Wolf’s Empire: Gladiator (51 page)

“The seventh precept of the eagle is the secret of the new order, the key to the coming golden age. It is an extension of the first precept: The gods are dead … but you shall now worship the New Gods as you did the old.”

“I'm stunned,” I retorted. “You could knock me over with a feather. You mean you Sertorians really are in it for your own glorification after all?”

“Don't make me use the bracelet,” he warned. “Try to clear your mind. Let go of your prejudices. I don't want to think you're trying to undo all the good work we did aboard
Incitatus
on the way over. We don't want to have to go through that again, do we?”

“No,” I whispered.

He leaned forward in his chair and took my hands in his.

“It sounds ridiculous, I know, except you're missing the key. It's all about the right perspective. You see, what you don't understand is that we actually are gods. Or at least the seeds of gods. It's the ambrosia—it changes whoever takes it.”

“First you said the gods are dead, now you think you're next in line to replace them? Like when the Olympians took the place of their parents?”

“Exactly like that.”

“Someone else already tried that,” I said reasonably. “His name was Tantalus. He stole nectar and ambrosia, the food of the gods, and gave them to men. The gods stuck him in the underworld and punished him with eternal thirst and hunger. A river ran up to his chin and whenever he went to drink, the water level dropped. Fruit was always dangling above his head, but when he craned his neck to reach for it, the wind would blow it away.”

“Hear what I'm saying, Accala. The proconsul named ambrosia quite deliberately. It won't really be made available to all, at least not in any significant quantity, not the way we consume it. It's more than it seems, so is this world.” He turned my hands over, exposing my inner arms. “You've tried cutting yourself here, haven't you?” His fingertips brushed gently across the skin, making it prickle with desire. “And the cuts closed up by themselves, didn't they? Not even a scar remains.”

I pulled my hands away from him. “Did Julia tell you that?” I asked. Gods, be careful. His touch fazed me. I must not give away too much, I'd have to watch every word I said!

“The mechanic isn't important,” he said. “The secret of the ambrosia is. Haven't you found your injuries healing by themselves during the games?”

“It accelerates the body's healing factor,” I said.

“No, it's much more than a stimulant, much more than something that improves performance. Listen to me carefully. I mean this literally. The ambrosia is the raw stuff of creation. It's not just the food of the gods, it's the food that makes you a god. And we found it here. On this world.”

I tried to look surprised. Seriously, Crassus was just as cracked as the rest of his people.

“It's the Hyperboreans, isn't it?” I asked. “They make it somehow.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching mine, his fingers trailing over my bracelet as he decided what he was going to tell me. Finally, he smiled and said, “Not make, collect. They're like bees. Their bodies absorb a substance called ichor as they travel through their tunnels and deposit it in their hives, but that's not really relevant.”

“Right. Becoming a god is the important thing.”

“Yes. Believe me, Accala, this world is the home of the gods—Olympus, hidden in plain sight,” he said.

My dream. I saw the words—
Minerva Olympus
—scratched into the glass in my mother's hand.

“And that's why you bombed it,” I said. “That's why you killed my mother. For some petty delusion of godhood?”

“Not me,” he said. “Licinus was behind that, you must remember that, but you're partly right. This is what your mother discovered, it was the secret she was going to ferry back to House Viridian and your Proconsul Severus, and we couldn't allow that.

“And although you may find it hard to see it that way, the bombing was a blessing. We knew ichor was valuable, but every test and experiment to turn it to our uses failed. The radiation fallout from the bombing transformed ichor into the ambrosia you know and enjoy. Ichor, and now ambrosia, saturate this world, and the Hyperboreans are the universe's greatest joke. The most stupid of creatures carrying about the most valuable substance in the galaxy, and not a brain cell between their ears to know what to do with it. Happily, their loss is our gain.

“We haven't reached the zenith of our abilities using the ambrosia, Accala. We're only just beginning, and who knows what we will be when we finish. No false godhood like the emperor, claiming to be the son of Venus and Mars.” His large hands enfolded my own, kissing them. Whatever he believed about the ambrosia, I was certainly feeling the absence of it. The clawing internal sensation of withdrawal immunized me a little from my feelings for him. I stood and tried to get my legs to move without throwing up from the pain.

