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

  She looked back to Rufus.

  "Fight's over," she whispered.

  He smiled.

  "I know."

  The sand was no longer golden. Nor was it neatly arranged as it had been before. It was now a mess, the furious trails left by Oom's totemic frame and oddly blistering speed littering the battlefield along with the dead.

  The hunters of the Banuk lay ruined and destroyed, each in a pool of blood. Some had been cut in half by the giant's largest axe. Other had been crushed by his huge paws. Each had suffered an awful end for the pleasure of the baying crowd. And the smile on Vesper's face was the most terrible sight of all.

  The fight had lasted as long as Dom thought it would. Within minutes it was over, barely long enough for him to pour and drink another goblet of wine. All over the arena, the dust that had accumulated from Oom's pounding feet now began to settle. The giant stepped towards the royal balcony, as expected, and was announced the winner by Lord Pontius.

  Dom should have felt good about it, but he didn't. This sort of bout was the type he didn't enjoy. It was a slaughter and nothing more, and involved the needless deaths of ten men, rather than one or two.

  The Banuk tribe weren't large. Suffering the loss of ten of their number could have knock on effects for the rest. Fewer hunters to find food in a large, desolate landscape. Fewer men to protect the people when the likes of Dom came calling.

  He took another gulp of wine and suppressed the thought within his mind. His powers were most useful at a time like this. He could arrange his thoughts well, and when he felt as guilty as he did right now, he could quite easily quell the emotion and trap it away somewhere.

  For the next few minutes, as Oom marched back off to the cells, the battlefield was quickly cleared of the dead. Dom stood and stretched his legs, and found himself suffering a barrage of congratulations from the dignitaries around him.

  "Bravo, Prince Domitian," they said. "This giant of yours is magnificent."

  "Yes, a gifted killer. He'll go far this year I'm sure."

  Dom nodded and smiled and did what he needed to. Then he found Lucius approaching, and wished to return immediately to his seat.

  "He's quicker than I thought," said Lucius. "Big old brute like that shouldn't be able to move so fast. It's not right," he laughed.

  Dom shrugged, his countenance weary. Lucius gave him a hefty pat on the back.

  "Cheer up, old friend," he said. "What's up, you lost your taste for such things? I must admit, it was a bloody affair that one. Bodies hewn in two. Skulls crushed. Not one for the faint-hearted, right brother?"

  "No, not at all," murmured Dom.

  He began moving back to his seat. Lucius' hand, gripped to his shoulder, stopped him.

  "You feeling all right there?" he queried, feigning concern. "You're looking tired, Dom. Perhaps you should take a rest. I mean, the upcoming bouts are foregone conclusions. All of them. You don't need to be here."

  Dom stiffened. His full height returned, a little taller than Lucius, and slightly more broad in the shoulder.

  "You think the last bout is a foregone conclusion do you?" he seethed.

  "Pfft, Redmane against your Kira girl? Of course. Shame, really. I do want some alone time with the girl, but the games come first. If she has to die, so be it."

  Dom's glare continued to intensify.

  "Anyway," went on Lucius. "Tomahawk's about to fight. Best be off."

  He bounded away before Dom could react, retaking his seat as his father set about his duties as announcer. It seemed as though Vesper had allowed him to continue after the initial fight.

  Dom hovered for a moment, before slinking away into the shade at the back of the balcony, leaving his seat unattended. His stomach felt knotted, his chest tight. There was a pressing feeling of stress within him that he could no longer ignore.

  He needed air, and needed it now.

  Marching off through the threshold, he ventured quickly towards the outer wall of the arena, seeking one of the large stone windows that looked out over the city. The air was clearer here, not stuffy as it was on the inside. He reached the opening and sucked in a long gulp, and his eyes swayed quickly down towards the huge throng of people surrounding the stadium.

  There were hundreds of them, thousands. Those who couldn't get tickets tended to gather here to watch, viewing on the gigantic screens affixed to the outside of the stadium. The chatter was endless, the excitement brewing. A roar rang out below him, and behind him, as Tomahawk was announced, set to fight against another group of unfancied men.

