal soon?"

"Yes, my lord," Danella answered.

Tanys jumped as the Malchesse lashed his crop savagely across Danella's lips, sending the girl to the floor. Only Haru's pleading eyes stayed Tanys' wrath. Her fists balled at her side, but she made no move.

"I asked if the wound would heal soon!"

"Yes... yes!" Haru said, "There won't even be a scar in her flesh."

Tanys watched Danella from the corner of her eye. The dark-skinned girl rose again to her knees with her hands behind her back, her eyes downcast, lip swollen and bleeding. She said nothing, but her shoulders were trembling. She did not speak again, and the Malchesse paid her no further heed.

The black satyr stepped in front of Tanys, lifting her chin with the crop to take the measure of her beauty. "Adequate," he said, "for the purpose."

The black leather crop trailed down the hollow of Tanys' throat then curved up, lifting the tip of her left nipple on the rough edge of the leather strap. "Where is its ring?"

"I've been meaning to have her linked," Haru apologized, "you just never know how the new ones will work out."

"See it done," the Malchesse said, "it must be presentable before the Prince."

"You wish her to fight in the palace?" Haru asked.

"No," the Malchesse said, "I expect this slave to die beautifully."

****

"Tanys, think about this..." Haru said. The satyr clomped back and forth across the wooden floorboards, his hooves kicking up flour dust. The small room they rented above the grain mill was large enough to hold the four of them, plenty cheap, but far from clean.

Tanys continued shoving her things into a canvas bag. Jorva had already packed, though his belongings consisted only of a wine skin, a sack of desiccated lizards, and a glass ball, filled with tiny frozen bubbles, of which he had grown quite fond. Danella, the only true slave among them, watched from where she sat at the table. If the two gladiators left town, no legal bonds would keep her from following.

"Jorva," Haru said, turning to the tattooed dwarf for support, "you've never run from a fight in your life."

"Hah!" the dwarf snorted, "Jorva run from plenty of fights! One time Jorva fight with bees… Jorva no fight bees now."

"Tanys," Haru said, "it's your chance at redemption..."

"Don't!" Tanys leveled the tip of her dagger at the satyr's face, fixing him with an evil glare.

"Please," he whined, "think of the money."

"You seem to forget, Haru, I’m supposed to die beautifully. What good is money to me then?"

Haru sunk into a twine-bound chair beside Danella. His long ears drooped. "Think of what they'll do to me if you don't go."

"Not my fault." Tanys clicked her dagger back into its scabbard. "Anyway, nothing's keeping you here either."

"It's my home. I like it here. I'm in charge here. People aren't trying to drain all my blood for dark magic rituals here."

"You're not in charge of shit here!" Tanys said. "Was it all right with you what they did to Danella?"

Haru's eyes went to Danella's broken lip, and then fell in shame. "I'm sorry about that. I really am. It's just... you don't challenge the Prime Houses."

"You lick their boots and eat their scraps!"

"Silly Tanys," Jorva said, "Goat people not wear boots."

Tanys groaned, hefting the bag to her shoulder. "We're getting out of here tonight, and we're taking Danella with us. You'll come too Haru, if you have any goddamned sense."

"But you can win!" Haru said, "The Malchesse don't know that you can fight. You can fight! And you can beat whomever that accursed devil throws into the pit with you!"

"That wasn't what you said about Baran," Tanys said, turning her back on the desperate faun.

"It won't be Baran this time!"

Tanys paused. "What do you mean?"

"The Prince only watches women fight... He has very specific tastes." Haru smiled.

Tanys sighed, "So who would I be fighting?"

"I don't know, some unlucky bitch from the Malchesse kennels. It doesn't matter whom. You'll kill her!"

Tanys ran her hand over her face, wincing. Jorva let his pack drop to the floor and crawled into his bunk.

Haru'Luk grinned in triumph.

****

"No!" Tanys stared at the golden ring in disbelief. The thing was huge.

Tanys, Haru, and Danella faced each other in the sunlit courtyard behind the mill that the group had procured for a sparring ground as well as a makeshift hospital when necessary.

"All slaves in the Holy City wear rings," Haru said.

"Baran wasn't wearing one!" Tanys countered.

"Yes he was," Haru said.

"I didn't see one on him."

"The boys don't wear 'em up here," Danella said, squeezing her own breasts for emphasis.

Tanys started to ask what she meant, then thought better of it.

"Look," Haru said, "it really doesn't hurt... much. Don't tell me you're afraid of a little pin prick."

"You first!" Tanys turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Danella called out, "What if I can do it so it doesn't hurt at all? At least so you don't mind it."

"How?" Tanys asked.

"I have my own way of doin' it," Danella's dusky face shone with the brightness of her broad smile, "I swear you won't complain a bit."

Tanys' eyes narrowed. "What do I have to do?"

"Just trust me."

A few minutes later, Tanys lay back on Danella's work table, anxiously watching the healer as she prepared her tools, foremost what appeared to be a pair of tongs whose steel jaws met in two tiny needle points. Danella caught the look of trepidation in Tanys' eyes. "Don't worry," she said, "You're not gonna notice when I do it."

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