Page 27 of Soliv Four
“Well, you can make it up to me by not getting yourself killed in the arena.”
“I’ll do my best,” he said with an affectionate squeeze.
SIXTEEN
Two rotations later, Angie was seated in the tiered seating of the arena with Emon, J’garin, and the females claimed by Coraz and D’aktan, respectively. Angie didn’t know them well, yet because like her, their mates kept them close to protect them from the other inmates.
D’aktan’s mate, W’lena, was a striking blue humanoid with pale lavender hair and markings like those on a peacock’s tail feathers down her neck and back. Angie had only noticed them one rotation when W’lena wore her hair up.
Coraz’smate Ri’ateewas a mixed-race humanoid with pale white skin and ice blue hair. She was half-human. She never knew her mother, and her father, who raised her, would never speak of his former mate. When he was killed in an uprising, Ri’atee joined the Many Worlds bride program.
Angie exchanged pleasantries with the two women and Tomak’s men, but they were too preoccupied with the matches about to start in the arena for conversation.
“I know; I’m scared, too. I wish we all could get out of this place and have a normal life.”
“Don’t worry, ladies, our team has the best gladiators. They are not going to die today,” said Emon.
Angie knew that, but it didn’t stop her from worrying. Tomak had quipped that he and Coraz would be the cleanup crew. Six pairs fought, including Coraz and Tomak, in the first round. By the next round, only six men were left.
Neither man recognized any of the opponents. They were brought in from off-world to compete, and they outfought the Soliv gladiators, except for Tomak and Coraz, who dispatched their opponents after a hard, lengthy battle.
Angie teared up, seeing Tomak bleeding from a least a dozen shallow cuts. She cried his name when he went down under an all-out assault from his challenger. That foe drew back his sword to go in for the kill, but Tomak rolled out of his reach and scrambled to his feet. The other fighter looked surprised. Tomak grinned at him, and Angie could hardly believe her eyes.
Tomak was putting on a show, toying with the offworlder, making him seem better than he was. The alien was only a little taller than Tomak, but his body was wider and green. He was a little slower than Tomak, but there was power in his onslaught. The strain in Tomak’s muscles was evident when their swords clashed, and sparks flew.
“No!” Angie cried when Tomak’s shield broke loose, and he could no longer block the other man’s sword with it.
Green advanced on Tomak, who danced out of his reach, circling him. It took Angie a few micro pans to realize what her mate was doing. Tomak was advancing on Green again and backing him toward the fallen shield until he stumbled on it and fell on his back in the dirt.
Tomak wasted no time moving in for the kill, plunging his sword through his opponent’s neck. He died almost instantly. Tomak retrieved his bloody sword and raised his arms in victory and a triumphant grin for the viewing audience.
His body was streaked with rivulets of blood oozing from wounds on his arms and his torso. “Oh my god! Look at him. He’s a mess,” Angie groaned, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Don’t worry, Angie,” Emon soothed. “The boss man is fine; they will clean him and patch him up before the next round. The wounds are all superficial.”
“And he’s alive,” she murmured, closing her eyes and wiping her tears away, while she concentrated on not hyperventilating. Tomak still had one more match to go.
She opened her eyes just as he paused in the arena and looked up at her. She raised her hand to wave and smiled at him. The corners of his mouth lifted briefly, then he turned and strode into the gladiator chamber beneath the arena seating.
The next match was Coraz and an alien fighter. As soon as it started, his mate Ri’atee started chanting a plaintive song that reminded Angie of ancient Native American singing. Angie found herself humming with her. Ri’atee reached for her hand in solidarity.
Later, Ri’atee explained that the song was a prayer to her goddess to keep Coraz safe through his challenges. Her mates battle wasn’t quite as dramatic as Tomak’s, but Ri’atee jumped to her feet, cheering when Coraz dispatched his opponent and made his victory pose. Turning, Coraz sought his mate’s gaze as Tomak had and gave her a reassuring nod before he left the field.
One more, only one more, Angie told herself… Today… One more today. She let out a forlorn sigh, realizing this was her life now. She loved a man who played in a death sport. He was a champion now, but how long before he could lose his life? How long did any of them have?
Despite the facade of civility, all the inmates were armed with knives. Inmates from rival clans fought each other, resulting in death with regularity. Tomak avoided them when he could, but he didn’t back down when confronted.
For the first half of his match, Tomak fought a defensive battle that worried Angie deeply as she watched. Was it an act, or was he that overmatched? The few times Tomak attempted the kill, the other human danced away then launched a new assault on Tomak.
Angie didn’t want to see him get hurt, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from the fight. Swords clashed; sparks flew. Attempts to stab through the briefest opening were parried with heavy shields: advance, clash, block, retreat. Somehow the challenger kicked out and caught Tomak’s lower leg hard enough that he fell backward in the dirt.
The aggressor attempted to move in for the kill. Tomak rolled and used his shield to lever himself up, so his adversary missed. Sweat poured out of both their bodies in the tropical heat as they battled on. Again, the opponent lunged for the kill. Tomak twisted away but not fast enough to avoid a shallow cut across his upper abdomen. The move gave Tomak the opening for the kill. He rammed his sword through the other man just under his sternum all the way through.
The man grunted and stared wide-eyed at Tomak in a look of disbelief. Blood seeped out around the blade, front and back. Tomak yanked his sword back and watched the other male crumple to the ground as his life’s red blood pumped out of him, soaking the powdered dirt under him.
Tomak stood looking down at the man he had just killed for several long moments before he finally took the victor’s pose. Cheers rose from the audience, but Angie noted that he wasn’t smiling this time.
She wondered if Tomak had not wanted to kill the man. Did he know him? Or was it just more comfortable for him to kill nonhumans? Angie couldn’t quite believe that. She didn’t want to consider it.