  Another slaughter was about to ensue, and it wouldn't be the last of the day. Dom looked upon the people, and wondered just what sort of city this was becoming. It seemed that, as his mother's bloodlust grew, year on year, as did that of the people. As though all those closest to her, those right here at the centre of the city, were influenced by her supreme powers, her ability to manipulate minds.

  He drew more fresh air, and looked further out across the city. Vesper's pull only went so far, and across the Tiber, over in Southside, the dissidents were starting to multiply. Dom knew it, and he liked it.

  One way or another, the time bomb that this city had become was about to explode.

  7

  "OK then, wakey wakey, it's time to do some killing."

  Rufus' manner of speaking to Shadow was quite amusing to Kira. The instructor clearly didn't have much liking for him, that was obvious enough. But speaking to him like a child was particularly comical.

  The ice cold eyes of the man opened slowly.

  "Ah, there he is," said Rufus, standing tall above him. "Your fight's coming up. Step towards the gate and await your summons."

  Shadow unfurled his arms like a bat opening its wings, and rose slowly to his feet. He didn't blink like you'd expect a man to who'd been suddenly awoken from his sleep. In fact, he didn't seem to blink at all, his stoney expression unchanged as he ventured towards his position by the gate.

  Rufus raised his eyes at Kira, drawing a grin. And a moment later, the gate was being opened up and two soldiers were coming to escort Shadow to the sand.

  Kira's heart decided to run a little quicker for a few beats. Oom had now returned after his bout, seemingly unscathed, and was draped heavily along the opposite bench. His fight hadn't lasted long, and nor had the next involving Tomahawk. In fact, most of the time today seemed to have been spent clearing the sand of the dead, rather than on battle itself.

  Now, there was only Shadow, followed by Jaeger, before Kira was set to close out the day. Each new bout brought the pace of her pulse up a notch. She sucked in a long breath as Shadow moved sleekly off and out of sight.

  Please take your time, she thought, knowing that he wouldn't.

  Rufus came and sat down beside her again.

  "It's nicer without him around, isn't it?" he said.

  Kira smiled. She couldn't deny it.

  "So how are you feeling?"

  She gulped a portion of stale, dusty air.

  "Fine," she said nervously.

  Rufus smiled and let a veiny hand fall upon her shoulder. Despite their heated debate earlier, Kira was happy for his company.

  "You'll be fine. Follow the plan, and you'll have a good chance. Redmane is large and strong, but not as fast as you. Just try to stay out of arm's reach. And...if the rumours are true, touching his bare skin isn't the best idea."

  Kira shook her head in disbelief at what she'd been told the previous night. Hailing from the Nordic icelands to the far north, Redmane could apparently freeze flesh with his touch alone. It hardly seemed believable, and yet the things Kira had witnessed recently didn't allow her to doubt it.

  "Well, I'm fully covered everywhere except my hands and face," she said. "And if he can get that close to me, then touching me with his fingers is the least of my worries. I'm sure he'll favour some sort of barbaric blade or axe."

  Rufus nodded.

  "Most certainly. But it's worth bearing in mind anyway. Rememb
er, he's from a far colder part of the world, so make him move and try to tire him out. These conditions will suit you far better than him. He's a very big man and his energy reserves shouldn't be as deep as yours. Stay clear of him until you get a chance to strike."

  "Right...so me expending energy earlier wasn't such a good idea?"

  "I did try to warn you," smiled Rufus wryly.

  As they spoke, the bout above seemed to begin, and across the way, Oom stirred. Lifting his hulking frame from the bench, his eyes turned around the room.

  "Shadow fighting now?" boomed his voice.

  Both Kira and Rufus nodded.

  Oom grunted and looked to the locked bars.

  "I want to watch. Want to see him fight."

  "I'm afraid you can't," said Rufus. "Gladiators must stay in their cells before and after their bouts.

