Ironhold, Trial Twelve
CHAPTER ONE
I swing the short sword I hold, sending it whistling through the air as I move around my opponent.
He ducks, barely avoiding it in time, his own weapon lancing out towards my heart.
I twist aside, feeling how close the weapon is to me as I dodge, but getting that close means he can grab me, trying to overpower me.
I trip him, sending us both tumbling to the ground, and I’m the one who comes up on top with my blade pressed against his throat.
The only problem is that his weapon touches mine at the same moment.
“And so, we both die, Lyra,” Alaric says, beneath me.
I sigh and let him up. Alaric looks like himself for once, because we're within the grounds of Senator Marcus Larius' villa, where no one will observe him and call the guards to arrest the leader of the resistance.
He's slender and sharp-featured, so handsome it's almost painful, with deep, dark eyes and jet black hair that falls to his shoulders.
He's dressed in dark clothes that might be anything from those of a trainer to a minor noble, making it easier to disguise himself.
What do I look like to him, with my blonde hair tangled from the fight, my blue eyes squinting against the glare of the sun?
I’m wearing the armor of a gladiator, which shows off much more of my flesh than Alaric’s outfit, the better to entertain any watching crowd as I fight.
Not that there is one for this training bout.
My body is lithe and athletic, probably in the best shape it’s ever been in.
I’m fighting better than I’ve ever fought, too, and still, Alaric isn’t satisfied.
“You can’t close the distance against an opponent so quickly,” Alaric says. “Your advantages are speed and agility. You fight better on the outside.”
“And that’s what I’d do, if I had my trident and net,” I point out. Those are the weapons I’m skilled in using, and which I’ll take with me to the games in the colosseum. There’s no reason for me to start using a sword now.
Alaric shrugs. “You need to be ready for anything, Lyra. They might force you to fight with unfamiliar weapons. They might create a scenario where you have to fight with whatever weapons you can grab. You don’t know what Selene will come up with.”
Somehow, I doubt Selene Ravenscroft, the former arch-magistrate of Aetheria and would be empress, will put me in such an impossible situation. She wants me to fight well, to show that magic is the key to succeeding in the games and the city. Her followers, though… they might try anything.
“Is she ready?” Marcus asks, walking up to the training area.
He’s tall and broad shouldered, his golden hair framing square jawed features with piercing blue eyes.
He’s more muscular than either myself or Alaric, despite being the only one of the three of us without a circular gladiator’s brand on his left shoulder, crossed by five stripes to denote five seasons of the games survived to earn freedom.
Marcus is a merchant and a senator; his fights are with words and money.
Appropriately, he’s dressed in his senatorial toga today, the pure white of the garment denoting his place on Aetheria’s ruling body. Marcus wears a pendant in the shape of a ship, too, in a reminder of his merchant family and the fleet of ships at his disposal.
“I’m fine,” I say, but Marcus is looking past me, to Alaric.
He shrugs. “We’ve done as much as we can here with the games in full flow. We can’t risk an injury.”
“I’m right here, you know,” I point out. A part of me longs for the days when Alaric and Marcus were constantly at one another’s throats, rather than working together to push me harder than ever, trying to make sure I’m ready for each round of the games.
Not just the games: Selene’s Grand Tournament, which she’s using to showcase her own skills and show the world that magic counts for more than anything in Aetheria. As the city’s most powerful magic user, she plans to use that as the basis for taking power in the city as soon as she wins.
If she wins, I plan on doing everything I can to make sure Selene doesn't get what she wants from the games.
“I know,” Marcus replies, “but I also know that you’ll proclaim yourself ready to face any threat. Alaric will provide a more objective opinion.”
It’s probably the only time Marcus has ever called Alaric objective.
The two of them see the city in very different ways.
Marcus sees the value in the existing order, complete with layers of corruption, he can manipulate masterfully with his wealth and political power.
Alaric is the leader of the resistance, trying to tear down that side of Aetheria.
“We need to go,” Marcus says. “The games will be opening for the day soon.”
I nod, wiping a sheen of sweat from my brow. I’m as ready as I can be for this next round of the Grand Tournament. I just have to hope it will be enough.
We set off through the streets together, walking, rather than taking a palanquin.
As soon as we leave the villa, Alaric's features shift using the illusion magic that's his gift, making him look just different enough that no one would suspect it's him.
I walk by Marcus' side, but I'm careful to stay a pace behind him.
Nominally, I'm still in his custody, still subject to his every command after I was caught breaking into Aetheria's deepest and most dangerous prison.
That I was tricked into doing so counted for nothing.
I was declared a traitor and imprisoned.
Selene arranged for a vote in the senate to free me from house arrest in Marcus' home, as a way of thanking him for his support.
She made me all but his slave, not knowing Marcus has been working against her all along.
There are crowds lining the streets as we walk, taking in the spectacle of a senator and a famous gladiator heading to the games.
