Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator (16 page)

“No, it was as I remembered, though I did feel something when I picked it up. A shock. I thought it was just static, or maybe a physical reaction to the memories it stirred up.”

He shrugged, suggesting that my experience shed no light on the problem. “The pin coming to you like this, it's a sign from the gods, an omen that you must be the one to find your brother and finish your mother's work.”

“Tell me more. What of the mineral she refers to?”

“Yes, the Sertorians call it ambrosia.”

“Is it a metallurgical agent? For ship building or forging weapons?”

“It could be, but in truth we've been able to learn very little. Whatever it is, my intelligence tells me the Sertorians believe it is powerful enough to ensure their victory over us. A demonstration of its potential sent the Arrians scuttling over to their side.”

My uncle was pushing me to jump out of the frying pan and into the fire, but I needed to know more. His news was so sudden, and a million questions were running through my mind, competing with grief and exhaustion.

“Uncle, how long have you had this message?” I asked.

“Ah, you are naturally suspicious and I don't blame you. I'll be honest with you, I've had it since the war began.”

“And you only shared it with me now?”

“You've only just come into possession of the pin, besides, how was I going to get you onto a Sertorian occupied world? They've had it locked down tight. But don't think I haven't been working behind the scenes for you. Who do you think suggested the Olympus Decimus solution to the emperor in the first place? Who ensured you be allowed to continue in the arena? Do you think your father would have let you run as long as he did unless you had my support?”

“Father knew of the message?”

“No, of course not. Lucius and I have never seen eye to eye. Everything is black and white to him. He never even knew your mother worked for me. One thing you learn as a proconsul is to give people only the information that moves your plans forward. He would never allow me to send you to Olympus Decimus. He's like a bulldozer, your father. Look at the mess he made scuttling all my behind-the-scenes work to secure your place with the Golden Wolves.”

My uncle as my patron. It made sense.

“You see, you can trust me. I have only ever acted in your interests, dear niece.”

“Where did Mother's transmission originate from?”

“You want to know where she died? You wouldn't be surprised to learn it was near the site of our old capital, the point where the bombing began. As best we can tell, it was beneath the mountains just to the north of Lupus Civitas. Near the tallest peak, Nova Olympus.”

“Mother's message. It's urgent but it's light on detail,” I said. “There are so many unanswered questions. That talk of keys and locks. I don't understand. Do you?”

He slowly shook his head.

“Listen, your mother was one of my best operatives, Accala, and one of the most intelligent women in the empire. I'm sure she said precisely what she was able to say, given the circumstances. There are secrets that need to be uncovered on Olympus Decimus, dear niece, and it's our job to do it. That's why I need you to accept Crassus' offer. Once you're on the ground, with the pin, I'm certain you'll pick up the scent and find your brother. You have your mother's sharp mind.”

Just like when I used to spot spies in the household. He wanted to make use of me again.

“I … I don't know. This is all happening so fast and nothing has played out anything like Mother envisioned. How can I possibly search for Aulus in the middle of a gladiatorial contest? If I joined their team, the Sertorians would be watching me all the time.”

“I have it on good authority that the course will start at Avis Accipitridae and finish near the ruins of Lupus Civitas, two and a half thousand miles to the east. We know that your brother is being held somewhere between those two points at one of the hidden Sertorian mining bases established before the war started. We have a rough idea of where the bases are, peppered around the range of mountains, but we can't give you a precise location, except to say the most significant bases are all around the middle of the continent. That's our guess as to where they're keeping him.”

“So that means by the middle of the tournament I'll have to have established Aulus' location,” I stated.

“Yes. You'll be using the games as cover, so where the tournament course goes, you go. It's the easiest way to get close to your brother without rousing the enemy's suspicion—or that of the emperor, for that matter. Now this next part is very important. The Sertorians are double-crossing bastards, each and every one, so don't believe a word they tell you about your brother from here on in. Follow your own instincts until you see Aulus with your own eyes, a solid visual confirmation, nothing less will do.”

I walked over to the nearest portal and looked down on the city below. The thought of joining the Sertorian team, of being disciplined and beaten by the men who were responsible for all of the misfortune to befall my family, was almost too much to bear.

