CHAPTER TWENTY ONE LYRA
I can feel the capital buzzing with excitement as the morning of the games arrives. People start to flow into the arena in the early hours, getting ready to play their part in putting on the spectacle to follow.
“Have you been here all night?” Marcus asks as he arrives. He looks worried about me.
“I couldn't sleep,” I say. “I know you were trying to distract me from being here but-”
“Last night wasn't just about distracting you,” Marcus insists, moving close to me. He tilts my head back, and his lips capture mine. “I hope you don't think it was a mistake. When you weren't there when I woke up, I was worried I'd done something to drive you away.”
I shake my head. “You didn't. I just needed to make sure everything would be perfect one more time.”
“Everything's under control,” Marcus says.
“Whose control, though?” I reply. That makes Marcus frown.
“What do you mean?”
“Someone replaced the weapons for the fighters with sharpened ones,” I say. “Lethal ones. I had to swap them back for blunted examples.”
I see the surprise on Marcus’ face, and I'm grateful for that because it means he didn't have anything to do with this.
Did I think he might have? I've spent time around him.
I know he's a good man who's trying to do what he thinks is the right thing for the city.
Did I really think he would risk the lives of the gladiators?
“I hope you don't think I had anything to do with that,” Marcus says. It’s uncomfortably close to my thoughts. “I was with you after we left the armory.”
“No, I don't think it was you,” I reply, pushing back my doubts for a moment. “But it was someone with access to the colosseum, and there were guards on the doors last night.”
“Meaning that whoever did it was either stealthy enough to find another way in without being spotted, or they were someone who guards would obey,” Marcus says.
He sounds worried, but only briefly. “But it sounds like you dealt with the problem.
This person thinks they've succeeded, so they won't try again.”
“I'm not so sure about that,” I say. “Someone prepared to try this will try other things as well. The question is, who it could be. Who has this kind of access, but also wants the games to be lethal so much?”
Marcus hesitates.
“What is it?” I ask him.
“There's one obvious name. Think about it. Who’s been asking for the return of the games in their most deadly form? Who's been pushing for more than I would contemplate?”
He's right, the answer is obvious.
“Domitian.”
Marcus nods. “But he's a senator. Without proof, we can't even think of accusing him.”
I don't like the idea that we must hold back like that, but I nod my agreement.
“And in any case, there's no time to deal with him now,” Marcus says. “We need to focus on putting on the best version of the games we can. I need to check that the guards are in the correct places and that the preparation areas are safe. I'll check the weapons again just in case, too.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I'll try to go through everything else I can think of.”
I’m nervous, and it has to do with more than just my lack of sleep.
I'm starting to see all the ways the games could go wrong.
There could be violence in the crowds, a riot like the one that broke out beyond the city walls.
There could be attempts to poison the gladiators.
There could be manipulations among the nobles and the senators.
The games are a huge thing, with many interlocking parts, providing feasting and entertainment, opportunities for wagering, and, of course, the fights.
Everything must go smoothly, and above all, safely.
So I start to make my way through the Colosseum, checking everything once again.
I make sure that the servants are in the right places, that the healers are ready and waiting to deal with any injuries.
That the merchants and the bookmakers are sticking to their assigned spots and not bringing gang members with them for security.
I wish I could head down to the beast pits, but those are empty at the moment.
There's no way to blunt the claws of a lion or the teeth of a giant snake.
Even as a beast whisperer, I don't think I could guarantee the safety of a fight involving such creatures.
So, for now, my favorite part of the arena is dead and still.
The first of the crowd are starting to come in, and I watch them, the excitement on their faces. Is that excitement because they are anticipating a spectacle of skill and excellence? Or is it because they want to see blood? I can't shake my misgivings about the event I've helped to put on.
I head up to the receiving rooms, seeing that many of the most important people in the city have already arrived.
It's clear they want to see and be seen here, the way they did in the old games.
They want the respect that comes from being seen at the favorite entertainment of the people.
