Cleo
CLEO
The ante-chamber is everything Retah said it would be. There is the faint smell of rotting meat covered by a strong antiseptic. The noise of the crowd outside in the dome is clearly audible and echoes around the large space.
It’s filled with numerous clerks, mostly Oykig and smaller, younger Habosu, all wearing the dull green tabards with gold piping denoting their status. They’re bullying and cajoling the gladiators into their armor. But I can’t see Maxym or Klynn anywhere, even as I crane my neck in an attempt to see every corner.
The weapons containers come to a halt and, for the ones which belong to the challengers, their clerks fall on the boxes, flinging them open to claim the weapons inside for their individual charges.
“Why are you here, little scrap?” Maxym says in my ear, his dark, sinful voice sending pulses where they really shouldn’t be going in this place.
“I’m to give out the weapons which were fitted,” I say as his hand snakes around my waist, cupping my stomach and sending a delicious shiver up my spine.
Maxym made no secret of how much he liked my pregnant body last night. And how he’s looking forward to me being even bigger.
“It’s too dangerous for you here,” he murmurs.
“It’s dangerous for me everywhere,” I respond. “But the captain has assured me once I’m done, I can watch the games from a secure pod until it’s time to retrieve the weapons.”
Behind me, I feel Maxym relax a little. “I will gather the weapons for you once we’re finished with them,” he says. “If it’s dangerous now, you cannot be in here when we’re done. Neither I nor Klynn will be safe to be around.”
I turn to face him, shoving my fingers into the soft down at the base of his wings and am rewarded by the slight buckle of his knees again.
“You sure about that?”
“I know if you touch Klynn the way you’re touching me, I will rip his wings off so he can never be touched again,” Maxym says evenly with a half smile and eyelids drooping.
“I’m never touching Klynn. I prefer my hand to remain attached to my body.” I chuckle. “And now I need to get these weapons out before there’s a revolt,” I say as I spot the Xnosson captain looking stressed on the other side of the busy chamber, making a beeline for us.
“Gladiator!” the captain bellows. “Get back from the weapons. You know the rules.”
Maxym raises his eyebrows at me. “I was never one for rules.”
He cups my cheek with his hand and kisses me oh-so-gently before he’s shouldered aside by the old bull into the waiting arms of a pair of guards, one of whom takes the opportunity to shove a stun stick into Maxym’s side.
“Hey!” I exclaim as he drops to a knee, clutching his abdomen.
Maxym grins, sticks out a wing, and swipes the guard off his feet, taking his stun stick and snapping it in half as if it were a toothpick. He glares at the captain for a beat.
“Go to your position, Maxym,” the Xnosson says, almost kindly. “I’ll take care of things here.”
My huge gladiator flicks his wings one over the other in a sawing motion before moving away. He weaves through the crowd until I see him sit on a stone bench where an Oykig clerk starts to fuss.
He gazes serenely at me as chaos goes on around him, the clerk fitting him with a life force indicator and various other pieces of armor.
“My dear, the weapons,” the old bull says gently.
Brought to my senses, I realize there is a gaggle of impatient looking clerks surrounding me. Swiftly, I activate the locking mechanism and begin doling out the weapons according to each clerk’s pronouncement, keeping one eye on Maxym’s clerk until he finally hurries over to collect the sword and dagger Maxym picked.
“Get back, gladiator,” I hear a guard growl.
“Klynn, you know the rules,” the captain says as the massive Gryn looms over us. “Your clerk is to collect your weapon.”
“My clerk is unwell.” Klynn sticks a thumb over his shoulder at the Habosu who is face down on the floor. “Give me my weapon.”
The captain looks at the scene and, unconcerned about the tableau, he puts his hands on his hips. “Go back to your position and a new clerk will be assigned,” he responds.
Behind him, Maxym now stands, looking at Klynn as if he hopes looks could kill.
“Do it,” he says. “Or die here.”
Klynn snorts, but he turns away and goes back to his seat.
“I didn’t need your assistance, Maxym,” the captain growls as my gladiator backs away.
“No,” Maxym says, glancing at me. “You didn’t.”
The captain follows his gaze and his shoulders drop. “I will see to it,” he says, and Maxym gives him a short bow, followed by a wink at me, before he returns to his seat.
A new clerk races in to collect Klynn's weapons, and two others drag their fallen comrade away. In his corner, Maxym shakes his head.
I get the impression this is a common occurrence.
“Come, my dear,” the captain says, once all the weapons have been distributed. “I have a secure position available for you, one where you can watch your weapons in action.”
My stomach squirms. He wants me to watch the games, and I had hoped I could stay here and not see anything, just live in hope Maxym returned.
“It is better to watch than to wait, believe me,” the bull whispers.
I stare at him in surprise as he nods encouragingly at me, his great horns bobbing. He knows about Maxym and me, I can tell in the smile on his face.
And neither of us are in trouble.
“Do it for him. He will fight all the better knowing you are safe,” the captain says with a brief glance at Maxym, who is preoccupied with having leg armor fitted.
In my heart, I know what the captain is saying is true. And I need to be sure Maxym can concentrate on putting our weapons to good use. I turn my gaze back to the captain.
“Where do I go?”