Tanys Gladiatrix (The Chronicles of Tanys Book 2) (7 page)

"Those are Duke Sacru'Lac's men!" Baran said, "Your friend is in trouble."

"We have to do something!" Tanys said, half-rising before Baran pulled her down.

"We can do nothing," he said, "It is death to interfere with a match."

Tanys wrested her arm from his grasp, but the sick feeling in her stomach told her the truth of his words. Jorva was on his own. He had faced tough odds before and prevailed. All she could do is watch.

"Tanys!" Danella whispered, her eyes fearful.

"I know."

The horns sounded again, a comic trill this time, and the last gate opened. Jorva, clad in his spiked mail, bounded into the arena. The crowd erupted with cheers and laughter at the sight of him.

Jorva ran to the center of the arena, leaping and growling, enjoying the sport of being a badger. The seven killers grimly advanced, their spears leveled on the little man.

Jorva saw them come, and some of his cheerful demeanor slipped away. He showed his pointed teeth in a broad grin as he turned a wary circle, looking for a weak point in the constricting ring of men surrounding him. He sprang quickly within striking range of one of the men and, just as quickly, back out again, but the man ignored the feint, keeping in step with his comrades.

Jorva's massive shoulders bunched with determination, the smile slipping from his face. With a shout, he suddenly charged in a different direction, throwing himself beneath the point of a spear and coming up inside the spearman's guard. Jorva's spiked fist rammed into the man's belly, lifting him off his feet and dropping him, writhing in the sand. The crowd cheered as Jorva broke free of the circle of hunters and ran.

The men gave chase, their long legs closing the gap quickly between them and the shorter man. Jorva looked back over his shoulder at his pursuers, ducking a thrown spear. He turned sharply, and then turned again, suddenly sprinting into the midst of the huntsmen. Dodging a spear thrust, the little man dove between a hunter's legs. Rolling to his feet behind the man, Jorva leapt again, kicking backwards like a mule, driving both feet into the man's buttocks. Laughter erupted throughout the stands as the hunter fell face-first into the sand.

Another spear glanced off the pauldron of Jorva's armor, and Jorva grabbed the weapon's haft, yanking the man forward towards him. A gurgling cry rang out as Jorva tore the man's throat out with his teeth. The dwarf cast the body aside, grinning wetly, his armor drenched in blood. Then he let out a yelp as a spear tip found a gap in his mail. Jorva danced away, clutching his side as the hunters closed in. Another spear, swung like a staff rang across his armored back, staggering him. Jorva howled as a spear pierced through his unarmored calf.

Tanys sprang from her seat, thinking to aid her friend in some way, but Baran pulled her down again. She turned on him, swinging her fist. Baran took the blow on his cheek, grabbing her wrists. "No!" he said, "There's nothing we can do!"

Tanys closed her eyes tightly, letting her rage subside. She nodded, spreading her fingers in submission, and Baran released her. She did not look at him, but turned her attention back to the arena where men were trying to murder her friend.

Jorva had killed another man, leaving four uninjured and one mortally wounded man bleeding in the sand. Jorva circled the tight knot of warriors, limping visibly. The little man growled and hissed like the wild animal he pretended to be. He paused, as though thinking, then slipped clear the chinstrap of his spiked helmet and pulled it from his head. With a sudden motion, the dwarf hurled the helmet at the nearest hunter, and the crack of metal on the man's skull could be heard from across the arena.

Before the man had time to fall, Jorva was among them. He leapt, springing off the shaft of a missthrust spear, to land astride a gladiator's shoulders. Jorva took the man's head between his hands, twisting it backwards with a sickening pop. A huntsman grabbed the harness of Jorva's mail and yanked him free of the dead man. Jorva landed on his back in the sand, even as the second huntsman drove his spear down through the open collar of Jorva's scaled shirt.

Tanys screamed. Baran grunted, his mighty arms straining to hold her back.