  "What about you," said the giant, looking at Kira. "You can hear what's happening. You can see."

  Kira nodded.

  "Sort of."

  "It's...amazing. Your abilities," he nodded. "They're good."

  Kira smiled.

  "Thanks, Oom," she said. "I think yours are better suited to this place."

  "Oom enjoys the fight, yes," he said. "But only if Oom needs to. He wishes to go home. He will kill to go home."

  Kira watched the giant's eyes turn melancholic for a moment. He was a primitive man, but shared the same desire as her. The simple wish to return home, to go back to the lands where he belonged. It was a powerful motivator that would see him do what he must, as it would her. And looking at him, she felt some kinship. He wasn't any enemy of hers, not really. He was a piece in a game, and so was she.

  And the game was evil.

  Shadow's bout was perhaps the briefest of all. The crowd watched him fight with barely a chance to draw a breath. His contest was against four low ranked gladiators. Each had some minor enhancements that would have made them competitive against most others.

  Not Shadow.

  Setting his doubts and moral introspection to one side, Dom watched his main man while sparing an eye for Lucius. The manner in which Shadow executed his four opponents set a slight look of trepidation to his rival's face. That he enjoyed, though he knew it wouldn't last. It didn't. As soon as Dom's number one seed was replaced by Lucius', it was Dom's eyes that showed concern.

  Jaeger marched out onto the sand not long after Shadow had departed. His armour was of a dark grey, fairly simple and without the usual embellishments Lucius would afford his men. In fact, he seemed to be rather exposed if anything, which immediately gave Dom cause for concern.

  He moved towards the centre of the sand without taking his eyes off the gallery above. They stayed squarely on Empress Vesper and didn't deviate. A man of regular proportions and rather unassuming to look at, even the crowd didn't seem to know quite what to make of him.

  They fell silent in anticipation. The chatter of excitement following Shadow's showing was replaced by a desire to see what the new man would bring. Once more, Lord Pontius announced him. Upon standing from his perch, Jaeger turned his eyes mechanically towards him and away from Empress Vesper. He was intimately aware of how to behave, observing all the official customs as if he'd grown up reciting them.

  In truth, he had. Jaeger wasn't a man stolen from his home. He wasn't brought to this alien place against his will, forced to do the bidding of some foreign ruler. He did all that by choice, and grew up knowing that this was exactly where he wanted to be.

  He'd worked towards this moment all his life. He'd trained for it since he was young. He knew every custom and every practice. He could tell you the names of each champion to have graced the sand, and each opponent they killed to reach its summit. He could list the wide array of wondrous powers that the various combatants had brought to bear over the years. He had learnt from the best in order to beat, and be, the best. And right here, right now, was his time.

  The crowd were immediately enthralled by him. These types of men were uncommon, if not unheard of. Sometimes men would choose to come here for glory, or to die upon the sand a hero. Others would truly believe they had a chance, wishing to gain riches and great fame from their victories. Most would quickly realise they were out of their depth, and the pursuit of material wealth would always end in failure.

  But Jaeger wasn't here for himself. He was here for the Empress. His wish since he was young was to claim victory for her, to stand by her side as one of her champions. He looked at Ares as a totem of loyalty and service, and wished to emulate the great man. He had set himself no other task in life than winning the warrior race. And when he'd completed that task, he'd set himself to the service of the Empress for the remainder of his days.

  Dom knew this, and his mother did too. She smiled upon seeing him march forward without taking his eyes off her. As Pontius introduced him, and Jaeger's eyes switched over, Vesper drew Ares forward to receive some insight on the man.

  Dom listened carefully as Ares spoke.

  "He is favourite, Empress Vesper," Ares said. "Of that there can be no doubt."

  "Truly? But what of this Shadow we just witnessed? He was quite impressive."

  "Another possible champion," said Ares. "But my instincts are with Jaeger. His life has been geared towards this moment. He wishes to serve you, my Empress."

