I smile at the thought of man-wolves who aren’t potty-trained, but it drops at the sound of heavy footsteps that pound from down the hall. Everyone in the hashery immediately goes silent. The screech of benches scraping against stone fills the air as we all push to our feet when Master Vilde strides into the room. It’s utterly soundless all around me, but I can practically hear the inner groans of every blade slave present at the cruel master’s presence. He’s on my want-to-kill list, just behind Tilleo.
“Today you will fight in the pit until only one of you is left standing,” he growls out, his moldy gray eyes hungry for the blood and pain that will paint the pit sands today. “You will be assigned an opponent, but once that opponent is down, you are free to attack anyone you wish. You are only allowed to touch the weapon assigned to you. Do I make myself clear?”
“I am your blade to command,” all of us answer back in unison.
A merciless smile crawls across Vilde’s face as we show him our complete compliance. I can see his chest puff up and his eyes darken as the power goes straight to his head, just like it always does, and I already know today is going to be a bad one for far too many of us. He starts to call out pairs and assigned weapons. I remind myself that none of this matters. My fate has already been decided. But I can’t ignore the rock that starts to settle in my stomach as more and more pairs are put together.
I know who I’m going to get before Master Vilde calls it out. Taur. I can see the conniving move from yards away. Taur is huge. The biggest male in our class. He’s faster than he has a right to be at his size, but he’s beatable as long as I can stay out of reach enough to tire him out.
“Taur, you’re assigned a broad sword. Auset, it’s been requested that you show what you can do with a bow.”
Master Vilde’s face melts into a vicious sneer, and it takes me a moment to realize why. He said bow, not bowandarrows. They want me to fight off the biggest brute in the batch with a useless bow and nothing more.
Great. Pissing great.
“Oh, and Tilleo has given the green light for two kills in this match. Nothing gets the Orders going like the scent of blood and death in the air.”
His putrid gray gaze fixes on me, the meaning very clear. Two people will die today, and it doesn’t take a mastermind or a tactical genius to guess who the bloody master wants one of them to be.
This just gets even better.
Part of me wants to point out that Tilleo hasbig plansfor me, so killing me today is not a wise idea. But no one knows about that aside from me and him…and maybe the Scorpions, depending on what they’ve pieced together from my cryptic declaration that first night in their tent. It does remind me though that I don’t have to hold back anymore. I can’t risk exposingallof my secrets, but I sure as shit can let loose and ride the bloodlust like I’ve always wanted.
Anticipation slowly pushes out the dread I was feeling, and I study Taur, sizing him up. I don’t need to tame my instincts in this fight. A small smile slips across my face. It grows even wider when Master Vilde takes one look at it and the overconfident light in his eyes dims with doubt. I have to stay alive until two bodies are in the sand. I can do this. Screw Vilde and anyone else who thinks otherwise. Soon they’ll be puking and shitting all over themselves, and I can’t wait to watch as they slowly and very painfully die.
* * *
Ibreathe hard as I dash under another brutal slash from Taur and his lethal long sword. Hot sand jumps at my feet with each heavy step, but I ignore the burning pain of the pit under my soles and concentrate on the bastard in front of me. Taur’s reach is already more than twice mine, so of course the mastershadto go and make it even longer by handing him the biggest weapon we train with other than a spear. What I wouldn’t give for a spear right now. The bell rang hours ago, indicating two deaths were done and we were back to maiming and not murdering, but it seems Taur didn’t get the message.
He swipes for me again, and I jump out of the way, the tip of the sword barely missing me that time. I can see the big behemoth tiring, but I can’t lie—it took way longer than I thought it would. My muscles scream at me to slow down and give them a break, but Taur just keeps coming. I scan his face, trying to discern what his next move will be as we start to circle one another again. My gaze flits between the egg-like bumps he now sports on his head like he’s about to sprout horns at any moment. I had really hoped that one of the bashes of my bow against his skull would knock him out, but he’s proven to be a resilient shit. It seems I wasn’t the only one holding back in training.
