Page 16 of Ironhold: Trial Five

I back away, swinging my net in acircular motion that I hope the crowd will believe is designed just to catchanything that comes my way. I adjust the movement slightly as a sword blowcomes at me, and feel the weapon wrap around Aya’s sword, tangling it.

But she uses it to pull me in, herstrength far greater than my own. I see her raising her other sword through theeyes of the birds, and I manage to duck inside the swing, slamming into her.

“We both know you can't wrestle,”she snarls, even as she slams her helmet into mine in a vicious headbutt thatmakes my ears ring. Through the eyes of the birds, I see her drop her tangledsword, and I feel the impact as she swings a punch into my ribs.

I try to pull back from her, butshe's holding me tight, so I must copy her idea and drop my spear. It is toolong to use at such close quarters. I go to draw my knife, and her hand closesover my wrist. I can see her pulling back her other arm, still holding a sword,ready to finish me.

I drop, falling to the ground andswinging my net around her ankles. Even though her sword is still tangled init, that does not stop the movement. If anything, the additional weight meansthat I can wrap her legs up more easily. I yank them from under her, and shetumbles to the ground.

I crawl searching for my spear andeven with the eyes of the birds I must grope for it. I see Aya working todisentangle her legs. She is getting up now, her sword rising, obviouslyknowing exactly where I am.

I lift my spear and thrust. I feelthe impact as it plunges deep into her torso, impaling her as she throwsherself forward at me. Her sword skitters from my vambraces, opening anotherwound on my arm, but it is the last strike she has the strength to throw. Hersword falls from her fingers, and she collapses to the sand.

“Kill, kill, kill!” the crowdchants.

“Finish her,” the emperor commands.

In another fight, at another time,I would refuse to do it, but I can still see Alaric through the eyes of thebirds. I can see him, and I know what is at stake here.

“Finish her or he pays the price!”

The crowd probably doesn’t knowwhat’s going on, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that the emperor isproving he has power over me. He’s proving that he can make me do whatever hewants. I go to Aya, pulling my spear from her chest as she lies there, handsstill groping for her sword.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, and I slamthe point of the spear down again, through her heart.

Chapter Nine

I return to the space beneath thecolosseum, my heart aching with the fact that I have been forced to kill at theemperor's whim. I head to the healers, sitting on a stone slab while they workon me, healing the injuries Aya inflicted on me while I strove not to show thepowers I now have access to again.

I know she would have killed me ifshe had the chance, but that doesn't make it better. This isn't about what shewould have done; it's about the ways the system of the colosseum has changed mein the time I have been here. In my first season, I refused to kill even whenthe emperor commanded it. Somewhere along the line, I have become more willingto do what is required. I have hardened and become a more dangerous gladiator,but I suspect I have also lost something in the process.

I look around, seeing that Rowan isalso receiving treatment.

“How bad are your wounds?” I askhim, hoping that he is not too badly injured. A bad wound in one round of thegames can mean being forced to miss the rest of them and thus the season notcounting towards freedom. Or worse, we can be made to fight anyway, and thewound can slow us down enough that we are vulnerable to our opponents.

“I'm fine,” Rowan says. He doesn'tadd more than that, but rather he stands, heading for the door.

“Are you going to the noblereception rooms?” I ask.

I see him wince. I've said thewrong thing because I'm sure that Lady Tyra is waiting for him there.

“Let me go with you,” I say, butRowan is already walking out of there. It's obvious he doesn't want to talk tome. Clearly, he doesn't want to risk being caught up in the revolt I am wrappedup in. Maybe he's still angry with me for even suggesting it to him. Rowan hasmade his feelings clear when it comes to revolts.

I want to follow but I need to letthe healers finish their work. That means sitting there on the stone slab forlong minutes while I'm forced to imagine what might be happening between Rowanand his former owner. I'm impatient to get out of here now, and not justbecause I don't want to sit in a room that contains the bodies of the dead.

Aya’s body is here, staring over atme with blank eyes in a way that I imagine is somehow an accusation. I want toget away from her even as I know that I must fulfill my duty and attend thenobles in their receiving room.

I head up through the colosseum, toa bright, light room hung with silken tapestries and with a mosaic floor. Thereare couches here on which nobles lounge, while servants stand nearby withgolden platters of food and jugs of wine. There are rooms nearby where thenobles can take us for more privacy.

Being in this place brings back badmemories. It is a place where the nobles go to be seen with gladiators, to geta frisson of danger by spending time around them. Many feel that it brings themhonor to spend time around successful fighters, and it allows them to buildconnections with the gladiators for the moment when those warriors pass throughtheir five seasons in the games and are free. It is also a place where thenobles often seek to seduce the gladiators, where they seek to lay claim to allthe young, muscular bodies they have seen fighting on the arena floor.

I can see plenty of gladiators herealready, talking in groups with nobles, sitting on couches with them. I seeCesca seated between a noble couple. Even as I watch, she rises, taking both oftheir hands and leading them towards a side room.

Nobles start to approach me, but Ikeep my distance. The iron collar around my neck proclaims me a slavegladiator, but that doesn't mean they can all do as they wish. Many of themlook at me with something like awe, which is surprising when they're all noblesand I am common born.

“Have you considered what you'll doonce you complete this season?” a nobleman in his twenties asks.

“Oh, leave her alone Cirrus. I'msure she has no interest in being your lover while you write poetry about her.”

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