Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator (25 page)

“Go to hell.” I stormed off down the right path, his laughter following me as I took another right turn and came face-to-face with a Sauromatae. Its clawed talons swung at my throat, but I stepped back just in time, cutting off its hand, using the momentum of that swing to turn inside its arms, cutting the soft, unarmored area of its throat. Only the slightest resistance registered as my weapon severed the brain stem. Black blood rushed over my arm. The lizard man took one step back and fell dead to the floor. My first time. A barbarian, an alien savage. Just like that, without a thought, I'd ended the life of another sentient being. My heart was racing, exhaustion and pain forgotten as the adrenaline raced through my veins. How should I feel about the dead lizard man at my feet?

And then another Sauromatae was coming at me and there was no time to think, and within a few seconds I'd killed again. Doubling back, I followed the maze's twists and turns, looking out for alien aggressors around every corner. From somewhere to my right, I could hear Lurco's war cry at the roaring of what might have been a red-maned Leonii, a large feline that secured its prey with two wiry tentacles. I hugged the left wall, traced along it without taking any diverging path, hoping it would lead me out, but I clashed with another Mandubii and had my right thigh pierced with the barbarian's black spines before I claimed its head with a rebound shot. It seemed that there were no “safe” paths. Every turn took me into danger, and judging by the sound of Lurco's cries, he was faring no better. My trick of following the single wall worked in the end, though, and I stumbled out of the maze. I went to take my hair down, but as my hand touched my mother's pin, I experienced an unexpected burning heat and had to pull away at once. The pin was radiating intense heat. But why? The medical immunes—doctors, nurses, bonesetters, and chemists—treated me quickly and then rushed on to Lurco, who came stumbling out behind me, covered head to toe in black and green blood. He fell to his knees, using the long-handled shaft of his hammer to stop himself collapsing with exhaustion.

“What kept you?” I asked. Despite the pain in my leg, my blood was up. The whole experience had been exhilarating. I felt like I could go through the course again.

“Both of you were just terrible,” Barbata criticized. “You came out the other side, all right, but you displayed no intelligence, no finesse, and you didn't find the safe way through.”

Licinus tapped Lurco with his shock staff and the big man yelped in surprise.

“Lurco's the one to receive administrative punishment tonight,” Licinus said. “Mock Hawk was right to offer to team up. When it's Roman against barbarian, there is no going it alone. We band together, wipe the mongrel bastards out, and then worry about what human throat to cut. Killing in the right order, that's the Roman way!”

Now Licinus and the other Sertorians moved through the maze, and there were howls and screams as the remaining beasts inside died swiftly and from the sound of it, horribly. In under a minute the Sertorians emerged covered in different colored bodily fluids—green, blue, red—none of which belonged to them. “Now that's the way to do it!” Licinus crowed, flicking his steel whip into the air, causing the flexible tip to crack again and again. This was what made him happy, wholesale slaughter.

Licinus studied us all, casting his experienced eye over his team. I did the same. Who was the weakest? They were covered in blood, so I couldn't judge by skin tone and had to guess which of them had expended the most energy. Certainly Licinus had been full of zest and after him … definitely Mania and Crassus if the amount of blood staining their armor was anything to go by.

“Barbata. You have the honor,” Licinus said, leaving the dark-haired beauty to deal with Lurco. And sure enough Licinus summoned Mania and Crassus and left the room. I'd correctly guessed his picks for the day.

“I'll give you a choice,” Barbata said to the big man. “You can take your beating here or you can come to my quarters and bed me. I'll warn you though, I'm very hands-on when it comes to lovemaking.” She squeezed her hands open and closed a few times, the long nails biting into her palms so that blood flowed onto the deck.

As Alba led me away, I head Lurco screaming at the pummeling Barbata was giving him. He'd chosen to avoid having sex with her and she'd taken it as an insult, if the curses she hurled at him were anything to go by. All in all, he probably made the best choice, though. The beating seemed the more survivable of the two options.