“You can keep running, but I’m going to cut you in half all the same,” Taur grumbles, both of us taking our time to analyze and assess the best move forward.
“Victors don’t talk shit about how they’re going to kill you, Taur. They just kill you. Threats are for the weak,” I lob back, satisfaction warming my chest when a tic in his jaw pulses with annoyance.
I don’t know what I ever did to this big oaf to deserve his relentless effort to separate my head from the rest of me, but I’m done with it. It’s hot as lava out here, and the punishing heat is sapping my strength from above as well as below. The blazing sand works hand in hand with the sun and the fucking masters to bring me to my knees. Sheer stubbornness and will are the only things I’m still running on, but it’s more than enough. This ludere made sure of it.
Taur surges at me like a bull, and I whack my bow against his left thigh as I duck under his swing and sprint to get out of the way of the spinning slash I can feel coming. I’ve been working on Taur’s thigh for forty minutes now. I know I’m only a couple blows away from rendering the leg useless, my hits making it too numb to hold his weight anymore. My biggest worry right now is that one of the hits is going to crack the shaft of my shitty bow, and then I’ll really be left with nothing to defend myself aside from my wits and my fists.
Taur stumbles as he twists to try to clip me, and I seize the opening his sloppy footwork offers and bat at the hand gripping the sword. I don’t expect much from my attack, so when the sword goes flying out of his palm, I’m shocked. It takes me a beat to process what just happened, but I’m sliding in the sand for the weapon before it can even hit the ground.
Jubilation rockets through me as I wrap a palm around the grip of the long blade. It’s heavy, but my body knows exactly what to do. Muscle memory kicks in and aids me in redirecting the blade as I smoothly swing for Taur. I’m fast, far faster than he thought I’d be with the hefty sword. Shock and fear detonate in his gaze as the arc of the blade promises to settle in the meat of his upper arm.
I know the masters won’t let me get away with killing him, regardless of how on board they were for my death when the blade was in his hands, so I don’t even bother. Iamgoing to make this prick hurt though for trying to be their lackey and come for me. Let’s see how he likes healing from an almost-severed limb.
Out of nowhere, a whip cracks against my hand. The braided tip clips my wrist so hard that my fingers immediately go numb and I lose my grip on the broad sword mid-swing. The weapon goes flying out of my palm, misses Taur completely, and spins end over end until it hits a wall and clunks loudly to the ground. Taur and I both snap our heads in the direction of the jeering masters, and I glare at Master Vilde as he coils a whip in his hands and sneers at me with undiluted contempt.
“No touching weapons that weren’t assigned to you,” he taunts, and as much as I want to snarl with frustration, I know it’ll do no good. I have to beat these bastards at their own game.
I ignore the snickers of the masters and instead leap at Taur while he’s still looking at them as though they’ll tell him what to do next. At some point with the whip, my bow broke in half, but I don’t let it deter me as I take the piece I still have and hit Taur as hard as I can in the temple with it.
Blood sprays as his skin tears from the force of my contact. He yelps and lifts his arms to protect his face, and I drop the now useless piece of wood in my hand and start in on the body shots with my fists. The masters yell out commands to help the big, bloody blade slave stave off my attack, and rage starts to boil me from the inside out.
Fucking cowards.
My vision goes red as I land hit after hit against Taur’s ribs. The noise all around me dims, making it easy for me to hear the delicious crack of bone followed by a pained whimper from my opponent’s mouth. It spurs me on, and I reach for an arm that Taur is trying to protect himself with and spin hard enough to break it or pull it out of the socket altogether. Taur screams, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Master Lira hand Master Vilde a coiled rope. I immediately know what I’m in for, what they’re going to try to do, and I hurriedly reach for something else on Taur’s huge frame that I can break before they get that rope around me and make this fight a hundred times harder for me to win.
It’s all I can do to not pivot my attack and rush the horrible masters for what they’re trying to do, but I shut that burning desire down. They’ll pay soon enough. I’ve already made sure of it.
