CHAPTER SIXTEEN KAI
“Kai, Kai, Kai!”
I don't think I'll ever get used to people chanting my name, particularly not the small horde of them who are currently crammed into the old warehouse, the fights have moved to, perching on every available surface to get a good view of the fights.
It’s in a spot in the slums that seems to serve as neutral ground between the gangs.
At least, half a dozen of them seem to be working together to provide security for these fights, turning away anyone who might be with the city guard, making sure everyone pays their debts, keeping people back from the ring who don't belong there.
And, of course, bringing their shady businesses along with them.
Cut purses work the crowd, but only the ones authorized by the gangs.
Bookmakers call out odds on the fights. Pretty young women and handsome young men entice those with the coins to pay for their services, while wine and stronger substances flow freely.
Mostly, the crowd is just an undifferentiated scrum of people, but here and there, important people have staked out spots by having hired muscle keep people back. One has brought an ornate couch with him and is currently being fed grapes while he sips wine.
“Kai! We love you!”
I make my way through the crowd, and they part to let me through, even before the gang members push them out of the way.
It's strange having this much attention on me but also wondrous.
So many times, I've wondered what it was like for the gladiators in the colosseum, and it isn't just the moment of victory I've wondered about. It’s everything else.
The glory of being chosen by noble patrons.
The grand processions down from Ironhold every morning.
I was permitted to stand at the side of the road and watch one of those processions once.
It felt electric even as a bystander. To have all those people screaming your name…
even this must be just a fraction of what it felt like for the gladiators.
I pull my thoughts back to the task at hand as I approach the ring. It’s marked by barrels set in a rough circle, with sawdust in between to absorb any blood. It's already stained red in several places from previous fights.
My opponent is waiting for me. He's only a couple years older than I am, lean and quick, practically dancing along the tops of the barrels. An announcer, a heavily built woman in her forties, steps into the ring, her voice echoing out through the warehouse.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we've had plenty of fights today but probably none like this! Are you ready for our last bout?”
The crowd roars its approval. Of course it does.
I’ve seen the way announcers like this can work the crowd.
This one doesn't have the magic to project her voice but I can feel a trace of psychomancy at work as she speaks.
It's not enough to control the minds of the crowd but it can help push their emotions to new heights.
“In this corner,” she says, gesturing to the young man running back and forth along the barrels, “we have the paragon of speed, the master of the quick kill, Quintus!”
The crowd cries out their approval, and Quintus takes a bow before front-flipping into the fighting pit.
“And in this corner,” the announcer says, “you know him, you love him… it’s Kai!”
I step into the ring while the crowd chants for me.
Quintus doesn't look happy about it as he waits at his side of the ring.
His magic gives him an edge in speed, making him move faster than it seems he should be able to.
From what I hear, he was a slave messenger for a noble house before the rebellion freed him and he worked out that he could put his talents to use in the ring.
I face off against him, stripping off my tunic, my oiled muscles matching his. He flashes me an arrogant smile. I ignore it.
“Both of these two young men are rising stars in the fighting pits of this city,” the announcer says. “But which of them will be victorious today? Who will prove he's the better fighter? Let's find out!”
She hurries from the ring, while around me I can hear people calling out encouragement, and shouting odds to one another.
“Three to one on Kai!”
“Evens on Quintus!”
It seems I'm meant to be the underdog here. I guess the bookmakers think that Quintus will be too fast for me. I'm determined to prove them wrong.
“Begin!” the announcer shouts once she's safely out of the ring. I move forward, hands raised, waiting to see what my opponent will do.
He's on me in a flash, lashing out with punches and kicks faster than I can follow. I cover up, spreading a surface of magical force over the areas he's targeting. I can't cover my whole body with magic, but I can use it to limit the impact of his blows.
Even like that, I must grit my teeth to ignore the pain of being struck again and again. Quintus dances around me, picking me off with shots I don't see coming.
“You thought you could fight me?” he demands, taunting me as he continues to pepper me with blows. “You thought you could keep up with me? No one's as fast as I am.”
“No one talks as much as you either,” I snap back.
It brings a fresh barrage of strikes my way. I cover up absorbing them as best I can. The crowd is booing me and cheering for Quintus.
“Fight back!” someone yells.
I don't, though. I keep defending, keep shifting planes of force in front of his most dangerous strikes, using my arms and my shins to block the rest. I let him throw everything he has at me.
