Call to Arms (The Girl In The Arena Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Call to Arms (The Girl In The Arena Book 1)
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“I will have your meal sent to you.” Hector turned and walked away without another word.

Frustrated by his silence Reena paced the small cell. Where was her father? Could she possibly get out of here? How could she use the bowl without anybody seeing into the cell and seeing her do so? She had a feeling that she had been tucked into the cell for a reason. The wall opposite her door was blank, but there was no telling if anyone would walk by. Finally her need to relieve herself outweighed her concern for modesty and she ran to the bowl used it then tossed the contents out the window.

She had just replaced the bowl when footsteps sounded in the corridor leading to her cell. A thin towheaded boy appeared, holding a tray. He set the tray before the door but did not open the door, “Here is the meal I was ordered to bring you.”

“How am I supposed to get it?”

“Reach through the bars.”

Everything in Reena rebelled at that. She would have to get on her knees, reach through the bars and pull the small container of water and the accompanying cup through the bars. Then she would have to remove the bread, white soft cheese, and fruit from the tray piece by piece and pull it into the room with her. The thought of being on her knees, practically in a beggar’s position in order to eat upset her, but she had no choice, and she was starving.

When she had removed all of her items from the tray the boy picked the tray back up and turned away but then he turned back. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?” Reena looked up at him from her seat on the floor. The water in the pitcher beckoned her and she was so thirsty she could barely get a word out of her mouth.

He fiddled with the plain rope belt he wore around his homespun robe, “Were you really going to kill the Governor?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“They say he killed his father you know. The whole city has been in an uproar ever since the old Governor died and the new one took over.” He left without another word.

Reena drank straight from the pitcher, too thirsty to care about manners. She gathered the bread, fruit, cheese and the pitcher all up in her arms and went to her pallet. Her first instinct was to wolf the food down. Tear into it and eat every morsel of the bread and every delectable little nibble of the cheese.

Experience kept her from doing so. She knew that food could be scarce, that bounty was never guaranteed to last and so she split the foodstuffs in half and hid the rest for later. As she ate she considered what the boy who had brought her tray had told her. No wonder the Governor was so young; he was the son of the Governor.

Had he really killed his own father? Could he honestly be that bloodthirsty?

Of course he was. She had seen it in his eyes there in the arena. He was not a kind person at all. He enjoyed blood, and seeing it spilled and she was just lucky that hers had not been spilled there that day.

It would be spilled soon enough though.

The thought was enough to make her lose her appetite. Reena wanted to cry all over again but there were no tears left inside of her, at least not at the moment. She stood back up and went back to the window. Looking down, looking out into the world gave her a sense of purpose. She could see the city, she could see the people on the streets, and that gave her hope.

If she craned her neck she could see right beyond the walls of the city. She could see the beginning of the long green fields that stretched away from the city and toward the woods that she called home. Oh, to be home!

Yes, there she was hunted. There she was an Outlaw and death waited around every corner. But there she could run, she could fight, and she had hope. Here she was trapped in this forsaken little stone room, robbed of her ability to conceal herself, to run and to hide.

They had robbed her of her very identity; she was Reena. She was the daughter of Liam…

She was the daughter of Liam. That gave her courage. She was the first female gladiator, so be it. Hatred towards the crowd surged up in her and a determination to survive. They wanted to see her die, they wanted to see her lying in a pool of her own blood out there in the dust and sand under a faultless sky while they sat in the stands cheering and drinking their wine and eating.

She was not going to give them the satisfaction. If she died, if she had to die, she would do it her way. They could keep her prisoner here in the cell, they could entrap her body, but they could never imprison her mind. They could never force her to do and be something she was not.

She was going to have to kill people if she was going to survive. That was what they were telling her. They were making the rules by which she would live, and she had never in her entire life lived by the rules that the Governor of this city had set out… And she was not about to start now.

The door rattled. Reena turned to see the Governor standing there with a nasty smirk on his face. “How do you like the accommodations?”

“I should have killed you out there on the field.”

“I knew you had a blade. Tell me, whatever did you do with it? I had my soldiers search every member of the party that went to the arena with you but it was not to be found. Now why is that?”

“Maybe the gods concealed it from you.”

