Page 32 of Ironhold, Trial Three

“Can't we go somewhere we might be able to watch the fight?” I suggest. “You’re going to miss Alaric fighting Malira.”

"Watch the most arrogant of all of us cut down by someone who looks half like a monster?" the dark-haired one says. "Hardly. I'm Bellus. This is Demos."

“What makes you think he'll lose?” I ask.

“All Alaric has is tricks,” Demos says. “When it comes down to it, Malira’s a real fighter. Pity she doesn't look so good anymore. Not like you. You're quite lovely, Lyra.”

"That's… kind of you to say," I say. From in here I can hear some of the sounds of the arena. I can hear the roaring of the crowd, and I've been in enough fights in the Colosseum to read those sounds. I know when blood has been spilled, and when there is a tense build up to the next clash. I know when one of thefighters has done something impressive. The fight is continuing, and it's frustrating not being able to see any of it.

Frustrating and frightening. Anything could be happening to Alaric out there, and Ravenna has ensured that I will not see it. I will only be able to imagine what's happening. Because instead I must spend my time with these two nobles.

“A drink,” Bellus says. “We should get you a drink.”

“I'm fine, thank you,” I reply, but he is already on his feet, going over to one of the servants and collecting a goblet of wine. He brings it over to me, passing it to me, practically pressing it into my hands.

“Here, drink.”

“I'm not sure I-”

“Drink,” Bellus commands, in a stern tone. “Or does that iron collar around your neck mean nothing?”

In one moment he has reminded me of the difference in our places. It isn't just that I fight in the colosseum and he does not. That would be the difference between him and someone like Ravenna. For the third time in the brief space since my bout with Rowan, I am being reminded that I am not free.

I drink. The wine tastes bitter on my tongue. The two men do not drink, but watch me instead. The wine hits me hard and quickly. Maybe it is just because it is so soon after my bout and I have not eaten anything, but surely the room should not be so out of focus? Surely I shouldn't be finding it so hard to concentrate on the faces of the men?

“Now,” Demos says. “I think we should take this to another room, the three of us.”

“I…” I can't get the words out to tell them that I don't want to go with them. They take my arms, helping me to my feet, and I need their help, because my legs are unsteady.

I know in that moment that they put something in the wine. They have drugged me.

“Ravenna has promised us that you will make it up to us thoroughly for losing us coin in your bout,” Bellus says. “At the time I didn't think it was possible that anyone could make restitution for so much money, but I'm sure we'll find a way.”

I look to the servants, hoping that they will help me. I can't get out the words to ask for it, but even if I did, would any of them intervene? These are nobles, and I am not. Nor are the servants. The two men half carry, half walk me in the direction of the side rooms.

“Just what are you doing with my gladiator?” a voice snaps. Lady Elara steps into the space, and I feel as though I might weep with gratitude at her presence.

“Lyra here was just suggesting she might want to come with us,” Bellus says.

Lady Elara shakes her head. She takes hold of my arm, then stares at the two men until they let go of me. “I think that's… unlikely, don't you? I think you should go. Unless you want me talking to the emperor about your behavior?”

They back away. Lady Elara must support my weight because I'm still too unsteady on my feet to do it myself. She watches the two until they go, then turns her attention to me.

“I told you before that people aren't above poisoning a gladiator,” she says. “Although usually it's before a bout, rather than… for this.”

“Ravenna…” I croak out. The effort of speaking is almost too much.

“Come on, we will get you tomyroom and see if something could be done about whatever they’ve drugged you with.”

I shake my head, struggling to form the words. They come out slurred and broken, but I force them out anyway.

“The fight… I need… to see.”

For a moment or two, I think Lady Elara might ignore me. That she might take me somewhere private to help me, reasoning that it's for my own good.

“Please.”

She sighs. “All right. Come with me.”

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