Jean Lorrah - Flight to Savage Empire

The screams of the spectators became deafening as they sensed the approaching climax-and the crowning of a new champion.

/ won’t give in ! Zanos thought as he deflected blow after blow, slowly retreating beneath Mallen’s onslaught. He set himself and charged Mallen with the shield, but succeeded only in throwing him back a step.

The crowd cheered Zanos’ bravery, but it was clear they thought he had lost.

It was not in him to accept defeat!

Again he struck at Mallen with the shield-only to be driven back once more, until his foot struck something half-buried in the sand-

Deliberately, he fell to one knee, giving Mallen the advantage. The crowd shrieked anticipation.

Using a lateral swing, Mallen knocked the shield from Zanos’ grip, sending him sprawling. With a cry of triumph, Mallen towered over him, sword raised for the death stroke as Zanos scrambled to his knees-

Mallen’s victory cry became a scream of pain as Zanos’ clasped hands came up right where his armor separated when he raised his arms-

The sword fell as Mallen clutched futilely at the cut-off shaft of the trident head now sticking out of his chest.

Zanos backed off as Mallen sank to his knees, blood spurting from chest and mouth.

For one long moment, a look passed between the two men. Then one slowly fell on his side as the other rose to his feet.

Zanos stared at the corpse for a long time, only slowly becoming aware of the cheers from the stands all around him. He looked, unseeing, at the blood on his hands, and then at the nodding smile of the Emperor.

Feeling numb and very tired, the Maduran bowed for the last time to the leader of his captors as they cheered the undefeated champion… cheered his first true arena victory.

Zanos was besieged with congratulations and offers to buy him victory drinks before he even reached the medical room. Some of his fighters had to clear a path for him and keep out the well-wishers while he was being examined.

The stiff silence of the Reader who cleansed and

bandaged his wounds was a welcome relief. Zanos waited until he and two of his men were leaving the stadium before allowing himself to think about Astra, let himself wonder where she was and when she’d hear about his victory. Part of him wished she were here to share his joy, but that would have to wait until tomorrow, after he’d recovered his strength through a good meal and a long night of healing sleep.

He hadn’t seen Ard since the match began, just after he’d entrusted his servant with his personal seal and the gold for wagering.

“No need to worry, Master,” Aeson said. “As soon as you won, Ard went to collect your winnings.

Salamis and Massos are helping him carry all that gold back to your villa. Not a legion of thieves would dare try to rob them]”

Fine. Zanos could trust Ard to see he wasn’t cheated. Soon Ard and Lanna would no longer be his servants, but fellow countrymen, journeying back to Madura with him. He could hardly wait till it was safe to tell them of his powers-but not until they were all on board the ship he would soon own, with the empire at their backs. Tomorrow , he thought with satisfaction, / can start turning my dream into a real plan for getting out of here .

And he deliberately put out of his mind Mallen’s description of Madura.

A victorious gladiator, especially one who had received no serious injury, was expected to celebrate..

Zanos usually enjoyed such parties, but today’s combat had drained his Adept energies more than he had first realized. By the time he had made a brief appearance at his third party, he was fighting heavy fatigue, moving little better than a sleepwalker.

Some of the partygoers made jokes about the gladiator having too much wine, but he had drunk no more than a swallow or two, while restraining himself from eating more than his share of the food set out. He was content to let them believe what they wanted as he stumbled toward his villa, supported by two of his fighters. His home was almost in sight when a mob of his friends seemed to descend out of nowhere, sweeping him along to the house of Gareth, one of the other stable owners.

Despite his weary protests, he was put in a thronelike chair at the head of a table. It was all he could do to stay awake and acknowledge the praise heaped upon him by those who’d won heavily on his victory.

Eventually he became aware of a new group of guests-Morella and her girls, wearing their prettiest clothes and best painted faces.

The party quickly turned to something approaching an orgy, giving Zanos the perfect excuse to make his exit. Standing up, however, proved to be a little difficult, and the door seemed a hundred miles away.

Morella and one of her girls appeared beside him, each slipping under one of his arms to give him the support he needed. Morella made some joke about a sleepy little boy needing to be put to bed, and he managed a weak smile as they drifted out of the noisy warmth of Gareth’s house and into the quiet coolness of the street.

Some time later, he was lowered into his bed and his sandals removed. It felt good to have such friends- but they weren’t his usual friends. They smelled too good.

Was he in danger? No… but still something felt… wrong … somewhere in his world.

Whatever it was, it would have to wait until morning. A light blanket slowly settled over his torso as his last strength faded, lowering him into dreamless sleep.

“By Mawort’s golden blade!”

Zanos’ swearing woke Astra from her fitful sleep. As she sat up in the gladiator’s bed, he jumped out of it. She could Read guilty fear in him, then puzzlement as he realized that he was still fully dressed, and so was she-

As a prostitute.

“Astra?” He became unReadable again as he squinted at her painted face. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Zanos,” she said solemnly. “I’m sorry I startled you. I forgot about this stuff on my face. I didn’t expect to fall asleep, but I lay down here because I was almost as weary as you were. Morella and I all but carried you here from Gareth’s house.”

“But what are you doing here?” he demanded. “And why are you dressed like that?”

“I had no place else to go. My life as a Reader is over.”

Zanos sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her, as she told him what she had discovered at Tressa’s wedding.

“White lotus?” he asked. “Given to a Reader? But Astra, it just doesn’t make sense to addict all the Readers on the Path of the Dark Moon-there isn’t enough of the stuff in the whole empire to serve the craving of so many people. I could understand addicting your friend if she were not being failed-if she were going to be forced to do someone’s dirty work, like Darien and Primus.”

Astra did not correct his assumption that Tressa was her friend-if it hadn’t been for Astra’s cowardice, by this time she should have been. Instead…

“It wasn’t the addictive form,” she explained.

“What?” Zanos asked in obvious confusion. “White lotus is the most addictive drug I know of.”

“Yes, in the form distilled directly from the plant. But I learned in my medical training about derivatives which retain the power to make a patient highly suggestible, but cause no later craving. They are used to treat patients, with, mind sickness.. I had . only the most basic of such training, as my talents lie in music, not healing-but I did learn about the existence of such drugs. Zanos, right now I’m not certain how much I learned from Portia’s mind and how much I have pieced together, but this is what I know:

“Sometimes Readers who fail to reach the highest ranks are given a white lotus derivative in their marriage wine. The Master Reader performing the ceremony then implants the suggestion not only that husband and wife will be completely happy with one another, but that their Reading powers will be permanently reduced when they consummate their marriage.”