The Red Warrior: The Warrior Race, Book Two Read online

  "No surprise at all," said Dom. "The point is that Merk is now safe due to his name, at least for now. Vesper cannot kill him, though she dearly wishes to. You are in a similar boat..."

  "Not quite," cut in Kira. "I am still a gladiator. She can still just put me against Shadow, or Jaeger, or someone else who's stronger than me. She won't need to change the conditions at all then. I got lucky today. Redmane suited my speed and style. If I come against someone faster, I'm done."

  Dom didn't enjoy the defeat in her voice.

  "You don't know that," he said.

  "I do," rose Kira's words. "I know exactly what I'm capable of, and am not going to win this tournament."

  She turned away, clearly wanting to say more, and began shaking her head quickly as she let out a speedy breath. Her green eyes were lit and flaming, staring off towards the balcony. Dom looked again at Rufus, an expert in such matters, hoping his loyal instructor would agree with him. Dom's stare forced him to speak.

  "You do have a chance, Kira," Rufus said quietly. "Anything can happen out there. We've seen it before. I...I was never favourite when I won."

  Kira slowly turned back and caught his eyes.

  "It's true," nodded Dom. "Rufus wasn't my first seed. He won through sheer grit and determination. He succeeded where others didn't because he was smarter than the rest, more crafty. Yes, he is very powerful, but power comes from more than just the body, but the mind. Your mind is sharp as a razor, Kira. Never let it fail you, and tell you you have no chance. If you tell yourself that, then you've lost already."

  Dom watched the green-eyed warrior's expression lift a little. He yearned for it, to see her confident and infallible. As she lost hope in herself, so did he in his conviction to keep sending her out there. He was growing weaker in her presence, and he knew it was wrong. But he couldn't tear himself from her, not until she understood, not until he'd explained.

  He locked eyes with her for a while, pleading, drifting away into the bright green of her irises. A temptation passed through him to read her thoughts, enter her mind, perhaps even withdraw her concerns and set an attitude of total assurance within her.

  But he didn't. He couldn't.

  If she was to believe, it had to come from herself.

  Eventually, her eyes drifted away again, and she began looking out towards the balcony and the cooling night air. The stars were just about visible, sparkling in the distance. The skies, unhindered by pollution, were so clear here.

  "It's...beautiful out there," she whispered. "We don't get nights like this in Haven."

  She looked back to Dom and smiled gently. The look of vulnerability, of innocence, drew a tender smile to his own face.

  He sat forward and picked up his wine.

  "It's even more beautiful from up there," he said, glancing up to the ceiling. "Would you like to see it?"

  "See it?"

  "The city at night," said Dom, seeing a chance to soothe her, relax her bubbling nerves. "You can see all over from the roof."

  Kira's smile burgeoned.

  "I'd like that very much."

  15

  As Dom stood, wine in hand, Kira took up her own goblet. It was useful to have a prop, she knew, to make her appear more natural. She could gaze over the rim while sipping, hiding her eyes as they went to work. And this was work, that was for sure.

  And it was going rather well.

  Dom had been unusually candid so far in his explanations to Kira. She suspected that he didn't behave like this among his stock very often, and while she could now see that he had taken a liking to her, knew that there was far more at play. By the sounds of it, something very serious was brewing in the city, and one way of another, Dom was going to be right at the heart of it.

  As they walked through the living space and towards a door at the back, Kira made sure to keep all thoughts of her plans at bay. After all, Dom was telepathic, and had the ability to read her mind should she make eye contact with him. Her experience of such people was quite extensive, and she'd learned over the years to display only the sort to thoughts she didn't mind being seen. Right now, she merely had to make sure that, should Dom seek to infiltrate her mind, he'd find nothing too incriminating.

  They passed through the door, and up a set of winding stone stairs. With Rufus following behind, his sharp, feline eyes missing little, she knew she needed to be careful. Though friendly and understanding, these two were not her allies. They were supportive only in aiding her in the games. Helping her escape this place certainly wasn't on their radar.

  Reaching the roof, Kira continued to play her role well. The concerns she'd spoken of - of entering the arena and being pitted against the likes of Jaeger or Shadow - were entirely valid. And while it seemed the support she'd garnered from the crowd would act in her favour, she was also quite sure it wouldn't stop Vesper from making her next fight too difficult to overcome.

  As far as she saw it, she'd do all she could to avoid stepping back onto the sand. And whether Vesper saw her reign end or not, she didn't much care. After all, she had her own battle to fight back in Haven. She wasn't about to enter into a conflict on foreign soil.

  As she reached the roof, and Dom began pointing out the various structures and districts of interest, Kira smiled along and sipped her wine. Small sips only, of course - she didn't wish to lose her faculties by imbibing too freely - but regular enough to allow her to play her role, and dart her gaze all over the city from this beneficial vantage.

  The roof was sufficiently lofty to offer a full view in all directions. Dom's primary focus was to the northeast, away where the Colosseum stood tall, still lit with an array of red lights and with the crowd milling about outside it like ants searching for food.

  He explained the structure's history in a little more detail, telling Kira of how it was built by an Emperor named Vespasian, thousands of years ago.