He tapped a finger on the bar, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think you are going to amuse me very much before it is all over.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“You are tough aren’t you? Well we shall see how fast you lose that toughness. Tomorrow, you begin training.”

Reena lifted her chin, “you cannot force me to do anything. Just because you want me to be the first female gladiator does not mean that I will be. Perhaps I will kill myself long before I ever go into the arena and rob you of the satisfaction of being able to tell me what to do.” Had she really just said that? The fact that she was being so rude to him frightened her. She needed to be smarter if she was going to live but that question of what did she have to live for and why live according to their rules kept racing around in her head; it would not let her be silent

“You could do that, yes. Of course, then you could not save your father’s life.” His smile grew nastier than ever.

“What did you say?” She took a step closer, her own hands reaching around the bars. The soldier standing next to the Governor rapped her knuckles smartly with the hilt of his sword. Pain lanced through her hands and she shrieked but she did not let go of the bars. She reached through them and grabbed the Governor by his robe pulling him closer to her.

“Release the Governor!” The soldier flicked his sword so that the blade edge was under her chin, the sharp point tickled her throat and she saw the Governor’s smile widening, growing even hungrier.

“Your father can live if you will battle for him.”

Reena’s hands fell away from his robe and she took a step back. She had to take a long breath to keep control of her voice as she asked, “What do you mean?”

“For every battle that you win in the arena I will release one of the people that you fought with today. Your father will be the last to be released.”

He had to be joking! There had been almost a dozen of them in that arena today! How could she win twelve battles? How could she not?

The Governor backed away. “Enjoy your evening, gladiator.” The sneer on his mouth when he said the last word left no doubt in her mind that he did not think she could do it, that this was all set up. He had known how hard she would take it if she had to battle for her father’s life, and what it would do to her to know that she could not survive long enough to free him.

Or at least, he did not think she could.

Finally, something on which they agreed.

 

C
hapter 3

 

Reena was sure that she would never be able to sleep, but eventually she did. When she awoke, gray and rose colored streaks colored the plain walls of her cell. She lay there on her pallet, looking up at the ceiling and wondering what today would hold.

Her belly rumbled and she took out the bread and cheese from the night before, eating it slowly and drinking what water was left. She left the fruit for later, wondering bleakly if there would even be a later for her.

She heard Hector’s footsteps in the hall and when he stepped in front of her door, she stood to face him.

“These are for you.”

Reena looked at the garments dangling from Hector’s skewed hands. He had to be joking! “No thank you. I will wear my own clothes.”

“Every gladiator wears the same uniform while training. There is no room for argument here.”

“Do I look like the other gladiators?”

“No, you don’t. The Governor himself sent word that you would be clothed as the other gladiators. You have to learn how to pick your battles girl, is this really the one over which you want to die?”

Reena glared at Hector, “I cannot wear that! I would be practically naked!”

Hector scratched his bare belly with one large hand, “I agree with you. I think this is a distraction for the other gladiators; I think you are going to have an unfair advantage over your partners in training today.”

She stepped closer to the bars, her eyes intense, “Now tell me Hector, why would the Governor want me to have an unfair advantage?”

“I am sure I have no idea.”

Reena had a very good idea of why. If she developed a false sense of confidence out there on the training fields she would take that with her into the arena. That alone would guarantee her death, and would it would not only guarantee her death, it would guarantee that the citizens of Aretula would be happy to see her die.

“Are there any blind gladiators Hector?”

Again she thought she saw an almost imperceptible twinkle in his eye, and a slight twitch at one corner of his mouth. “No, but we have several who do not appreciate women. At least not in that way.”

“Would it be possible for me to train with them?”

“I believe so.”

He tossed the uniform through the bars of the door and said, “you better hurry because breakfast has already been served in the hall. Get there too late and you will get only scraps.”

He turned his back, but he did not leave. Reena gathered up the training uniform and stared at it. She would have to wear this and she would because she had no choice, but she was not going to like it.

She took off her own clothing and put it away carefully hiding it below her pallet. She pulled on the thin leather shirt: it had no sleeves and it stopped right above her belly. It barely covered her breasts. The kilt was a solid piece of leather with multiple strips of leather over it. There was a plain belt that came with it and she had a tight knit all the way to the last hole and then passed it in order to keep it up on her narrow hips.