As befits a city as awash in magic as Aetheria, there are illusions in the streets, depicting moments from the last round of bouts, including both my bout against the plant magic wielder Lorelei and Selene’s swift victory over a null with no magic.
That round is just the first of what could be a long bracket, when there are dozens of gladiators in the games, there to fight over a couple of weeks in the greatest tournament Aetheria has seen.
Jugglers entertain the crowds, and pickpockets take what they can from the unwary.
I am wary, so I use my own magic, reaching out with the powers of a beast whisperer to connect with the mind of a bird flying above us.
I use its eyes to look down, making sure we aren’t about to be targeted by assassins or those who would try to sabotage my chances in the games.
Selene has told me that she wants to fight me fairly, believing herself far stronger, but her followers seem to want to stack the deck in her favor by giving her easy bouts and harming me when they can.
For now, at least, I see no danger. I don’t sense any threats in the emotions of the crowd either. That’s another of my gifts: to feel and manipulate the animal instincts of those around me. It should be enough to sense the violence of a killer if one gets close.
“I won’t be able to stay beside you for the whole time you’re in the colosseum,” Alaric says.
“I’ll be able to slip in and out as a trainer, but I need to keep coordinating with the others in the resistance.
Selene’s people are increasing their efforts in the city, sending out the gangs to do her bidding, trying to get more and more people to fall in line. ”
“I will need to deal with some political aspects too,” Marcus says. “Selene has to have every political element in place in order to claim power. If I can work to disrupt some of those plans, we may be able to stop her even outside of the colosseum.”
Each of them is preparing to do his part.
Each is getting ready to fight Selene's plans in his own way.
Marcus will wield political influence and money to peel supporters from her.
Alaric will use the resistance against her plans in the slums and with the gangs.
I hope they'll be able to make a difference, but somehow, I know this will come down to the colosseum and the violence there.
The colosseum is the heart of Aetheria, both figuratively and literally.
It stands in the very center of the city, rising up over the white marble of the buildings around it in a vast circle of stone, adorned with banners and statues.
Even the former emperor's palace, which is now the seat of the senate, doesn't occupy such a prominent position within the city.
It’s also Aetheria’s heart in a less physical sense.
It represents what used to be the twin virtues of the empire: martial might and magical power.
Selene wants to emphasize at least the second of those virtues, seeking to rebuild the empire on the basis of those with the strongest magic ruling.
For that to happen, she’ll need to show her power in the games, and it’s in the games I intend to beat her.
I must admit that, even though I have every reason to hate the games, the atmosphere around the colosseum is spectacular.
A huge crowd of people is making its way down the broad boulevard leading to the colosseum’s gates, lined with hawkers and entertainers, the air filled with the scents of food and the raucous sound of music.
They part to let us through, either because of Marcus’ authority as a senator or because they see me, one of the competitors, approaching. Even the guards on the gates step back without challenging us, letting us through, into the vast stadium’s interior.
There are plenty of people already milling around there, trying to get to the betting booths that offer odds on the coming matches, or on who will win the whole tournament.
Selene remains the favorite for that, but my own odds have shortened considerably now people are aware I’m no longer constrained by a magical dampener, designed to limit my magic.
I’m careful to keep playing the part of Marcus’ obedient servant, the slave Selene and her followers believe they’ve made me into in all but name.
Still, I glance up at the betting boards, trying to get a sense of who I’ll face today.
I see the name Jor and wince. He’s a huge, hulking barbarian from the mountains to the north, filled with wild magic and with a sense of brutality that stalks his every step.
He’s a dangerous opponent indeed, and a good matchup for me.
I realize most of the other matches have been just as carefully arranged.
Selene’s path through the tournament seems clear, although I doubt her followers will give her quite the mismatch she faced in her first round.
The other bouts seem to pit fighters from different factions of the city against each other, and I suspect that’s deliberate.
Selene wants to show the world in her terms, demonstrating on the sands of the arena that magic counts for more than anything else, and that the old order is ready to be rebuilt in new ways.
The Grand Tournament is a story Selene is shaping for the benefit of the crowd.
Even my own first bout, against Lorelei of Arboria, played into the story she’s trying to tell here.
She used me to show our nearest neighbors that Aetheria is stronger than them, wrapping me up in her plot effortlessly.
Every time I fight here, I advance the vision of the world she’s trying to push.
But I can’t stop. I need to be here to have a chance of stopping Selene. All I can do is fight and put forward my own argument about what’s right. I just hope it will be enough.
“Come on,” Marcus says. “The games will begin soon, and I’ve been asked to bring you to the senate box for the first bouts.”
I wince, but I can’t say no. Nor can Marcus. As one of the organizers of the games, he’s expected to be in the senate’s box looking over the arena. And if Selene wants me by his side, well... that’s where I must be.