“Don't look at your proximity to the Sertorians as a disadvantage,” Uncle continued, as if reading my thoughts. “The very people who imprison Aulus will be your teammates. You'll be in an unprecedented position to gather intelligence. And know that I'll be there, keeping an eye out for you the entire time. I have hidden resources on that world, and the moment you find Aulus, I can move heaven and earth to get him out of there, but nothing can happen unless you do your part.”

I looked back down at Rome. It vanished suddenly as we passed into another black storm cloud. What was that Uncle said? About there being an advantage in being close to the Sertorians?

“Make no mistake,” my uncle continued, “Crassus may have a tenderness for you, but Licinus will try to break you, and all the while you will have to endure his commands, the orders of the man who killed your mother and imprisoned your brother. Remember the hero Mucius Scaevola. His bravery in the face of adversity led to unexpected outcomes. Let them abuse you, let them visit every humiliation upon you, and all the while hide that you're burning away on the inside. Store it all away in your heart, hidden deep within your breast like a burning coal, allowing every indignity to stoke its heat until it is time to unleash the fire.”

Mention of Mucius Scaevola did stir the fire inside. The Roman who went to kill the Clusian king, Scaevola was captured before he could do the deed, and when questioned under threat, he thrust his hand into the flames of a brazier to show that Romans had no fear of death. The Clusians were so intimidated by him that they let him go free and begged Rome to forge a peace treaty.

“There is no easy road ahead, but I ask you, can you live with yourself if you remain here in Rome now that I've told you? Now that your mother has petitioned you from beyond the grave?”

“I'll go. That's what a real Roman would do, isn't it?”

“Good girl.”

“But there's one thing I must insist upon, Uncle. You know I will do everything in my power to find Aulus, but what then? What of the Sertorians? I set out seeking justice and I mean to have it. If I join with the Blood Hawks, can you promise me that the Sertorians will pay in full and at my own hand?”

He gently pulled me round to stand before him and placed both hands upon my shoulders.

“Oh, but you are my favorite relation. Make no mistake, you shall make them pay, in full and a thousand times over.” He crunched another fat grape with his teeth.

“Ah, you know I've got a story for everything. Tell me, dear niece, have you heard the one about the Trojan horse?”

*   *   *

S
TANDING ON THE
S
ERTORIAN
parade float, I took the hand that Gaius Sertorius Crassus offered me and the damnation that went with it. The Viridian crowd screamed vitriol, hysterical with rage. To my irritation, the people in the Sertorian crowd who did not hurl abuse at me cheered for Crassus. His reputation was enhanced by my presence—I was a coup, a wolf tamed for their amusement.

The only consolation was that my father was nowhere to be seen.

Holographic billboards filled the sky above the parade, projecting live images of the contestants aboard the floats, posting their arena statistics interspersed with crowd shots and sponsored advertising.

The giant oaf Lurco seemed to be positively enjoying the abuse hurled at him by the Viridian crowd. He jumped up and down, swinging his hammer, returning insults.

The procession would come to an end at the Carmental Gate. Passing through it and out of the city's ancient walls, the Blood Hawks would be carried via shuttle to
Incitatus,
the Sertorian proconsul's flagship in stationary orbit above Mother Earth. The gate was so close, but the floats moved at an infuriatingly slow pace. Hades himself could not have devised a more drawn-out torment.

Through a gap in the stained bubble of our protective shield, a large work of graffiti came into view. Painted high on a wall in red was a crude depiction of a crucified woman with a hawk's head. At the foot of the cross was a bad drawing of a severed wolf's head. To remove any potential for confusion, beneath the drawing was written
ACCALA MOCK HAWK
and the caption
A WOLF THAT WILL FLAP ITS ARMS AND SQUAWK FOR FOOD IS NO WOLF AT ALL.
Suddenly, a man dressed in a Viridian toga pushed the crowd aside and leveled a supercharged ion pistol at me. He called out something. It might have been
Rome does not reward traitors.
Or perhaps
Rome has spoken.
I couldn't be sure because of the noise. Before he even had the chance to pull the trigger, a purple-cloaked Praetorian lowered his staff, releasing a blast that killed the man instantly. His scorched corpse fell to the ground, twitching and smoldering. Here was the first of my countrymen to die in the wake of my choice to join the Blood Hawks. How many more would follow once the tournament began?