Hector unlocked the door and stepped back to allow her to pass. If he noticed that she had worn her own shoes instead of the sandals they had provided for her, he pretended not to.

The gladiator’s dining hall was a huge echoing chamber filled with plain tables. Long benches sat in front of the tables and every table was covered with wooden plates, most of them bearing the remains of breakfast.

Hector and Reena sat at one table, and the same boy that had brought her tray the night before hurried up to them. He plopped down tankards of water and something that looked like wine and then dashed away again. When he returned she had two wooden plates, one in each hand, and almost plates were piles of soft scrambled eggs, dense brown bread covered in butter, and some kind of meat.

Reena was too hungry and too nervous to take her time with the food. She ate quickly, her only thought that she should’ve saved her bread and cheese that morning. When they were finished eating Hector said, “it is time to go to the fields.”

He stood and she stood as well. Her legs trembled and her mouth was dry despite the amount of water that she had drunk. She followed him out of the hall and out into a large courtyard.

She stood there, blinking in the sun and was dazed by the sight before her. Men, and some younger boys, fought viciously. They held wooden swords and some held long spiked wooden balls on narrow chains attached to sticks; they swung those things around their heads aiming at straw stuffed figures propped up along the walls.

Some of the combatants grappled in the dust, their arms and legs flailing as they fought to gain control over their opponent. How was she to survive this? How could she survive this? There was no way, she was going to die long before she ever went to the arena.

Hector called one of the men over and Reena wanted to shrink backwards as he approached. He was huge! He wore no shirt and his muscles bulged, veins stood up from those muscles pulsing under the skin. Scars marked his chest, his belly, his legs and his face. That he was a gladiator who had survived many battles was obvious, and that he was not happy about being called over to where Reena stood was equally apparent.

“What is it Hector?”

“Kale, this is Reena.”

“And what do you expect me to do?”

They were talking about her like she was not even there. Or even human! Reena stepped forward, “I do believe he wants you to be my training partner today. Do you know you’re named after a leafy green vegetable?”

Kale narrowed his eyes, “Are you trying to get me to kill you? It will do you no good, you must know that we’re not allowed to kill you on the training field.”

“I also know that to even say that to me could get you killed for treason.”

They faced each other, the untested girl and the battle-weary gladiator. Hector broke the silence, “I told you she had spirit.”

Kale shrugged. “Spirit alone will not keep her alive in the arena.”

Reena said, “Then tell me what will. Show me what will. I have got to win twelve battles.”

“You are never going to win twelve battles.” Kale sounded almost sorry.

“Not if you don’t help me.”

“Perhaps not even if I do.”

“I suppose we won’t know until you try. Would it kill you to try?”

“No, it would not.”

Hector asked, “Do you have a weapon that you prefer?”

“Werebane.”

Both men laughed. “That would be a neat trick wouldn’t it?” Hector looked at Kale who simply shrugged. “You need to pick a weapon, you need to get good with at least one weapon. You need him to become skilled enough with it that you can take on an opponent and kill them with it.”

How could she kill somebody? It was different in the woods, and even so she had never killed anybody out there on purpose, not until she killed the soldiers with the werebane. To just walk up, to thrust the blade deep into somebody’s body; she was not sure she could do it. She had not been able to do it in the arena when she placed the Governor, as much as she had wanted to.

Still, there was no choice. She looked around taking stock of the men who were fighting in the arena. “Which one of these will I have to fight?”

Hector looked surprised, “what do you mean?”

Reena asked again, “when I go into the arena, which one of these men will I be fighting?”

Kale said, “oh, I forgot. She has never been inside the city in her life. She has no idea how the teams work.”

Reena said, “Well don’t just stand there! Illuminate me! Explain this to me because I feel like you’re laughing at me and I don’t like it!”

Hector said, “Nobody is laughing at you. You will fight none of these men; these are gladiators. Your battles will be against those who are convicted, who are sentenced to die in the Games. Or at least, your first battles will be. If you survive those then you will move up to the next tier. Then you will be fighting against those who are seasoned by battle; this is only one of the training fields. On the other side of the wall there are others. Those convicts who have survived their battles are trained over there just as are gladiators are trained over here.

