Page 10 of Ironhold, Trial Four

I wipe those tears awayas I hear someone approaching on quiet feet. I turn and see Alaric. It has been a while since we met one another in the beast pens. Since we have simply spent time together here.

He approaches and draws me into his arms, clearly seeing how upset I am, reacting automatically. This side of him, without the arrogance or the distance, is what keeps drawing me to him.

“Lyra, what is it?”

“I've heard news of my home village,” I explain. “It is being attacked over and over by bandits, and I can't do anything about it. I wish I could just…”

“What? Flee here to go back there?” Alaric asks. He looks worried that I might actually try it. “Lyra, you understand that you can't do that, right? If they even think you're trying to escape, they'll kill you for it.”

“Do you think I don't know that?” I snap at him. “That's thepoint. I'm helpless here. I’m trapped.”

“You're far from helpless,” Alaric says. “You have come so far from where you started. You have become one of the most feared gladiators in the colosseum.”

“That doesn't help my family or the people of my village,” I point out. This isn’t about the colosseum.

Alaric steps back from me, looking at me carefully. “You can't focus on them. You can’tthinkabout them, or it will drive you insane with worry.”

“I'm meant to just push my own family from my mind?” I ask. “Could you? We both know you don't.”

His mother is his patron. She paid the money for that so that she would be able to see her own son.

“This is a place where we need to focus on ourselves,” Alaric says. “Until our seasons are done, we can'tallow anything to distract us fromthe task of becoming the best gladiators we can be. Winning our bouts and survivingare the things that matter. Nothing else.”

He says it with such conviction, as if he actually believes that.

“Why do you say things like that, Alaric?” I ask. “Why do you pretend like nothing matters to you but the glory here?”

For a second, I think I see through his façade to some real emotion beneath. To pain and worry, to the part of him that I know cares about the world. All too quickly, it's replaced by the familiar maskof arrogance and humor that he uses to deflectany attempt to get deeper.

“Haven’t you noticed, Lyra? I’m allaboutthe glory.”

“Even if I believed that, it wouldn't make it possible for me to just ignore what's happening to my village.”

“But youmustignore it,” Alaric insists. He puts a hand on my arm. “Don't you see, Lyra? You can'tgive your energy and your thoughts to something you can't affect. You need to focus on surviving, on winning. I came to find you because thebouts for the new season have been decided by Lord Darius and Lady Selene. I thought you would want to know.”

Lord Darius is the master of Ironhold, the former gladiator who is in charge of our training. Lady Selene Ravenscroft is the arch magistrate ofAetheria. Together, They decide on what will happen in the games, subject to the approval of the emperor.

A thought crosses my mind. “I could appeal to the emperor. Ask him for help with my village.”

Alaric shakes his head, looking even more worried now. “And when he decides to punish you for your impertinence? He could do something to you that will affect your performance in the games. He could make it harder for you to win.”

“Winning isn't the only thing that matters,” I insist.

“Of course it is,” Alaric retorts. “If the choices are victory or death, then you can only choose victory, whatever it takes. We do what's necessary here.”

“And what if there were something at stake that mattered to you?” I ask.

Alaric shrugs. “I wouldn't let considerations from the outside world get in the way. My intention is to win these games, Lyra. I only have this season before I’m able to go back to my family with honor. Then I can think about other things. But there's a world of difference between merely surviving and being the champion of the games.”

“And you would do anything for that?” I ask. “What about…”

I hesitate before I ask the question, because there are some questions that we don't ask here. Some questions to which it's better not to know the answer. I ask it anyway.

“What about if they made you fight me?” I ask. “What about if they said that the way to win this season and gain all the glory was to kill me?”

He hesitates and in that hesitation there's a kind of answer in itself.

“You would do it, wouldn't you?” I say, accusing him. “You would actually kill me out on the sands! I thought I meant something to you, Alaric.”

---