He rolled free as the corpse came down, dragging the blade from the body, then crouching as the handler’s whip left a long red stripe on his upper arm. He turned to regard the plainly terrified beast-master with a raised eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
The handler stared at him in terrorised indecision; fighting or fleeing meant the same fate. Reva spared him further consideration, leaping to plant both feet in the centre of his face, sending him senseless to the sand. She knelt to retrieve his whip and a small dagger protruding from his boot.
“May I say, my lady,” the Shield greeted her with a bow, “how very fetching you look today. Red is truly your colour.”
She grunted and ran towards Allern. “You’d have a better chance with these beasts.”
Allern had driven the two surviving cats to the edge of the arena, chest heaving as he swung the whip, containing every rush and lunge they tried to make. Reva used her own whip to snag one around the foreleg, dragging it down so the Shield could finish it with his sword. She killed the last one herself, taunting it into a charge, dodging to the side, then leaping onto its back, the dagger stabbing down beneath its shoulder blades, again and again until its struggles ceased and a final piteous hiss escaped its snout.
As she rose from the corpse the exultation of the crowd descended like a deluge, the tiers above a sea of joyous faces, screaming in admiration and, she saw with disgust, naked lust. Men leered at her, women bared their breasts, and a torrent of flowers cascaded onto the sand. One landed near her feet, an orchid, the petals a pale shade of pink that darkened to deep red at the edges.
“Pick it up!” the Shield hissed at her and she noted he had a clutch of flowers in his hands. “You too, lad!” he called to Allern. “Pick them up, quickly!”
Reva knelt and retrieved the orchid, noting how the crowd’s feverish adulation rose to an even greater pitch.
“A sign of their favour!” the Shield shouted to her above the tumult before casting a cautious glance at the Empress’s balcony. “Hard to ignore for those who orchestrate these spectacles.”
Reva looked to the balcony, seeing the Empress’s slender form still seated on her bench, face veiled in shadow. She seemed utterly still and Reva wondered if she had slipped into another vacant episode. She also doubted that the Empress held any regard for the traditions formerly observed here. She hates them, she remembered, glancing at the crowd. What does she care for their favour?
She saw the Empress raise a hand to cast a casual flick at Varulek, the black-clad striding forward to order the trumpets sounded once more. This time the crowd’s obedience was not so instant, the exultation and lust taking longer to fade, leaving a simmering murmur that continued even after the Empress rose and moved to the edge of the balcony. Reva’s spirits sank at the expression she saw on her face. No fury or frustration, just warm, and sincere, affection. Her lips moved in a silent endearment, easily read, “You truly are my sister.”
• • •
She found Lieza pacing when they returned her to the chamber, the girl starting in surprise and relief as Reva stepped inside and the door slammed shut. Lieza came forward with a tremulous laugh, drawing up short at the sight of the blood that spattered Reva from head to toe, though she seemed more shocked by what she held in her hands.
“Where you get that?” she asked.
Reva glanced down at the orchid. She had kept hold of it as the Empress decreed the spectacles had concluded for the day and a dozen Kuritai trooped into the arena. Allern and the Shield were shackled and led off to another door, though not before the young guardsman sank to one knee before her, gazing up with near-frantic devotion. “The Father has blessed me, my lady!” he called as they dragged him away. “In allowing me to fight with you this day!”
The Shield was notably less enthused. “We won no victory here,” he said over his shoulder. “You know that, I assume?”
“We’re alive,” she replied. “And you’re welcome, my lord.”
Reva wondered why Varulek hadn’t taken the flower from her. The Master of the Arena had been silent on their journey back to the cell, his expression more tense than before and his eyes continually straying to the flower in her grasp. “Did I spoil the story?” she asked him as they came to the chamber door. “The legend had a different ending, I suppose.”