“Don't go.” Crassus reached out and touched my cheek. Gods, but I hated that. His permissiveness, his unwanted intimacy. “I've told you a great secret tonight. I hoped it would bring us closer together.”

“Your secret wasn't that great,” I said. “Besides, I've got a headache and just about every other kind of ache.”

“I have something that will help with that,” he said. “A present.” He held up a phial of ambrosia. A whole phial. My whole body quivered in anticipation.

“I was saving it for you, for a special occasion. Now you've learned all seven precepts. Tomorrow you'll receive a uniform with seven red bands.”

“You want to give me a phial of ambrosia for that? Is there an eighth precept I can learn?”

Never in my life had I wanted anything so badly. I wouldn't be able to take the Sertorians down if they kept me weak and desperate. I needed to be strong for the next round. But he wasn't where I needed him to be yet. Crassus had to be willing to tell me anything I wanted. One more step away from him, toward the entrance to the tent, and he jumped up from his chair to head me off.

“If you want me to stay, then tell me about my brother. Tell me where he is,” I said.

“It's funny you should press the issue tonight. I had planned to talk to you about just that, especially based on the game editor's announcement this morning.”

“That the next leg will be fought in the Hyperborean hive network?”

“Precisely.”

“And what did you want to tell me about that, then?” I asked, pushing my body seductively into his.

“Your brother Aulus. He's near, Accala.”

I was stunned at his honesty. He wanted me tonight, and it seemed he'd tell me just about anything I wanted to know.

“How near?”

“He's held on a facility of ours located beneath the alien tunnels. We'll be closest when we enter the new bestiarius course.”

“You're sharing information very generously all of a sudden,” I said.

“And with good cause. I suppose it's time to put my cards on the table. I have every intention of following through on our deal. I will reunite you with your brother if you help me kill Licinus and win the games, but a few complications have arisen since we arrived on this world, and I need your help.”

“Complications?”

“We don't actually have possession of your brother at this moment in time.”

So there it was. Julia's report was true.

“You don't have him? Is he dead?”

“He's alive,” Crassus said. “We placed sensors on him. They're still in operation. He hasn't moved, his vital signs haven't changed. He's alive, I swear it.” Crassus spoke quickly, trying to reassure me.

“We're heading into the tunnels in the next round, and once we've killed Licinus, we'll go and save your brother. I want to present him to you as a wedding gift. It'll be perfect, we'll do everything together, in perfect union.”

“Wedding?”

“Of course, but we'll wait until after the tournament. Now listen. Licinus has a plan to trap the Caninine contestants. He won't tell me the details now, but the moment he makes his move, all attention will turn to the death of the Wolves and their allies. That's when we'll strike him down. Then we blame his death on the Hyperboreans.”

“And the others?”

“They'll follow the strongest. That's how it works with us. After Licinus is dead, you and I will free your brother from the barbarians and then emerge from the other side of the tunnel network as the new leaders of the Talonite Axis. We'll win the tournament together, take the empire's breath away.”

I had him hooked, I could feel it, he was hungry. Crassus was breathing fast. Just when he thought he was finally going to bed me, I was going to kill him.

“And the ambrosia that's on this world?” I asked.

“An offering to the proconsul. A gift to cement our position. This is a small step, but in the long run it'll be just you and me, Accala. Running the entire empire. One day, I'll make you my empress.”

He placed the phial in my palm, tenderly folding my fingers about it. I pushed it back at him with the last of my willpower, uttering a feral groan, baring my teeth at him like a wild animal.

“Get away from me,” I growled. Crassus pulled me close, his eyes burning with expectation. My body betrayed me and pressed seductively into his. His eyes widened in surprise; he'd been expecting resistance. But I couldn't do it. How could I give myself to him? How could I shame myself so? It was impossible.

They'd taken Orbis from me, and I wouldn't have him back until morning, but resting against the tent wall, just behind Crassus, was his javelin. I angled my body slightly backward, the fingers of my right hand brushing the weapon. Crassus was breathing fast.

“You are strong willed,” he said. “A worthy choice, a perfect partner, a perfect vessel. Our children will rule the empire one day.”

