Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator (55 page)

Read Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator Online

Authors: Claudia Christian and Morgan Grant Buchanan

“Accala, Crassus, take the bull,” Licinus ordered. I was wired, trembling with fear. I was going to kill this nightmare monster. Down here, aside from my Viridian teammates, the bull chief was the biggest obstacle between me and my brother.

We rushed into the fray. The Hyperborean towered over me. The strike came at me like lightning and I warded the blow, but the counterforce as the weapons clashed forced me back onto one knee. He was strong. Keep moving. I rolled to the side and cut into his leg. A chunk of crystal flew off, but if he felt pain he didn't show it. As I came back up to my feet, my cousin Darius was there, aiming a throwing knife at me with his one remaining hand. Here I was coming to his rescue and he thought this was the time to finish me off? I swung Orbis in a protective arc before me and heard the sound of his arrow splintering as my discus hit it out of the air. Spinning about, I cut with my discus. I wasn't holding back, I was angry. He thought I was an easy target? I'd show him. Orbis took the top off his bow and sliced his throat open in a single move. Darius just stood there, shock registering on his face. I hadn't expected to take him so easily, but then I saw the crystal spines in his chest. The bull chief had shot him with sharp spines. I turned back just as the crystal monster's spiny arm hit me in the torso, forcing me backward toward the wall. Gods, the alien chief wasn't trying to kill me. He was going to stick me in deep freeze beside Labeo and collect my ambrosia. As the chief reached out to grab me, I pushed forward again with Orbis, driving his arm down with the flat of the blade and then cutting up with the discus edge hard and fast into the spot between his eyes.

The impact jarred my arm but delivered enough of a shock to cause the bull chief to reel backward. He'd lost some motor control and was struggling to stay on his feet. I moved to press the advantage. Another blow in the same spot might finish him, but he suddenly regained his balance and attacked, and now I was the one caught off guard. He knocked Orbis from my grasp and grabbed me by the throat, slamming me against the icy wall.

The buzzing noise in my head was so powerful now that I couldn't even think; it was overwhelming, filling up my senses. My body wouldn't work; I felt limp in his grasp. But no blow came. Then an image—the mountain, Nova Olympus—the same vision I'd received from the Hyperborean aboard
Incitatus
. There was more but the song was like the strands of a rug, woven together with such complexity that you had to get some distance from it for a clear image to be seen.

The bull chief let me go and I slid down the wall. The glow from the cavern walls faded as the last of the Hyperboreans withdrew, moving back into the shadow-covered walls, then vanishing. I turned around and looked into the ice, but Labeo Tullius had vanished as well. They'd taken him. The bull chief had me dead to rights. I had been certain that my nightmare was a premonition. It was the ambrosia—it tipped the whole game upside down and inside out. Killer aliens didn't want to kill. Licinus wanted to save Viridians.

In the silence left by the departing Hyperboreans, Carbo and Licinus eyed each other, wondering if either would make the first move, but then Licinus ordered a retreat again and the Viridians made no move to press the attack. We kept on our guard as we withdrew and assessed each other's wounds. Pavo had a gash across his face. Marcus was unscathed, thanks to his immunity amulet, but mercifully he seemed not to be in a hurry to take advantage of my weakened state.

“Let the Wolves go and lick their wounds,” Licinus growled quietly.

As the hours passed, my insides twisted and screamed as we descended into the depths below the mountains, Barbata and I out front, the Dioscurii analyzing our course against the data they possessed of the tunnel system. Their map was so well detailed it had to be based on existing surveys.

I was given another minuscule portion of ambrosia as reward for attacking the Hyperborean chief. Then Licinus ordered the Talonites to split up. The Tullians would come with us, and the remaining Talonites would head back up toward the surface to continue fighting the tournament. We concealed ourselves while the Ovidians and Arrians waited until they were spotted by the Caninine Alliance and then fled, ensuring hot pursuit by the Calpurnians and Flavians. The wandering spherae attached to us picked up the action of the chase and headed off, leaving us free from observation. I wondered if anyone else noticed that the departing Calpurnians were short one man—Marcus. He had the immunity amulet, and the Viridians were keeping him down here, an ace up the sleeve in case the Sertorians pulled something.

