Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator (22 page)

There was a tiny sip of blue lotus tisane left at the bottom of the mug. I tilted the cup up and waited for it to drizzle down onto my tongue. Every last drop for courage, and then I allowed Alba to help me into the formfitting uniform.

“You will please master,” she said, as if that was the sole purpose of every being in the universe—to make Gaius Sertorius Crassus happy.

*   *   *

M
Y FIRST WEEK OF
training aboard
Incitatus
began in the gymnasium—an entire cargo bay converted for gladiatorial practice. After the regulated heat of the ship, the freezing cold atmosphere of the bay was a surprise but not the physical shock I would have expected considering I was dressed in nothing more than a single layer of clothing. My skin prickled, but the cold didn't seem to penetrate the surface. It must have been the blue tisane drink. Perhaps it had medicinal properties because the buzzing in my head waned to a barely audible whisper. Breathing out through my mouth as a kind of experiment, I saw the air turn to foggy vapor at once. I ran my hand up and down the material of my sleeve quickly and then touched my nose with my bare finger. A strong static spark came as a surprise. It must have been at least fifteen below zero.

The other Blood Hawks had assembled and were in the process of donning thermal training armor over their uniforms. They looked like killers. Not athletes or sporting celebrities—killers in and out of the arena. Even skinny Mania, armed with her needle knives and bow staff, looked dangerous.

“It's because you haven't been blooded yet,” Gaia Barbata explained when she noticed my eyes lingering on the red circle on the front of her doublet. Their uniforms had grooves also, though they were all red. “Once you've passed the initiation, you'll get a uniform just like mine.”

“Each time you absorb one of Proconsul Aquilinus' precepts, a band of red will be added to your uniform. Once you've been blooded, you'll receive the circle,” Castor Corvinus said.

“Crassus tells me that you've never even killed a barbarian, let alone a human,” Barbata said. Her voice was breathy and excited, like a seductress anticipating the touch of a virgin lover.

“But don't worry, we'll help you,” Mania said. “We want you to be one of us.”

“Yes,” Barbata purred, “one of us.”

“Very good, Accala,” Crassus said when he saw me. “You look very smart.”

“I look like a bat with its wings cut off,” I rebuffed.

He contemplated the comment, his finger hovering over his armilla, judging if it was worth shocking me, but then he simply shrugged. “You'll look better when Barbata's done with you,” he said.

“Done with me how?” I asked.

Gaia Barbata placed her hands on my shoulders. She looked me over like she was appraising the merit of an unfinished painting. “I've been put in charge of managing your appearance. It's important to make the right impression when the whole empire will be watching your every move.” She saw my look of apprehension and added, “Don't worry. I see some primitive potential in those features. We can make you beautiful yet. Just you wait.”

I would show her my primitive potential in the Ludi Romani. We'd see how condescending she was then.

The gymnasium course was made of grid-covered terraform blocks—geometric shapes overlaid with holographic images that simulated the types of terrain we'd encounter on Olympus Decimus. At the far end of the gym were ten enclosed cages, the same ones I'd seen when we boarded. The creatures inside were making plenty of noise, but then Licinus appeared and signaled to the handlers, who walked along the cages, jabbing their shock staves in between the bars. The menagerie quickly grew silent. The farthest cage in the lineup was much larger than the rest, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of a monster it held.

Licinus held his ten-foot-long steel war chain gathered up in loops. Three segments—a sharpened steel whip head for cutting, a middle with a spike caltrop to trap and entangle, and a steel ring on the end wrapped in leather to help him manipulate the weapon and draw it back after it was unleashed. On his belt, he also carried a standard military-issue vintus, the centurion's disciplinary shock stick.

Crassus handed me my armilla, which I eagerly snapped on to my wrist. A brief scan revealed that a series of sophisticated blocks had been placed on it, rendering its more complex functions useless. It could be used for basic shield functions and team and tournament communications, nothing more.

“I can't fight without my discus.”