  Kira caught the connection immediately, but before her question was voiced, Dom said, "Yes, my mother named herself after him. When she claimed the throne here, the old Colosseum was little more than rubble and foundations. She rebuilt it, bigger than ever, adding her own embellishments." He spoke wistfully, shaking his head. "She was once a good ruler, you know. Neorome prospered for many years under her guidance. But...she isn't the same now. And neither is the city."

  He continued on, wandering slowly around the roof, Kira stepping along by his side as she listened and learned. He told her of the plaza, and the Imperial Palace atop the hill at its end, and the many squares and important municipal buildings that stretched out beyond the compound.

  Then he pointed to the south, and Kira saw the river, and the network of lanes and alleys that spread out beyond, growing more dense and tight the further from the centre they got. Her eyes picked up it all, missing nothing, seeing how the streets here, so wide and clean and neatly cobbled, turned darker and dirtier and tighter as they meandered off into the distance.

  Even though the sun had long gone, and the light had faded, Kira's enhanced vision took in all details. And her mind logged everything she saw.

  She continued to listen as Dom spoke, and took her chance to ask questions when any opportunity arose. She crafted them carefully, hoping to get some insight into the city's structure, the sewers that were invisible to her eyes that ran beneath it.

  She even managed to siphon information from him about the soldiers who stalked the streets, and how they were thickest in Southside where crime and other such trouble was a more regular facet of life. She considered at first that Southside would be a good place to disappear, the population abundant and closely concentrated. And to get beyond, away to the sea, she'd have to venture in that direction.

  Yet the reward came with risk, that of more soldiers, more prying eyes. And with her red hair and green eyes, and the growing fame of her appearance, fitting in amid the masses would be no easy feat.

  It was all predicated, of course, on escaping the compound in the first place. So her focus was primarily there
, eyes darting down to the walls that surrounded her, counting the soldiers, drawing in their specific scents, garnering as detailed a picture as she could about the structure and the people within it.

  She did it all in secret, and with Rufus hovering to one side. He didn't appear suspicious of her, and she didn't give him any reason to be. The day's events had created a bond of sorts between them, a level of trust that had earned Kira the right to be here. Rufus didn't seem to doubt her intentions, and Dom appeared too engrossed in his passionate recital of the city's history to see it. She took advantage of them both, and slowly but surely, began to comprise a full and total mental map of the world that surrounded her.

  It was a good start, but the picture wasn't entirely pretty. From the cells below, there was no way out, not for the likes of her and Gwyn. Perhaps someone like Oom could tear through the gate, or even break down the walls, crafting a way beyond the compound. But that would draw far too much attention, and Kira's experience of stealth was something she was more inclined to employ.

  Beyond the dungeon, however, it didn't get too much easier. There were guards stationed everywhere, every inch of spare space under watch at some point or another. The walls around the training yard were tall, and with iron spikes atop them. She might conceivably be able to scale it using her speed and agility, but when would she get the chance to do so without anyone seeing? The answer was clear - never. Someone would see, and the guards would come running. It didn't appear an option.

  Really, Kira was beginning to believe that there were only two viable options, both of which were hugely risky and speculative for her somewhat cautious nature. In Haven, though often in dangerous situations, she nevertheless had multiple solutions to any problem she might face. Here, she'd have to take a punt. And the chances of it paying off were slim.

  The first option would require slipping away at some point after being escorted from the compound. That in itself seemed impossible, given how her only time away from this place involved being taken to and from the arena. On those journeys, she was shackled to the carriage, and surrounded by a cohort of mounted soldiers. The odds of her travelling with Gwyn, her ally in this endeavour, were also slim, making any such escape a solo enterprise.

  At the arena, she'd be stuck in the cells, locked behind bars and with soldiers protecting each passage. No way out from there, then. Perhaps she might be able to create some sort of diversion en route, pick the locks of her chains, and escape during the commotion? Not likely.

  It was possible, of course, that she'd be paraded around at some other time, as she and her fellow gladiators were when forced upon those stupid podiums during the pre-games celebration. During that time, however, despite the fact that all the gladiators of the games were gathered in one place, no one dared move a muscle. That in itself spoke volumes - no one believed that an escape was possible in any sort of public forum.

  No, none of that would work for Kira. Aside from the fact that it would be little more than suicidal, she had no way of knowing just when she'd be leaving the compound again, and even more than that, it just wasn't her style.

  She was a sneaker and a creeper, swift and secret as the wind when moving through the shadows. She dealt in silence and stealth, and was rich in that currency. If she was to make it out of here, and do so alive, it had to be in keeping with the things she was good at. Some dramatic public getaway was certainly not that.

  And that led Kira to thoughts of option two, which were a little more credible and persuasive, if not by much. As she saw it, prison escapes were successful via two routes - by doing things alone, or by getting inside help. For her and Gwyn, and perhaps Finn, to be successful on their own steam didn't appear to be possible. They needed an inside man.

  And Kira knew just who that man would be...

  With her wine glass now complete, she put on a smile and continued to act enthralled by Dom's history lesson. On another day, with less on her mind, that might have been true. Still, Dom was clearly convinced of it, and appeared to have plenty more in the tank and a host of stories to tell.