The tournament would continue above, as the Arrians and Ovidians raced to exit the hives ahead of the Flavians and Calpurnians, killing barbarians for points as the opportunity arose. The Blood Hawks and Blue Bulls would play things out down here with the Golden Wolves of House Viridian.

We would fight the secret war far below the surface of Olympus Decimus, shrouded in a cloak of darkness. Whatever we did from now on would be hidden from the eyes of the empire.

XXIX

D
OWN INTO THE DARKNESS
, ever deeper, until after many hours we reached a spectacular cavern. As many as a hundred tunnels peppered it, like a wasps' nest, and its ceiling was so high it was lost in shadows. Only the milky points of dripping stalactites emerged from the darkness into the pools of light cast by our chariots. The stalagmites rising up from the floor were thick and had more milky liquid secreting from them than those in any other cavern we'd transected, and I wondered if that fluid was related to the ichor. Licinus led us right into the center of the cavern's bowl-shaped crystalline depression and then up the bank to the high ground on the opposite side so that we had a good view of the whole cavern basin below and a wide array of mouths to unexplored tunnels above us. Licinus declared that this was where we would set up camp. This came as a surprise, as it was our second day underground and still early.

“Set up a shelter and rest, but don't unpack any supplies. I want to be ready to move at a moment's notice. The rest of you, take up positions behind the chariots.” He pointed to a tunnel on high ground fifteen yards behind us. “Crassus, Barbata, make sure the pathway to that tunnel stays clear at all times.”

He ordered the Blue Bulls to hold the front line on the lip of the basin with their chariot. They didn't seem too pleased about that, but they, like the other Sertorian allies, were in no position to argue if they wanted a share of the drug.

“This is an exposed position,” I said to Licinus. “We'll be vulnerable to attack from any direction.”

“Our line of retreat is secured,” he said dismissively.

He was expecting the Caninines. So unless he'd been helping them follow us, he must have known someone else had been leaving a trail for them to follow. Julia's cover might have been blown, her life in jeopardy.

“I don't understand,” I said. “Aren't we better off moving up toward the surface?”

“We're waiting for our wolf friends,” Licinus said.

“Why would they follow us down here?” I asked. “There are no bestiarii kills. This place is quiet as the grave.”

“They will come,” Licinus said confidently.

Gods, I wished I knew what game he was playing. What was he up to?

“You're going to trap them?” I asked.

“So many questions, Mock Hawk. You look like you're about to piss your pants. Worried we're going to cut up your friends?”

“I'm worried I won't be able to support the team unless I get some ambrosia.”

“Ah, that's what I like to hear. The spirit of self-interest lets us all know where we stand. And no, you can't have any more.” He spoke to me as if I was a spoiled child. “You won't need it for the fight, trust me.”

From out of the chariot locker, Mania drew the black casket and dropped down into the center of the smooth basin. She placed the casket on the ground and kneeled before it, facing us. Mania looked very dramatic, like a performer on a stage, positioned at the edge of the pool of light cast by our chariots. The shadows deformed her perfect little face, making her appear like a grotesque dwarf.

Moving slowly and carefully, as if performing an offering to the gods, she opened the lid to reveal what must have been at least fifty phials of ambrosia.

The box was designed in such a way that as she raised the lid, all the stoppers were pulled up with it, opening the phials. It took only a few seconds before I could smell it. Subtle, overpowering, bitter and spicy all at once, just like the drink. Ambrosia. Just the smell of it lit up my brain, sharpened my senses. Mania turned and climbed out of the basin, leaving it there. It was all I could do not to rush down there and grab it. The Tullians' faces were full of greed. They wanted it, they'd seen what advantage it gave the Sertorians.

“Is that all our ambrosia?” I asked. I had to know.

“Yes,” Mania said. “The Hyperboreans are attracted to ambrosia like buzzing little bees to pollen. They'll come now, you see.”

“Our goal is to hold the Viridians on the low ground, in the center of the basin,” Licinus said, addressing us all, “and at the same time keep our escape route open.”

“Then we will move in and crush them,” Potitus Tullius said.