They want to be surrounded by servants who will obey their every whim.
They want to be associated with the gladiators, or at least with the resurgence of the games.
Several senators are there, even ones who voted against the proposal.
I don't see Rowan, though. It seems he wants to stay away from these games, not interested in any reflected glory from them. My guess is that the colosseum holds far too many bad memories for him. It means that Marcus will be in full control of these games, and maybe that’s a good thing.
Marcus worked hard to bring the renewed fights back, while Rowan stood against them.
It would be wrong in some ways for Rowan to stand in the old emperor’s box and get the glory.
Thoughts of the emperor's box make me head up there, wanting to see the space where Emperor Tiberius stood in cruel control of the games and his empire, a space where he commanded me to watch the deaths of others, and had me kneel so he could remind me that I was no more than his slave.
My heart beats faster as I return to it. There are a couple of city guards on the doors, but they step back to let me enter without a word.
Inside I'm surprised to see Domitian Blacksteel, dressed in his senator’s toga, looking out over the sands beyond with an expression of satisfaction.
“What are you doing up here?” I ask him.
“Why wouldn't I be here?” he counters. “We no longer have an emperor, so this box has been made available to any of the senate who wish to use it.
It seems like the best spot from which to watch people coming in.
Did you know I've arranged processions through the streets?
Obviously we're not bringing gladiators down from Ironhold this time, but I thought we could still have an echo of that with tumblers and acrobats, dancers and actors. It will connect these games to the past.”
“We’re trying to get away from the past,” I say.
“Well, I'm sure you enjoyed the processions, Lyra.”
I can't deny that the processions from the fortress of Ironhold down to the city were sometimes the only joyous part of the games for me.
They were a moment when we were surrounded by the people of the city, when they called out their love for us or booed the gladiators they disliked.
Some gladiators, like Alaric, would play up to the crowds, blowing kisses and catching roses from the air.
Others, like Rowan, would walk in stony silence.
“Is that all you've been arranging?” I ask Domitian. I know Marcus says I can't accuse him publicly without proof but it's just the two of us here.
“What do you mean by that?” Domitian replies.
“I mean that someone tried to tamper with my safety measures for these games,” I say. “Someone tried to introduce lethally sharpened weapons, rather than the blunt ones the gladiators were due to fight with.”
“And do you think I had something to do with that?” Domitian counters, spreading his hands in a gesture of innocence.
“I think you've been involved in plenty of things,” I say. “Do you know I was attacked? They were men hired by someone who knew the pit fights.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Domitian says. “Sadly, you have made many enemies. Senator Yarrow doesn't like that you represent some of the people of the slums. She sees it as interfering in her business interests. And I believe Senator Olivia is a little jealous of the attention you've been getting.”
“And what about you, Domitian?” I ask. “Wouldn't you have seen me as an obstacle to getting the games back?”
Domitian gestures to the arena. “From what I can see you've given me those games, Lyra.”
“But not the way you want,” I insist. “Not the old games, not with fights to the death. Is that why you had the weapons switched?”
He laughs. “I think you think too much of me. You imagine that I'm this unseen hand behind everything. And you're accusing me of something you have no proof of. I hope you won't do that out in public, Senator Lyra. We senate members must be seen to support one another.”
I grit my teeth. As he says, I can’t prove anything, and it's obvious he doesn't plan to admit to it.
“I think you'd be surprised by how many people might want the games as they were,” Domitian says.
“That's not going to happen,” I say.
He smiles. “Isn't it? I find that in general the people get what they want, one way or another. They are the tide and we must flow with them. Now if you'll excuse me…”
He steps past me, pausing at the door.
“I really do thank you for helping to bring this back, Lyra. You were a great gladiator, but this is an achievement that matters. You should be proud of it.”
I'm not proud, though. Instead, as he walks away, I can't help feeling that I've made a terrible mistake. I’ve allowed myself to be manipulated into putting the games back on, and now Domitian is slowly changing them into exactly what he wants.