XIII

C
RASSUS ANNOUNCED A CHANGE
to my routine and charged me to go with Alba; he would join me shortly. I complained that I was still battered and bruised from training and covered in alien blood, but he wouldn't permit me a moment's rest. Alba helped me remove my armor before leading me up three decks to the science and medical division, where I found myself waiting outside a large steel door. There was no sign of Crassus. An hour passed and I began to worry.

Perhaps I hadn't performed well enough. Was this where my life would end, strapped down to a bed in a Sertorian hospital, the recipient of a lethal injection? With time to kill, I experimented with the pin, trying to make it hot again, but it had reverted to its usual state and I wondered if I hadn't imagined the heat in the aftermath of the maze. There was no damage to my hair, no smell of burning that should have accompanied such a strong radiation.

“I want to go back to my cabin,” I said when I ran out of patience. “I need to shower and change.” Not to mention I was bone-tired and my vision was blurring.

“I'd prefer we get started right away,” said Crassus as he rounded the corner.

He looked fresh and rested, in clean black robes, whereas I was still sweating, my body covered with bruises the size of eggs, and so tired I could barely lift my arms.

“Where were you?” I demanded.

“Administrative duties.”

“What kind of administrative duties?”

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but nonetheless answered, “When we pull out of hyperspace, before we enter the next Janus Cardo, it is standard procedure for the team to meet and update the proconsul and senators on our preparations for the coming games. It's part of the responsibility that goes with being a fully blooded Sertorian.”

“I was worried you'd gone to see Licinus. I feared he would cancel our deal and have me executed after my performance in the maze. I asked one of the immunes, and she said she thought you might be going to the officers' quarters.”

“No, we meet in the conference room on the bridge, and don't worry, Licinus won't harm you, not yet at least. I'm here, I'll protect you as long as you play ball. Now come along.”

We entered a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The only furniture was a black steel table and two chairs, one on either side.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“This is a schoolroom, and today I'm going to start teaching you. Then everything will become clear. Come in, please.”

“Teaching me what?”

“Barbata is in charge of reforming your body, but Mania and I have the pleasure of educating your mind and your heart. You can't help convince your countrymen that they should lay down arms and come to our side unless you look and act the part. That starts with knowing something about what we stand for.”

“Two years of war have told me everything I need to know about what House Sertorian stands for.”

He indicated that I should sit opposite him, and I was glad to take the pressure off my aching legs, but when I sat in the chair opposite him, I felt a sharp stab of pain. The medics must have missed one of my cracked ribs when they healed me, because it was agonizingly painful to sit and breathe at the same time.

“Some tisane,” I said. “If you want me to concentrate after this morning's fighting, then I'm going to need something.”

“The peasant drink? How quaint. Why not?” Crassus clapped his hands and ordered Alba to bring a fresh pot.

Crassus pressed a button on the table display, and the Sertorian anthem started up. Trumpets, a choir, pounding drums. High drama, typical over-the-top drivel.

“First, I want to introduce you to the most important document ever written in Roman history.” Crassus looked so pleased with himself, like a child showing off his Saturnalia presents.

“The Twelve Tables of Roman Law?” I said sarcastically. “Somehow they managed to bind an entire empire together.”

“Fear binds the empire together. Fear of the chaos that would consume us if it were to fall,” Crassus said. “This book is a way to overcome that fear of the unknown by learning to seize our own inner power.”

He pointed to a small white book on the table before me. It was rare to see printed matter, let alone a whole book, but that particular book had been distributed widely throughout the galaxy at great expense. The title—
The Seven Precepts of the Eagle
—was printed on the front in shining golden letters. At the bottom was the name of the author—Aquilinus.

“I've read it. I remember it being tedious in the extreme.”

“This is a subtle document. It takes time to be realized, and a teacher is needed to guide you in full comprehension. Luckily you have me.”

At Crassus' command, images formed on the ceiling and circular walls, triumphant images from Sertorian history along with series of despicable acts associated with House Viridian and the other two houses of the Caninine Alliance.