“No. When they come, we'll retreat into the caverns above and leave them to fight the ice apes,” Licinus said patiently.

Time. He was buying time.

Licinus planned to trap the Viridians in the basin. That was why he needed them alive. When the Hyperboreans arrived here, drawn by the scent of ambrosia, the Viridians would have to repel them to keep from being overrun. The way the terrain lay, with a sloping hill running up toward the tunnels behind us, the Viridians would be able to hold the barbarians at bay for as long as their supplies held out. But if they tried to run for the tunnels, they'd be overwhelmed. It was a clever plan. Licinus would keep our competition tied up here while he took care of his barbarian problem in their ambrosia mines. Aulus was close, I could sense it, I knew it. The buzzing wasn't strong, but it was constant. Not the same as the static caused by the ichor, rather a slight directional tug, though nothing powerful enough to lead in a specific direction.

“The Blue Bulls do not retreat,” Potitus objected.

“Of course, you're right,” Licinus replied. “The Blue Bulls will hold the ground and kill the Viridians when they come for the ambrosia. After the Hyperboreans have successfully engaged the Wolves, you may effect a strategic withdrawal.”

“Yes. Strategic withdrawal. We do not retreat. And then you will give us a proper share of the ambrosia,” the leader demanded.

“Agreed.”

Licinus held little regard for the Tullians. They were allies but occupied a lesser sphere of existence in the Sertorian mind. The Bulls were there to play the same role Lurco played aboard
Incitatus
—sacrificial offerings, pawns to be moved as Licinus saw fit in order to guarantee his plans came to fruition.

This was the arena where I must make my play, and Marcus was the key. He had the immunity amulet. They couldn't kill him, so they'd have to contain him in the basin. I could only hope he'd come rolling in here with the Golden Wolves.

“It's time,” I said quietly to Julia. “I'm going to take on the Blood Hawks.”

She was in the midst of unfolding a shelter from the chariot and checked to make certain no one could overhear us.

“No you are fucking not,” she hissed under her breath.

“I need you to disable their chariot. Make sure it can't go anywhere for now.”

“You can't take them on alone. It's suicide. You're guaranteeing your brother's death.”

“I won't take them all at once. First I'm going to split them up. Which is why I want that chariot grounded. Make it happen and then retreat to the tunnels above until I need you.”

“Accala.”

I walked away. She'd better do as she was told.

With the ambrosia in the casket in my possession I could accomplish anything, but without it I was a slave. True freedom comes only with power.

As I walked past Crassus, I squeezed his shoulder.

“Rubicon,” I murmured.

“Rubicon,” he replied with a nod. It was all set.

Julia required a ten-minute debate and a review of her orders before she could make a decision, but Crassus and I were gladiators—we knew how and when to act. Gods, I could taste it. I wanted to cut these Hawks so badly, to see them suffer as they'd made me suffer. The Rubicon was a trickle, a piddling stream. When I took my vengeance, I would create a tide of blood to equal the Nile in flood, and then, once I had my brother and the ambrosia, who knew what path the Furies would lay before me?

Hours passed as we waited for the Viridians. I avoided looking at Julia, except to ensure that she was where she should be, tinkering with the engines of the chariot. Aboveground, Olympus Decimus' golden sun would be rising. Anything resembling sleep eluded me. I needed rest desperately, but there was no winding down, not until the deed was done.

The Viridians snuck into the cavern with their lights off and tried to surprise us, but the sensors Mania and Barbata put in place on the path up to the basin had already triggered and we were ready.

Mania rushed down in the poor light, took one phial and smashed it into the center of the basin, spilling ambrosia everywhere, before resealing her casket and ferrying it back to our chariot. A second later, the Viridian chariot blasted the cavern with light and drove forward into the basin. We formed a defensive line along the upper lip. The Tullians were first, and behind them were the Sertorians. Castor and Pollux, Crassus, and Barbata to the front, and Mania, Licinus, and I, with our range weapons, behind them on higher ground.

“Hold the line!” Licinus ordered.

Marcus was there. Thank the Furies. He and Carbo charged along the outer rim of the bowl in desultore skirmishers while the rest drove up the middle in the chariot. They were trying to break our line with a three-pronged attack.

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