Before I knew it, I had the javelin in my hand, threatening him with it. Crassus wasn't surprised or alarmed.

He reached out slowly, his hands wrapping about the javelin's shaft, but he didn't take it from me. Instead he placed the point into the soft place at the base of his throat.

“Do you truly wish to kill me? Is that why you're keeping your distance, or is it really that you have feelings for me that you're afraid to admit?”

Any logical thought had fled; all that remained was the burning fire that couldn't be contained a moment longer. I despised Crassus, hated what he'd turned me into. He had to pay. Blood for blood, pain for pain.

Crassus slowly moved his hands away and held them at his side, palms raised, making himself an offering.

“I won't force you, Accala. I want you to give yourself to me freely or kill me. It's up to you.”

He moved toward me, desire in his eyes, the javelin's point pressing against the tight skin of his throat so that I'd be forced to pull the shaft back to prevent his death. All of the conditioning aboard the ship, the hours in the machine, the countless touches and embraces—they weighed down my arm, made it heavy as lead. I wanted to yield to him, I wanted him to take me. Most of all, I wanted the ambrosia.

“Accala, you can't fight forever,” he said.

I thrust suddenly, pushing the javelin up and into him. The sharp point pierced his throat, glancing off the vertebrae of his neck before emerging through the back right side of his neck. I couldn't believe it, but I had done it. I had killed him. Gods, what had I done? Crassus was my only Sertorian ally, the only one who knew where Aulus was. What would happen to me once the other Blood Hawks found out?

He didn't fall, though. He just stood there, looking at me. To my horror, he carefully reached up and pulled the javelin right out. Blood began to pump out of the wound, spilling all over the white furs he was wearing. I was stunned, frozen in place, my body in shock.

“You know, I didn't think you were actually going to do that,” he said, the gurgle of blood in his throat making him sound like a nightmarish ghoul. “You're a constant surprise. Like a force of nature. I never know what you're going to do next. There's something Sertorian about you, an inherent ruthlessness. I suspect I overplayed my hand—telling you about the last precept at the same time as giving you the news that your brother was no longer in our custody. You were too distracted. You weren't able to make the conceptual leap I'd hoped for regarding the ambrosia. But sometimes words aren't enough. So I suppose I'll just have to show you.”

He reached out, took my hand, and placed the phial of ambrosia in it again.

“Drink,” he said. “You're going to need it.”

I didn't argue. I needed it now or I'd pass out. Shock was setting in. I felt the cold cutting into me like a knife, passing right through me as if I weren't wearing any furs at all. I broke the top off the phial and downed the contents in a single gulp. The combination of pleasure and relief from pain was overwhelming and exquisite. As the ambrosia had its way with me, I noticed that the bleeding from Crassus' throat had stopped and the wound was beginning to close over.

Crassus spun the javelin about deftly, and fast as lightning, he thrust it into my belly. I felt it move through my skin, layers of muscle, all the way past my spine, and then just as quickly, he drew it out. The shock of it made me gasp. It paralyzed my whole body, but then I felt something unexpected, like a thousand little ants inside me. I couldn't tell if they were very hot or very cold, but they were rushing about. It felt like they were knitting, reweaving threads that had become unraveled. I looked down, pulling my furs aside, pulling up my jerkin. I touched the hole in the middle of my flat belly in disbelief as it began to close around my fingers. I didn't feel any pain. No pain at all.

“You see,” he said. “We're gods already.”

His lips pressed against mine, he slid my furs off, pushed my jerkin farther up, exposing my breasts. The wave of pleasure that hit me was tidal; it swept away any resistance before it. He was pulling at the pin that held my hair in place. I didn't stop him. It had been pulled back too tight for too long. I wanted it to be free, to feel him run his hands through it. I kissed him back, fiercely, biting his lip, drawing blood. When he stepped back, I snatched his javelin from him and swung it in an arc, slicing open his cheek. He snatched it back and thrust forward, piercing my breast, the weapon pushing through my beating heart. The hot ants swarmed about it instantly, healing me, knitting bone, muscle, skin back together even as he began to withdraw the weapon from my body.