Ryan Hughes - The Darkness Before the Dawn

"I thought not. So, I will leave that aspect of your performance to you, and we will concentrate on your use of weapons. Today you will learn how to use swords."

He and Shani proceeded to show them how to wield a blade, how to hold it en garde, how to attack, parry, feint, and execute dozens of other techniques that every good gladiator could perform in his sleep. By the end of the day their heads were buzzing with the unfamiliar terms and their muscles ached in brand new places. All the same, Jedra was surprised to realize that he had a natural aptitude for the sword. Some instinct seemed to guide his hand when he most needed it, until by the end of the day he could spar with Sahalik for up to a minute before the elf wore down his guard.

When they finished their last session of the day, both of them panting and slick with sweat, Sahalik pointed at the knife scars all over Jedra's body and said, "I wouldn't have believed it, seeing how many blades you've let through your guard since I last saw you, but I think we've found your weapon." He took a long drink from the waterskin they kept beside the practice field, then handed it to Shani. "How did you survive all those, anyway? Some of them look serious."

"I didn't," Jedra said, then he realized how strange that sounded. "I almost didn't, anyway. Kayan found me where I lay dying, and she healed me." He smiled at Kayan, who turned away and took the waterskin from Shani.

Sahalik grunted appreciatively. "You must've had a hard time of it after I... left."

"We did." Jedra waited for the waterskin, took a long swallow of warm water, then said, "We, uh, we got kicked out of the tribe the next day. We spent quite a while in the desert before we found Kitarak, and then..." He shrugged. "And then more stuff happened, and here we are."

Sahalik laughed. " 'And then more stuff happened.' Yes, a fitting end to any tale." His laughter died, though, and he asked, "What you told me earlier about the Jura-Dai. That was true? They were in trouble when you left them? They wanted me back?"

Jedra nodded. "They would welcome you with open arms."

"Hmm," the elf said. "Well, they will have to do without me for a while longer, at least. I have my own battles to fight here." He laughed wickedly and walked off toward his own quarters.

"What did he mean by that?" Jedra asked Shani. "Does he fight in the games too?"

"Of course he does," she said. "He's Rokur's champion."

Even if Sahalik had come straight to Tyr after leaving the Jura-Dai, he couldn't have been there over a fortnight. Champions must come and go awfully fast, Jedra thought. But of course they did, since someone had to die in nearly every battle.

"I hope he's as good as he thinks he is," Jedra said, surprised that he should care.

Sahalik and Shani worked their new team mercilessly day after day, but after their first taste of what awaited them in the arena, Jedra and Kayan soaked up every bit of knowledge as eagerly as they could. Jedra did, at any rate; Kayan fought her battles with precision and skill, but she showed no enthusiasm when she succeeded in penetrating Shani or Kitarak's guard, and she retired to their quarters immediately after each battle.

When Jedra tried to talk with her, she responded like a zombie until he gave up and left her alone. He was afraid for her mind, afraid that the cruelties they'd endured since their first enslavement had finally broken her spirit, but he could think of nothing to bring her out of it. Escape seemed extremely unlikely, yet so did their chances of surviving long as gladiators.

However, if survival as gladiators was their only option, then Jedra intended to do just that. He still didn't like the idea of killing other people for sport, but his experience with Lothar had changed his attitude a little. Lothar had wanted to be there, and he had willingly fought a couple of slaves who didn't. Jedra and Kayan had tried to spare his life, but even killing him would have been self-defense under any moral code Jedra had ever heard of. Sahalik assured him that now that he and Kayan had won a battle, anyone else they fought would also be professionals, so they didn't have to worry about killing other slaves. Anyone they faced would be someone who wanted to be there, someone who had chosen their dangerous career and chosen them as opponents in the hopes of winning higher status by beating a winning team. That didn't necessarily make it all right to kill them, but the only other option amounted to suicide, which Jedra didn't think should be required of him either. So he would fight in the arena. He would hate it, and he would escape at the first opportunity, but in the meantime he would fight.

But today he fought a human, a woman both taller and stockier than Kayan, and who also fought with swords. She carried one in either hand, a short, stabbing knife in her left and a longer, double-edged rapier in her right.

The crier announced the fight, saying, "Last week you watched one of these combatants cut off a wild tigone's paws one at a time before taking its head for a trophy. The other team you watched argue over tactics and dispute the honor of dealing the final blow. Today, who knows what amusement awaits when... Braxa of the House of Gnorr fights... Jedra and Kayan of House Rokur."

Since Braxa had been named first, she stepped into the arena first. She spun her knife and sword in circles before her, scattering reflections off the glistening blades and drawing an enthusiastic cheer from the audience.

Her jewel-encrusted brass brassiere and equally sparkling chain-link loincloth-revealing an alarming amount of bare skin for a gladiator, woman or not-no doubt added to their excitement.

As Jedra and Kayan followed her, Kayan looked disdainfully at her own saber, a slightly curved, single-edged blade about as long as her arm, and said almost casually, "Maybe if I distract her with my neck you'll have a chance to stab her in the back."

"What?" Jedra said, shocked. "Kayan, don't talk like that. We'll win this one easy."

"Sure we will." She spun her own sword around in a circle, but she didn't flex her arm right and the blade flew out of her grasp on the upswing, to land point-first in the sand a few feet away. The crowd roared with laughter while she bent to retrieve it.

"That's good," Jedra said. "Make her think we're clumsy." And maybe make the psionicists think we need our psionic talent to help make a fair fight, he thought, but he couldn't risk saying that. He promptly fumbled his own blade, though, wincing as if he'd just cut himself with it.

The woman, Braxa of House Gnorr, sneered. "Make your jests while you can," she said, "but the final laugh will be mine."

"And a good day to you, too," Jedra said, bowing slightly. He was afraid his voice would crack and reveal his real terror at facing her experienced blade, but he had to hold on for Kayan's sake. If he could convince her that he was confident, maybe she would grow more so herself.

The crier, standing a few paces away, spread his arms out, then raised them high. "Begin!" he shouted.

This time Jedra leaped first. He stabbed straight for Braxa's bare bosom, and his sword hit home, but instead of piercing her ribs and sliding into her heart, the point lodged in a link of the chain holding her brassiere cups together, barely scratching the tender skin beneath.

She flipped her long sword up, inside Jedra's guard.

He felt the edge bite into the soft underside of his upper arm, but before she could shove the point into his chest he twisted away, pulling his sword free and disengaging.

Kayan hadn't moved. "Come on, give me a hand here!" Jedra yelled at her, and she belatedly swung at Braxa, but the experienced gladiator parried her blow without effort and only Jedra's sudden lunge toward her exposed side kept her from replying with a deadly attack of her own.