“Also over there, are those who were Culled, but deemed unfit or they were too rebellious, or they committed some other form of treason. Or they were just found to be perfect to fight. However they wound up there that’s where they are.”

“How am I supposed to know how to fight somebody if I can’t see them fighting?”

“That is part of being a gladiator.” Kale looked around him, his eyes scanning those fighting there in the courtyard. “We need to find a weapon that will suit you. You do not have the arm strength that these men do. And you don’t have the body strength either. You need to be able to keep somebody at bay; if they get you on the ground you are dead.

“A sword might be ideal, but a sword is usually not any good against a mace.”

Reena asked, “What is a mace?”

Hector pointed to a man swinging one of the spiked balls on the chain and stick combination. “That is a mace.”

Crap. How was she supposed to fight against somebody holding one of those things? It looked incredibly deadly, and if that was just one used for training instead of actual battle she was in a lot of trouble! “Could I use one of those?”

“Yes, the training ones.” Hector stepped one sandaled foot into the sand. “The ones used in the arena are far heavier, almost ten pounds heavier. It surprises a lot of the people on the other side of the wall.”

“You mean the Game is fixed.” Reena knew that accusation would not be taken lightly and it wasn’t. Hector grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her so hard that her head flopped about on her neck her hair flew all around her face.

“Don’t you ever say that! If you are ever heard to say that out loud you will be murdered before you can ever take your next breath or step, do you understand me?”

Hector let her go, and she stepped back dizzy and slightly sick. She had to blink several times to clear her vision and Kale stood there looking at her, his face unreadable.

“I understand.”

“Then let’s begin,” Kale said.

“I would like that very small blade thing that that man is carrying,” Reena pointed to a man standing on the sidelines. He was the only one not fighting and unlike the others he wore a simple brown homespun robe tied with a rope belt. Tucked into the rope belt was a small dirk, its silver handle gleaming in the sun.

The surprise on Hector and Kale’s face was almost laughable. Hector said, “What do you think you’re going to do with that? It is practically a toy!”

“It is something I can fight with,” Reena said.

Kale called the man over and he came, his feet puffing up dust as he walked. Kale said, “Give me your blade.”

The man lifted an eyebrow, “Whatever for Kale?”

“Because I said to.”

“Surely the girl is not going to try to fight with an eating utensil?” He was laughing at her! It was obvious, Reena felt her shoulder stiffen her chin came up. “It does not matter what I fight with,” she said in the sternest of voices she could muster up. “Only that I fight.”

He plucked the knife from his belt and handed it to Hector, “May the gods be with her, because if they are not then surely they will not be with you either Hector. The arena will not be the same without you.”

He walked away and Reena looked at Hector, a frown between her eyes. “What did he mean by that Hector?”

“I told you, if you fail I fail.”

She was responsible for his life too. The Governor was indeed a sadistic and cruel man. If she lost the fight Hector would die; he was her trainer and he was responsible for her. Just as the Governor had killed the beast master whose beasts had failed the day before in the arena, he would kill Hector if his beast failed. To the Governor she was nothing — as insignificant as the tigers and lions that had been chained up and let into the arena to fight and die.

“I will not feel you have.”

“Perhaps you should put a hefty bet on her Hector,” Kale said.

“Why would he do that?”

Kale said, “The man whose knife you just demanded is the one who sets the odds for the matches; he watches all of the training and reports back to his own masters. I am quite sure that now the odds he gives you are going to be very low, but then again he has not seen your spirit just yet.”

They were betting on her. They were going to be betting on her very light. She would have been right; she was nothing more than entertainment — a way to while away an afternoon. Some people would make money on her death others would lose money on it. That depressed her more than she could say.

Kale said, “It’s time to start your training.” A fist crashed into the side of her head knocking her three feet backwards. She landed on her bottom in the dirt with her feet spread out and her hands flailing as she tried to catch herself. She landed wrong, bruising her shoulder. She stared up at him stunned and unsure of what to do.

“Get up! Get up right now!”

Reena scrambled to her feet. Kale circled her and she instinctively crouched down circling in the opposite direction. He was so focused on what she was doing that she did not notice the others in the courtyard pausing in their own battles to watch her. Kale’s arm snaked out, and he had her again that time on the other side of her head.

BOOK: Call to Arms (The Girl In The Arena Book 1)
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