Page 118 of The Shadowed Oracle
“Sure,” Monia scoffed. “And it has nothing to do with your feelings about Enitha’s fancy parties, or her?—”
“Hush,” Lucilla snapped.
Monia didn’t seem worried about the perceived threat. “What? There’s no shame in it, Lucilla. You don’t always have to be so obedient.”
“Now I must know,” Ingrid begged. “What is it?”
“Over here.” Monia walked off with her back turned. “Just over here, my lady. Better to show you. Weddings and gala balls aren’t the only fun we Occians have at court. See for yourself.”
She followed the trail to where the young maid now stood. In the fixed attention she’d put into her character, it seemed Ingrid had neglected the path set before her. What had been dark corridors were now much brighter, much taller stone halls lit by the moonlight and the tall beacons littering the outside of the castle.
They came upon a large arching balcony that opened up a view to the Jemii sea. Tucked in the corner of the city was a stone coliseum so large that Ingrid was astonished she’d missed it. On arrival, she and her friends had kept their heads down and hurried to the side entrance designated for merchants and visitors, so it was likely they’d blinded themselves to a fewthings. But this? With its ivory pillars stretching up to the clouds, thousands and thousands of seats stacked like a staircase for the Gods and allowing for the mass of onlookers to never miss a moment of the action…
“Games are held every week now,” Monia said dryly. “Queen Enitha is in attendance at every one of them, if you can believe it.” She rolled her eyes. “Somehow, she finds the time. And she drags her head lady’s maid—” She jerked a thumb at her superior. “To every single one, too.”
Monia’s odd cadence had made it difficult to pick up on the sarcasm earlier, yet now, in the melodic low grunt she’d resorted to, her intent was obvious. At the very least, she disliked her queen. And at best, she didn’t approve of her hobbies.
“Enitha is quite fond of the games,” she continued. “Especially the…” She leaned in close, lowering her voice. “The blood. The never-ending show of it.”
Lucilla had gone suspiciously quiet during her underling’s tirade, looking out to the front columns of the stadium as if she’d only just discovered it. Ingrid took note of her quivering mouth, her forlorn eyes, and debated whether or not to pry.
Maybe, just maybe, both of the maids were disillusioned, disgusted and exhausted enough to help.
“Horrible business,” Lucilla said finally. “If it weren’t my duty, I’d avoid them entirely. Just, horrible business.”
“You said that already,” Monia said curtly.
“Well, some things need to be repeated,” Ingrid argued. “I’d have to agree with you, Lucilla. Killing is not my idea of sport. Far from it.” Twisting herself to be closer to the diminutive maid, she whispered, “Do many die?”
“Yes.” It was all Lucilla could muster.
“Then itishorrible.”
“More than that. Oh, so much more. It’s… it’s… well, there isn’t a word to describe it, I’m afraid.”
Although she did not know the female, Ingrid sensed it was not in Lucilla’s nature to be theatrical. Every word coming out of her mouth felt accurate.
“I’ll admit, it wasn’t all sunshine… before.” Lucilla put great emphasis on the last word. “Our King Horace was no peacemaker. His lust for battle was no secret. But the games, they were for sport. A game through and through. Some unfortunate ones died, yet, more than anything, it was an opportunity for poor young Viator to ascend the ranks and be dubbed a soldier. Entertainment with a purpose, and with honorable intent. Nothing like what it’s become.” The wrinkles in her nose bunched. “Evil, that’s what is now. It’s evil.”
Monia cut in with an ill-fitting squawk, “Do you see the gladiator barracks, just there to the north?” She pointed to a brick square structure, connected to the arena by a thin tunnel where the fighters could be discreetly escorted to and from the field.
“I see it,” Ingrid nodded.
Monia seemed half-excited and half-appalled. “That’s where she keeps him. Where he’s shackled. That’s?—”
“We mustn’t go there,” Lucilla demanded, more out of instinct, it seemed, than a desire to protect the secret.
“Why can’t I tell her? Aren’t you sick of being the only one who knows? Who’s going to believe her anyway?” She looked to Ingrid. “I don’t mean any offense.”
“It’s fine, none taken,” Ingrid said. Though inside, she was ecstatic. These females were not just unhappy with the state of the court since Enitha had taken over the reins, they were concerned about the direction their beloved city was heading.
It was a much-needed stroke of luck.
“We should tell her. Go on, Lucilla.”
Lucilla only gave a sad shrug. “No, you tell it, child. If it pleases you, you tell her.”
Before Ingrid could turn, Monia grabbed her by the arm and led her away from the balcony and further into the castle, where prying eyes could not see, and any eavesdroppers on the level below could not hear. Lucilla followed close behind.