Jorva lay motionless for a second, as though stunned. Then he kicked out, his heavy boot crumpling the knee of the spearman who had stabbed him. The man cried out and fell, releasing his grip on the spear. Jorva regained his footing, his left arm dangling limp. The long spear protruded from his bloodied shoulder. The dwarf took its haft in his right hand and turned his face to gnaw at the wood. With a loud crack, the better part of the spear broke away, and Jorva cast it aside, leaving the splintered stump sticking out of him.

The last, uninjured man stepped back, looking between his crippled comrade and the bloody dwarf. Jorva's teeth gleamed in a broad grin. The crowd roared for blood. A look of mad desperation washed over the man's face, and he charged.

Jorva spun, deflecting the spear with his good hand and whipping his forearm across the man's throat as he stumbled past. The man's body landed in the sand, throwing up a cloud of dust that settled slowly around the motionless form. Jorva turned to face the gladiator whose knee he had smashed. The man looked up at him, face white with terror and pain, and then he fainted. Jorva tried to shrug his shoulders and winced as he noticed again the bloody stump of the spear transfixing his collarbone. He tugged ineffectually at it as the audience leapt to their feet in wild applause.

Baran smiled as he turned to speak to Tanys, but she and Danella were already gone.

"No more matches!" Tanys shouted.

Haru looked utterly miserable, sitting in the corner of the poorly lit surgeon's cell beneath the arena. The surgeon himself was nowhere in sight, having been driven from the room by Danella the moment they got Jorva on the table. At last Haru'Luk managed to speak, "But the..."

"It was all set up!" Tanys said, "They're trying to kill us off one at a time. We have to stay together and keep on our guard. You or Danella could be the next one they try to kill. Look at what they did to Jorva!"

"Jorva fine, Tanys. Jorva just get poked... a little," the little man said, his voice shaky and weak as Danella, sweating and cursing, dug the iron spearhead out of his shoulder.

"We have to do the Prince's match," Haru said, "I've already..."

"The Prince's match is the one match we are doing!" Tanys hissed, "The last match we are doing. I'm going to kill that little Malchesse monster, and then we are getting the fuck out of this fucking desert!"

Haru wisely held his tongue.

"But Tanys," Danella said, "you heard what Baran said."

"You talked to Baran?" Haru asked.

"Doesn't matter what Baran said!"

"But even he's afraid of her," Danella said, yanking a piece of metal from Jorva's bone with forceps. The dwarf whimpered once and passed out.

Tanys ignored her. "Haru," she said, "you need to be ready. As soon as the Prince's match is over, we need to be on the road. Someone is going to be very unhappy when I'm still alive and Brecia isn't, and I don't intend to stick around to see what revenge they dream up for us."

Haru looked a bit sick, but did not argue.

"You bet everything you can on me," Tanys said, "and you have Danella and Jorva packed up and ready to go as soon as we collect the winnings. Danella, you'd better set up some sort of bed in a wagon. We can ditch it if we need to travel fast, but I don't know what sort of shape I'll be in after the fight. It's best to be prepared for the worst."

"A bed in a wagon ain't the worst that can happen," Danella said.

Tanys looked at her. There was real fear in Danella's eyes. Tanys smiled and started to speak, but a noise at the doorway drew her attention.

A smirking, one-eared satyr in a yellow doublet leaned against the doorframe. He hefted a bag of coins in his hand and then tossed it to Haru. "My master sends his congratulations, Haru'Luk," the stranger said.

Haru stared down at the sack of gold in his lap. "This is more than I should have won. Who is your master?"

"The Duke, Ayet Nael Sacru'Lac," he answered, "He was most impressed with the way your dwarf dispatched his men."

An uncomfortable silence hung over the room. Tanys' lips twitched with the message she would like to send to the mysterious Duke. Haru stood quickly, hastening to interpose himself between the raven girl and the satyr messenger. "My thanks to your master," Haru said, "I must confess that I did not realize I would be so honored to pit my man against the Duke's house."

"We know," the yellow-clad satyr drawled, "You've been playing your fighters beneath their abilities. My master, and others, feel that you have too long feigned humility."