“You think that's going to work?” I asked. “Pointing out that we are imperfect? That we've made mistakes, committed crimes in times of war? Nothing that compares with the Sertorian efforts—civilian bombings, gas attacks, mass executions. Where are those images?”

“You already know all that. I'm just reminding you that we Sertorians have our heroic moments, and that our enemies are not without fault. It's a simple starting premise.” The images began to rotate like a children's carousel, cycling about the room. “Stand when you read, please,” Crassus instructed. “As a sign of respect.”

“Where's that tisane?” I demanded.

“Up, please.”

I sighed and rose to my feet. I noticed that the images on the wall were emitting a soft glow, filling the entire room with a constantly shifting spiral of red and purple light that enveloped Crassus and me. I picked up the book and read.

“One. The gods are dead.”

“Read it again with more vigor, please. That was not satisfactory.” Crassus had fully become the schoolmaster now.

“I can't read with vigor that which I do not believe. The gods are an eternal constant, the embodiment of the forces that shape the galaxy, the empire, and the people within it,” I said.

“It can be a challenging truth to contemplate, but once we have resigned ourselves to the fact that we are at the top of the genetic ladder, and that there is nothing above us but infinite potential, does that not liberate us? Force us to mature?” Crassus' tone was unbearably condescending.

“Are you talking about humans being above barbarians, or Sertorians being above everyone else? You're committing hubris. It's the fatal error of the antique plays. Those who think themselves above the gods are ultimately humbled not only by the gods but also by their own conceit,” I replied.

Alba appeared with a pot of tisane on a tray, the smell soothing me at once.

“Just a small cup please,” Crassus said.

I wanted to countermand the order, grab the whole gods-be-damned pot and down it at once, but I had my pride. The small cup the Iceni poured was sweet going down but hardly enough.

“The gods are a fairy tale told to frighten children too afraid to embrace their own potential,” Crassus continued patiently.

“The gods keep a check on how much damage we would do to ourselves and the galaxy if we were stripped of their influence,” I retorted, glaring at him. “Without the gods, there is no humility. How terrible are we when we think we are accountable to no one?”

He pointed to the empty tisane cup. “Feeling better now?” he asked.

“A little…”

Before I could continue, the bracelet about my wrist sent a shock through my body like a sledgehammer breaking up concrete. I fell back onto the seat. The aching bruises on my back from that morning in the gymnasium began to throb. This wasn't my plan, to argue with Crassus over this. I had planned to pick my battles with greater care, but Crassus' smug pomposity made it impossible to keep the fire under control. Why didn't my goddess come to my aid? Was she so fickle that she would abandon me for not making an offering on her feast day? Why had she let me, her faithful daughter, endure this misfortune? My faith was vulnerable, and now Crassus was pressing on that weakness, and it made me react instinctively. I had to defend my gods, because without them, I'd be totally at sea. I needed Minerva now more than I'd ever needed her before.

Crassus took a deep breath and calmed himself.

“It pained me to have to do that,” he said. “I recall reading in your file that your mother schooled you in philosophy. That makes you argumentative. Too much of the wrong kind of education can be as bad as too little. You are permitted to question; just remember that I am the teacher and you are the student.”

“If you want some quid pro quo, you can start by taking this thing off my wrist,” I demanded, pulling at the bracelet. “And giving me some more tisane.”

“Refrain from indulging in your animal nature. We must prove Licinus wrong together. We must show him that you can learn to master your base instincts and cooperate fully.”

“You'd feel differently about it if I was the one delivering the shocks.”

“I've suffered to learn these precepts too. Their value far outweighs any physical pain you might receive in the learning of them.”

I looked up from pulling at my bracelet to see that there was something different about Crassus. He had a quality of authority that I immediately responded to. My father, he reminded me of my father at that moment. More than that, it seemed like there was a transparency laid over the top of Crassus so that he actually took on Father's physical qualities, his age, his bulk, his robotic eye and arm. With that came a feeling of guilt and remorse, a need to atone for the sins I'd committed against him. I'd do whatever he wanted, if only he'd embrace me and tell me he understood, that things were going to be all right.