Crassus reached into a metal storage chest and pulled out my weapon case. “You'll have to return it to this chest after each training session,” he said, passing it to me. “That's not negotiable.”

Fighting the urge to thank him, I snapped open the clasps of the case, threw it open, and snatched up Orbis. I felt a surge of renewed confidence as he vibrated with pent-up energy. With Orbis in hand, I felt I could take them all at once.

“Patience,” Crassus said in a warning tone. “You and Lurco will be pushed to meet the team standard. Endure and allow our form of training to give you the strength and speed you will need to withstand the challenges ahead.”

“Into formation, you gallows birds! Line up!” Licinus barked, and we all obeyed, even Crassus, who hated him but still knew his place as second in command. “Listen up, you scabby vultures. The war's about to start up again in the emperor's arena. You think you're gladiators, charioteers, barbarian hunters? You're wrong. You're soldiers, and I'm your commander.” He strode up and down our line, looking at each of us in turn. “Any time you've spent with me before, any relationship we've had in the arena or in governing House Sertorian means nothing now. All that counts are results. Each day you will jump to my command. No punishment will be spared for the weak.” Licinus stopped in front of me. “Crassus and Barbata here will be concerned with managing your arena style,” he continued. “In the Talonite arena we don't care for such nonsense, but in the Ludi Romani winning the crowd's approval is a vital ingredient in victory. At crucial moments, the game editor will freeze play and the mob will vote on life or death. That is why appearance is important and also why I will not tolerate a single mistake. No kill will be denied the Blood Hawks because we didn't bring down the enemy with enough flair to titillate the mob!”

Licinus resumed his pacing. “The emperor hasn't released the details of the course yet, but we know that all three arena disciplines will be brought into play. Every day for the next four weeks, each of you will train your skill—essedarii, bestiarii, and gladiatorii—as well as the rudimentary skills of the other two arts. Should any one of us fall, any other should be in a position to take up the slack. For the first three weeks we'll focus on one skill at a time—chariot training—followed by bestiarii combat and then gladiatorial bouts. After that we'll mix them together in every conceivable combination until, by the end of our time together, I will have forged you into the fastest and most lethal gladiatorial meat grinder the Ludi Romani has ever seen!”

Bestiarii combat. We would be fighting the barbarians in the black cages, then. I'd have to kill them—if they didn't kill me first.

Licinus led us to the edge of the course where two gleaming black, high-powered war chariots awaited. “Behold! The Quadriga Essedarius—the four-horse war chariot—the deadliest arena combat vehicle ever created.”

Pulsing illuminated streaks of ruby red coursed down the sides of the chariots in stylish sweeps. They'd been constructed from the best, most up-to-date materials, with no expenses spared. Money was an essential component in chariot racing. More sesterces meant better machines, engineers, mechanics, and racers.

“Each team is permitted one chariot equipped for fighting, with a second vehicle to carry the auxiliary immunes, survival equipment, and supplies. Treat them with care. These chariots are your lifelines—there'll be no alternate forms of transport in the field—and on an ice world like Olympus Decimus, that means the elements can kill you just as easily as an enemy swinging a gladius.”

Licinus then had the Corvinus brothers demonstrate the parts of the vehicle.

“Chariots come in different sizes and shapes depending on a team's strategy and fighting style,” Castor explained. “Ours are a balance of speed and strength—fourteen feet long, six feet wide in the middle, tapering to a point at both prow and stern. The antigravity discs on the hull will allow them to travel evenly at a height of one-and-a-quarter feet.”

The central carriage, called the bigae, was designed to accommodate all eight team members with the charioteer riding up front. Beneath it were two square hoverplates that kept it elevated above the ground. Four cables ran ahead of it attached to powerful hovering engines that pulled the chariots forward. Halfway between the bigae and the engines, the cables interfaced with a central differential ring. The ring transferred precise control over the floating engines to four leather reins that the chariot driver wrapped around his forearms. Using subtle combinations of movement, the charioteer was able to steer the vehicle at high speed through a wide range of motion. Castor Corvinus explained that if the driver of the vehicle lost control and the engines stripped the control ring, then he would be pulled forward by the reins, right out of the carriage. For that reason, all charioteers carried a falx—a short, curved blade—that they could use to try to cut themselves free before they were dragged to their death.