"I'm afraid I don't..."

"Oh relax, Haru. It is a compliment they pay you," he said, "You are being noticed... noticed by important people. This little fracas was both a test and a warning. You passed, and now it is time that you put away your petty crimes and become something bigger... something legitimate."

Haru's jaw worked but no sound came out. At last he asked, "May I know your name?"

"Torke," the one-eared satyr answered.

Haru bowed. "Vella no-durain, Torke."

Torke snorted, his eyes narrowing at the formal greeting. "Well... in any case, I am to invite you to dinner at the Duke's manor house this evening. Be there at sunset. Don't bother bringing a gift... and wear the best thing you own."

Torke did not wait for any reply. He simply turned and was gone, leaving Haru, Tanys, and Danella to stare at the empty doorway.

"What a prick!" Tanys said.

Haru had opened the bag and was counting the money. Tanys could hear his breath quickening with lust for gold. When he looked up, the faun's eyes burned with greed.

"You are not seriously considering this?" Tanys groaned.

"I cannot turn down an invitation like this," Haru said, "and, anyway, it's only dinner."

"He all but told you to use the slave's entrance!"

"Tanys, you don't understand!" Haru said, "That's the way it is here. You do have to lick a few boots, as you put it, to be anyone in this city. I'm finally getting my chance to be recognized."

"I thought you were already a prince or something here?"

"In the goddamned swamp!" Haru muttered, "But here, where the real power is, my family is nothing."

"Then let's go to the goddamned swamp," Tanys said, "to the goddamned mountains, to the goddamned island of prancing unicorns! Let's just get out of here."

Haru stared down at his bag of gold, his ears drooping. "If I run away now... if I give up this opportunity, I won't ever be anything... anyone. I don't expect you to understand."

"Why?" Tanys demanded, "Because I'm just some half-breed outcast? You don't think I wanted to be a part of something? You don't think I tried everything I could think of to fit in with my tribe, to not be different? You know what I learned from all that? People will always need someone to throw rocks at. If you want them to stop throwing rocks at you, you've got to give them someone else to throw rocks at."

"To hell with that! And to hell with you! If you want to be one of them so bad, then go ahead. I told you I'd kill the Malchesse bitch, and I will. After that, we're through!"

Tanys shook with rage as she strode out of the room into the shadows of the underpits. She thought she glimpsed a flash of yellow at the end of the hall, but she no longer cared about the petty intrigues of Haru's degenerate race.

The remainder of the week passed in stony silence at the villa. Haru avoided Tanys, and she spent what time she had left training and preparing herself for the Prince's match. At her instructions, Danella prepared the wagon and supplies they would need for their escape from the Holy City. Though Jorva healed quickly, it would be at least a month, by Danella's estimate, before he could fight again.

Tanys did not know where they would go. They had passed through some promising areas during their journey from the North. Still, returning along that path would seem too much like giving up, and too much like going back. South then, to fabled jungles, lost cities, and ancient treasures, guarded by inhuman beasts. That would be her route, and Jorva and Danella would go with her.

Tanys saw little of Haru'Luk before the match. He was always dressed in his finest clothes and always in a hurry to leave. On the day of the match, he spoke to her for the first time in days.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Tanys nodded.

The palace glowed with golden lamps and polished alabaster columns. The household slaves were all women of exquisite beauty, their hair perfectly styled, their bodies dusted with scented powders, and their faces frozen in perpetual smiles, eyes downturned. Perfumed satyrs, dressed in rich silks, sauntered among the columns and feast-laden tables of the Prince's hall, ignoring the house slaves as they did the ornate furniture. Tanys strode behind Haru'Luk, naked beneath her thin silk robe. Danella had oiled her body until her skin glistened like polished amber. The girl had taken her time, caressing Tanys' body with soft, firm hands, as though she would never touch her friend again.

Tanys was glad it would soon be over. She saw the satyrs watching her as she passed and heard their lascivious whispers. She hated them all. She passed through a gilded archway and found herself in the presence of their Prince.