  It was just what Kira wanted.

  Halting him during a gleefully told tale about a great Emperor called Augustus, Kira grabbed his attention and asked him, ever so politely, is she could use the bathroom.

  Dom smiled brightly, seeming completely at ease, and said, "Of course. Rufus will show you the way."

  He turned to his instructor and prepared to give the order, but Kira stopped him, thinking fast.

  "No need," she smiled. "I can follow simple directions."

  Dom chuckled.

  "I'm sure of it," he said. "OK, well just down the stairs and to the left. You can't miss it, it's adjoined to the sitting room."

  He glanced into her cup, and saw that it was empty.

  "You can fetch a refill if you like while you're down there," he said.

  Kira had hoped for such an invite to give her more time, if only seconds. Dom was proving himself to be relaxed in her presence, and couldn't see her hidden motives. She may have not been a telepath like him, but she could manipulate people all the same. Smiles and sparkly eyes could be powerful gifts too.

  "OK," she said. "Would you like one?"

  He nodded, gulped the final contents of his cup, and passed it to her.

  She took it and turned, moving back towards the stairs. Rufus' eyes were a little more wary. He set as if to follow her, and Kira's heart lurched a touch. Then she heard Dom's voice calling him over from behind.

  "Ah, Rufus, would you look at this," he was saying.

  Kira didn't see what it was about, but noticed Rufus quickly changing his stance and moving on over to his master.

  She walked casually down the stairs until she was out of sight. Then she paced quicker, rushing into the sitting room. She saw that the main living area was empty, though a couple of servants were hovering about in the distance, Claud among them. The old attendant looked at her blankly but said nothing, before continuing on with his duties and moving down through the stairs to the floor below.

  Kira placed down the cups and took her chance. She didn't go to the left of the room as Dom had said. She didn't need to use the bathroom at all.

  She was here for a different purpose.

  And time was of the essence.

  16

  It was safe to say that Merk's life had taken an unexpected turn of late.

  In fact, were the mighty man being entirely honest with himself, he'd have to say it had taken several unexpected turns over the last few days.

  Some were truly awful, others somewhat exhilarating, if a little frightening. And now, the latest turn was, perhaps, quite pleasing. After all, other than being at sea, there were few places in the world he'd rather be right now. Master Domitian's residence was a treat he could never have imagined, and one he'd been enjoying for several days.

  Having said that, though a real pleasure to be able to stay in the Prince's villa, he hadn't been able to enjoy it to the full extent he might have wished. That, of course, was owing to the very real threat to his life that continued to linger in the shadows. Here, he'd been told, he was safe. Though circumstances were always liable to change in a city like this.

  Still, Master Domitian had assured him that he wouldn't have to re-enter the arena to see his death penalty fulfilled. Nor, stated his master with absolutely assurance, would he suffer any other such punishment. As the Prince saw it, he'd been exonerated of his apparent crimes of heresy by surviving the cull, and was now untouchable.

  Merk was always inclined to believe every word issued from Master Domitian's mouth. On this occasion, however, he still had his doubts, and they were bolstered by the mere fact that he was being continuously advised not to leave the residence, or even step into the compound beyond it.

  After all, in a city like this, Merk could quite easily have an 'accident' at just about any time. Any number of guards or well paid cutthroats might have been paid off to stick a knife in his back during a stroll down the
street. Only in the residence did Master Domitian trust his guards enough to assure they would not betray him.

  His master had certainly been accommodating beyond all expectation, and had gone above and beyond the call of duty to ensure Merk was well kept. Domitian's position as prince, of course, gave him a great deal of authority to keep the old man safe, yet the Empress was wild beyond all previous recognition, and even her son's requests might fall on deaf ears.

  However, word had reached Merk's ears that his name now meant something. Over in Southside, it had spread through the disgruntled masses like a blazing bushfire, and the title he'd so ironically given himself was now fondly recited by tens of thousands who saw him as an unlikely hero.

  Merk the Mighty, it appeared, was now considered a champion. His fortuitous and only mildly brave exploits in the arena were being lauded to a level that Merk knew he didn't warrant.

  If anything, it was the wonderful red-head called Kira who merited the praise. Though, it appeared that the last few days had seen her stock soar as well.

  And far more deservedly.

  Merk's room was simple and well appointed with sufficient distractions to keep him busy. He didn't tend to venture beyond it too often, only usually leaving to use the bathroom or stretch his legs a little as he wandered around the upper floors of the villa. He'd spent his time reading when in his room, and sometimes speaking with the servants when out of it. He'd found Master Domitian's prime attendant, Claudius, to be a tough nut to crack, a very smart and rather serious man whose face rarely displayed much emotion.

  Another, Silia, was a different matter entirely. Merk found the young servant-girl to be a delight, and couldn't deny that she reminded him a little of his daughter. It wasn't her appearance so much as her energy and smile. Merk's beautiful girl had been bestowed with a spirit that was so pure, so innocent. Silia appeared the same, her soft brown eyes so sympathetic and her laughter, when it came, like soothing music to Merk's ears.