The third major section of the quadriga chariot was the two desultore skirmishers—light and fast speeder bikes for attack and defense that were integrated ingeniously into the main body, barely adding to the width of the chariot. The skirmishers could break away from and reconnect to the bigae as needed. Each skirmisher, long and thin, was intended to carry a single rider with greater speed and mobility than the bigae and was powered by an independent thruster cell at the rear.

The breakdown was very informative, but my main concern was how the twin brothers, with only one arm apiece, could hold their own against veteran charioteers with two. The Corvinus brothers raced in the hippodromes of Sertorius Primus, and no footage of them had ever got out of Sertorian space. All I'd been able to discover was that they used a kind of harness adapter, but that was hardly reassuring considering each gladiator had to trust the driver of the chariot with his or her life when engaging in high speed combat.

Licinus climbed into the nearest chariot and took position behind the driver's podium.

“Chariot drivers, take your positions, the rest of you get up here with me.”

Castor Corvinus strapped himself into the harness in a matter of seconds. He picked up the reins and flicked them around his forearm in a smooth, effortless movement.

“The Dioscurii are the best,” Licinus said. “The Viridian charioteers can't do half as well with two arms as our boys can with one.”

Licinus went on to explain how the chariots had been modified for the Ludi Romani. Strategically placed spikes and blades emerged from the armored hull and sides, designed to gore or upturn enemy vehicles or any barbarian beasts that drew too close during a melee. A central pole emerged from midvessel like a ship's mast. From the base of the mast, reaching to either side of the chariot, were narrow standing platforms that could be extended or retracted as needed. “These war chariots are big and strong. The antigravity plates attached beneath the hull are suitable for the craft to accelerate over most types of terrain, but the bow of the hull means the chariot can also function at high speed in water. In mountainous terrain, auxiliaries can attach caterpillar tracks and grapple lines to permit climbing. They're big, all right, but don't let their size fool you—they're fast. If you're fighting on a quadriga, you'd better be strapped into a harness, holding on to a rail or the central pole, or you'll fly off and be minced or crushed. Remember, on average, five percent of gladiators in past Ludi Romani tournaments have died at the hands of their own team chariots.”

Pollux Corvinus demonstrated how we could hang off the platform using a hand or connector strap to secure ourselves as we attacked with our weapons. We had to learn to move as a team—the chariots were fast and highly responsive, but the cost was stability. It was possible to tip a chariot if there was too sudden a weight change on one side and no one to act as ballast on the other.

“Charioteers, you must be swift and deadly,” Licinus instructed. “Protect your human cargo, for they will surely protect you. Bestiarii, you will kill this world's indigenous barbarians and any other beasties they throw at us to preserve your life and that of your teammates and, make no mistake, they will be coming at you thick and fast. Gladiators,” he said, turning to me, “you must protect your teammates and eliminate enemy competitors with merciless efficiency.”

Licinus then demonstrated how the narrow run could be used to find the best position for casting long- to medium-range weapons and that the central pole had strips of lapis negra sealed into it, which would work like a magnet to help my discus find its way back to me if I made a cast as the chariot raced across the ice.

“Right. Let's go at it. For training, we will divide into two teams and compete against each other,” Licinus ordered. “I will command Castor's chariot, Crassus will command Pollux's. In addition to leader and driver, each chariot will carry one bestiarii and one gladiator.”

I was paired with Mania and put on Crassus' chariot, my long-range weapon set to complement Mania's knives. Barbata with her trident caster was paired with Lurco and his hammer on Licinus' vehicle.

“We'll be thick as thieves,” Barbata said, smiling seductively at Lurco. The giant visibly flinched as she passed by him, angling his groin away from her.