  "Well, then I favour him," smiled Vesper. "This Shadow is a Stalker from Haven. He wishes only to return home to his master, no doubt."

  "Yes, that is true. He has a single focus to serve. But not you, I'm afraid."

  "Hmmmm, Director Cromwell," murmured Vesper. "I hear he has many of these Stalkers there."

  "An entire force of them," Ares nodded. "He uses special reconditioning techniques to guarantee their loyalty and service. He doesn't inspire it like you do, Empress Vesper. We serve for the greatness of Neorome, and for you and your legacy."

  Vesper smiled.

  "Thank you, Ares. I couldn't hope for a more loyal guard than you."

  Ares bowed and stood again to his full height. Dom flicked his eyes away before he was seen to be listening.

  Upon the sand, Jaeger's opponents now came. In order to maintain an illusion of parity, he had the same task as Shadow; four lowly gladiators to send to their graves. He stood in the centre as they surrounded him, and held his gaze on Vesper once more. And unlike Shadow, who wished to despatch his foes as efficiently as possible, Jaeger appeared more inclined to put on a show. He knew the crowd, and he knew the Empress. He gave them exactly what they wanted.

  Showcasing certain elements of his considerable repertoire, he moved about the arena, toying with his opponents like a cat with a box of mice. He let them swing. He let them surround him. Enclosed between the four, all blades thrust and stabbed at him at once. He danced away, barely visible to most eyes. For those who blinked at the wrong time, he appeared to materialise beyond the circle, leading to roars of laughter as the crowd saw the four gladiators gaze about in search of him.

  He played the game well until he knew the time was right. And when he decided to end things, he did so with a ferocity to set an awed silence to the air. All attendees were muted by his pace, by the sight of four men falling simultaneously to the ground. From one to the next he went, each unable to see him coming. Then he seemed to appear again, just where he started, standing right in the middle of the arena, looking upon the royal gallery, as his foes fell as one to the floor.

  The hushed silence was even more extreme than that which greeted Shadow's victory. Then the roars and the applause came, and even Vesper seemed to forget herself, rising to her feet and clapping wildly.

  Dom knew, then, that she had her favourite. This wasn't a man who would win the games and take his free ticket home. He wouldn't do as most would, and leave these lands, never to return. He would instead become another asset for Vesper to employ, and a powerful one at that. Few people would dare stand up to her with her Imperial Guard so formidable. Led by Ares, unbeatable in battle, they were her trump card in a ci
ty losing patience. And right here, showing off his supreme powers to all, Jaeger was set to add himself to her armoury.

  And watching him, Dom knew that this was about more than finding a champion among his stock. Somehow, the fate of Neorome was becoming entwined with the games.

  And this gladiator called Jaeger could not be allowed to win.

  8

  Kira watched Shadow re-enter the cells. Barely a minute seemed to have passed since he left.

  Oom stiffened on his bench, eyeing the Stalker quietly. Rufus, who'd continued to offer Kira advice on how to defeat Redmane, went silent for a moment too. All three surveyed the black-cloaked man as he glided efficiently back to the rear.

  His icy eyes took in Kira only momentarily, before being directed straight ahead. He re-took the position he'd occupied all day at the back, shutting his eyes and coiling his limbs beneath his robes. Kira knew his kind to be hugely capable of regulating their body temperature. He'd grown quickly proficient at handling the heat.

  Kira wasn't quite the same. Stuck within her armour and robes, she'd been sweating for hours. As the cell went still once more, she listened to the sound of crunching feet above, seeking out those specific notes over the general din. She found them, and knew that the sands were being cleared once more, preparing for Lucius' first seed to begin his inaugural bout.

  The shuffling of feet over the grains didn't last long. Not long enough for her at least. Then came the inevitable announcement, followed by the arrival of Jaeger and his foes. Kira listened closely and counted four. Then her focus was interrupted by Rufus.

  "You're wasting energy again," he said, bringing her back into the room. "It'll do you no good listening to what's happening above. Keep calm, Kira. Don't think too much."