Gradually, Quintus starts to slow. It's almost imperceptible at first, given how fast he is, but I can see his breathing growing ragged. That's the opening I've been waiting for. I can't keep up with him, but I can outlast him.
I bull forward, shrugging off Quintus’ best attacks, moving in until I can grab him, one hand around the back of his neck, the other freed up so that I can cover it in magical force and use it like a hammer to slam into his ribs and stomach.
I work his body with my fist, and when he pulls back I throw a kick that slams into his solar plexus.
He should have dodged it but clearly he doesn't have the energy left.
I move in again, still attacking his body, slamming fists and feet and knees into it.
Quintus is gasping for breath now, looking as though he barely has the strength to stand.
He lunges at me, using what must be the last of his power, and it's fast enough that I barely get out the way in time.
I trip him, clipping him with a punch on the way down.
He groans and lies there, while around me people are yelling at him.
“Get up, Quintus!”
“Get up, I have a week’s wages on you!”
But he doesn't get up. He lies there, obviously not having the energy to rise. Finally, the announcer steps on to the barrels.
“Ladies and gentlemen we have our winner: Kai!”
The crowd roars, those who bet on me looking ecstatic, those who bet against looking rueful or angry.
I make my way from the ring, donning my tunic once again and going to collect my winnings.
As usual, I head to one of the bookmakers.
I didn’t get three to one, but the odds on me were still good enough.
There's someone else waiting by the bookmaker, someone I recognize from the meeting in the crypt, and from the colosseum. Domitian Blacksteel, senator of Aetheria, is standing openly in the middle of the crowd, apparently unconcerned about being seen attending this kind of underground fight.
He nods to me as I collect my bag of coins. “Betting on yourself. It's a sign of confidence.”
I shrug. It never occurs to me that I could do anything else.
“Do you know who I am, Kai?” he asks.
“You’re Domitian Blacksteel,” I say, keeping my tone respectful. This is an important man. “You're in the senate.”
“I am,” he says. “And I think I need to talk to you now. Walk with me.”
He puts an arm around my shoulders, guiding me through the crowd. They step aside to let us pass and I don't know if they do so because of me or him.
“I saw you at the meeting,” he says. “You were impressive.”
“It wasn't so hard to drop Glacius,” I reply.
“I'm not talking about Glacius,” he says. “Although he’s angry with you now. Angry enough to actually want to fight you, if you can believe it. I'm talking about the way you got the crowd on your side. You got their attention, the way you've been getting attention in the pits.”
I never thought I’d get compliments from a senator of the city. Especially not on my public speaking.
“And you were impressive here,” Domitian says. “Oh, I know people were booing you at first, but you know what I saw?”
“No,” I admit.
“I saw a thinking fighter, one who understood the weaknesses of his opponent and was prepared to capitalize. In the old days you would have done well in the colosseum.”
That compliment fills me with warmth.
“You’re too kind, my lord,” I say.
He snorts. “I'm no one's lord. Domitian is fine. But I am a man in a position of power. Power that I think I can use to your benefit if you're willing to help me, Kai.”
I frown. “Help you with what, Domitian?”
He smiles. “With all the things we were talking about in the meeting. The Senate is getting ready to vote on bringing back the games, having exhibition bouts to entertain the people. Obviously anybody involved would have to be willing, and I’m told the bouts would be made as safe as possible.”
He sounds as though he isn't entirely happy about that.
“What can I do?” I ask. Does he need something from me to help influence the decision?
“You can fight, Kai,” he says, turning me and holding me at arm’s length so that he can look me in the eyes.
“You're a good fighter, but more importantly, you hold the crowd in the palm of your hand. It's a combination that can be hard to find. Which is why I want you to be the face of these new exhibition bouts. We’ll push your name forward, get you good billing on the fight roster. You’ll be the one we push out to meet nobles and show them that these new games aren't just about the old brutes leftover from the last round of fights.
You'll be a symbol of the new way we're doing things.”
I try to imagine it. It seems like everything I've ever dreamed of. Domitian Blacksteel is giving me an opportunity to fight in the arena rather than in these pit fights. He's giving me an opportunity to gain fame and respect, maybe even fortune.
And all I have to do is meet a few nobles as well as fight? That's the kind of thing gladiators have always had to do, going through to the receiving rooms and giving the nobility of Aetheria a chance to be seen with those who most embody the city's twin virtues of martial might and magical power.
“So, what do you say, Kai?” Domitian asks. “Will you do it? Will you be the face of the new games?”
I don’t hesitate, even for a second. “There is nothing I want more.”