“Morivek and Korsev stood at the entrance to the fire pits and held back the harbingers for a day and a night.” The black-clad stood back as the Kuritai removed her shackles with their customary caution. “Morivek, the eldest, fell mortally wounded and beseeched his brother to flee. But Korsev stayed, possessed of such a rage that he killed every harbinger to emerge from the pit and, seeing his brother now dead, cast himself into the bowels of the earth, seeking yet more vengeance, never to be seen again. Though, as with any legend,” he added as the door swung open, “the tale changes depending on the author.”
“In the arena,” she told Lieza, holding out the orchid. “Take it if you want.”
The girl shrank back, shaking her head. “Not for me.” She glanced again at Reva’s bloodied form and moved towards the far end of the chamber. “I make you bath.”
Reva sat on the marble steps as the water gushed from the ornate bronze spigot in the wall, massaging her wrists as the steam rose. “I wash that for you,” Lieza said, pointing to Reva’s bloodied clothing.
“You are not my slave,” she said.
“Not free either.” Lieza shrugged. “Nothing else to do.”
Reva stood, staring at Lieza in expectation. The girl seemed puzzled for a moment then laughed and turned her back. Reva kicked off her shoes then removed her blouse and trews, leaving them piled on the floor as she stepped down into the water, sighing at the soothing warmth.
“Who you fight?” Lieza asked, grinning a little as she knelt to retrieve the clothes, gaze still averted.
“Cats with big teeth.”
“You kill them all?”
“All but three.” Reva recalled the sight of the three surviving cats, busily gorging themselves on the body of their fallen master, fangs and faces red from frenzied feeding. Despite the horror of the spectacle she couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity. For all their fury these were wretched creatures, continually starved, brutalised and denied the role the Father had ordained for them. This is what they do, she decided. Twist the world out of shape according to cruel whim.
She spent a few moments unpicking her braid and sank under the water, working her fingers through the tresses to dislodge the matted blood. The bath was deep, allowing her to fully submerge herself, sinking down until her feet touched the tiled bottom. The feel of hair on her fingers stirred memories of Veliss, how she loved to comb her hair, shape it into one of the thousand designs she knew. Veliss, Ellese . . . So far away and most likely lost for good.
A disturbance in the water caused her to resurface where she started at the sight of Lieza sinking naked into the bath. “What are you doing?” she demanded, looking away.
“Clothes need washing.” The girl reached for Reva’s piled garments and dumped them into the water, a faint smile on her lips.
“Do it later.”
“Not your slave.” Lieza’s smile broadened as she reached for a cake of soap and began to scrub at the clothes. Reva turned away, moving to the edge of the bath, wanting to climb out but knowing the girl’s gaze would follow her if she did.
“Your people have no respect for each other,” she muttered. “No regard for life, or privacy either it seems.”
“Privacy?” Lieza asked.
“Being . . .” Reva struggled to translate the concept, finding it harder than expected. “Being alone, keeping secrets. Protecting modesty.”
“Modesty?”
“Never mind.” She heard Lieza stifle a giggle as she returned to scrubbing her clothes. “Not so afraid now, I see.”
“No, still afraid. Comes like a . . .” Reva heard her splash at the water.
“A wave?”
“Yes. Wave. Big wave when I try to kill the Empress. Smaller wave now.”
Reva found herself turning in involuntary surprise, then averting her gaze again at the sight of Lieza’s breasts protruding just above the water. “You tried to kill her?”
“With poison. Didn’t work. Kept me with her.” Lieza’s tone darkened. “Found me . . . funny.”
“Why did you do it?”
“My master . . . not just my master. Father also. My mother a slave. She die when I’m little. He raised me, loved me. Couldn’t free me, the law. Didn’t like the Empress and said so. She gave him the three deaths, took all his slaves as her own.”
“I regret your failure. Though, on behalf of my queen and people, I thank you for the effort.”
“Queen is also word for Empress, yes?”
“I suppose, though they are very different.”
“Your queen not cruel?”
Reva recalled the sight of the queen sinking her dagger into the Volarian’s chest back on the ship, her instant and complete change of demeanour as his body was thrown over the side. “She is fierce in her dedication to our cause, it being just.”