The Viridian team sailed on twenty yards ahead of us, the crowd roaring their approval, trumpets blasting. Their float was showered with confetti and streamers, holographic fireworks and sparklers. The team leader, Vibius Viridius Carbo—friend of my father and champion nobleman athlete—saluted the crowd, lapping up their approval. Their team trainer, Gnaeus Viridius Metellus, swung his steel club to and fro. Behind him came the Viridian charioteers Titus Nervo and Trio Mercurius. Mercurius was my second cousin, a year younger than me, talented but relatively inexperienced. Next were Scipio Caninus, the one-eyed bestiarii, and his counterpart, Capitulus Pavo, shooting bolts of colored light into the sky from his crossbow, much to the crowd's delight. In the arena, the same weapon would fire bolts of black steel, barbed and deadly. Bringing up the rear was Taticulus Viridius Leticus, with his Sauromatae throwing swords—medium-size blades that started out straight before branching out into smaller curves in two places—the middle and hilt. They were similar in nature to my discus as a projectile weapon, though nowhere near as accurate, but they more than made up for that deficiency in close fighting where Leticus could wield them as swords to cut and thrust. Right up front beside Carbo, in the place that should have been mine, was my first cousin, the infuriating Darius Viridius Strabo, sporting his golden bow and arrows. I looked up at the aerial billboards, unable to stomach the regret I felt when I beheld the Viridian team. The Calpurnian float was finally passing through the gate, and the media spherae seemed to have captured the moment from every angle. Standing at the front of their float, heading up the procession, stood Marcus, fist raised high in the air, rallying the crowds. But it couldn't be. Marcus didn't want to fight in the tournament. But then I remembered that when he stuck his neck out to give me my chance, he'd also put himself in contention—and now it seemed he'd taken the last place on the Calpurnian team.

The roar of the crowd was deafening now, so Crassus couldn't hear a word of the oaths and accusations I fired at him. His smile only broadened and he continued waving graciously. Had he arranged Marcus' inclusion? At the very least, he could have told me my lanista would be part of the Ludi Romani. I'd been desperately holding it all together, but the sight of Marcus there nearly broke me. When we reached the arena world, could I kill my mentor? His very presence meant that he certainly felt no compunction about killing me—he was there to eliminate Talonite gladiators, and I was their newest recruit.

Finally, the other floats passed through the gate, and ahead of us I saw the Viridians boarding their team shuttle. Then it was our turn and the nightmare of the parade was over. The sleek black-and-red Sertorian shuttle was only a dozen feet away, waiting to carry me to a much worse torment, servitude to my enemies. What I had endured was only the beginning.

Licinus and the others were already off the float and moving toward the open shuttle door, ignoring the gaggle of news reporters and their insistent questions. Crassus and I weren't so lucky. The reporters formed a ring about us, to delay our departure until they'd secured a quote.

Accala, are you here of your own free will? Why have you betrayed your house? Are you and Crassus lovers?

No words would come and I was glad of it. If they did suddenly burst forth, who knew what I would say? I squeezed Crassus' hand. Better to let him do the talking.

“Of course she's here freely. She hasn't betrayed her house. On the contrary, she's serving it as a beacon of cooperation. By becoming an honorary Sertorian, Accala Viridius is demonstrating to the Caninine houses the one sure way to ensure galactic peace. Are we lovers?” He smiled at me and then looked to a female reporter from his own house. “All I'll say now is that we have a special relationship.” Crassus oozed charm while I tried to keep the contents of my stomach down. My father suddenly came into view, striding toward me in his senatorial robes. He was arguing loudly with a Praetorian officer who had unsuccessfully tried to detain him behind the crowd barriers and was now keeping pace by his side. Crassus saw him too and signaled a Sertorian legionary guarding the shuttle. The soldier went to grab my father, who backhanded the man with his robotic arm. There was the sound of crunching bone as the guard flew away into the crowd.