Fifteen years ago

The man stood over the small cloaked figure, his ragged breathing slowly returning to normal as he stared at the battered and bruised Araluen. He knew this man was Araluen, he was too tall to be Scotti, and the Scotti would never throw one of their own to the Pit. No, this man was a foreigner, and the oddest contender ever to enter the Pit.
"Stand up and fight," the slave fighter commanded, tightening his grip on his perferred weapon, a cudgel. "I will not show mercy because you refused to stand."
"And I will not fight for the entertainment of others," the man gasped, his blue eyes glowering at the Pit slave. "I will not obey them. I am a free man."
"Then fight for your life," the slave pulled the cloaked figure to his feet. "Use those tiny knives to defeat me and stay a free man," he spat the last words. He wished for the chance the Scotti gave this strange figure in a mottled cloak. One victory and he received a lifetime of freedom. A victory for the slave only gave him one more day.
"I will not," the man gasped again, his eyes hardening as he looked in the slave's mismatched eyes. "This is wrong."
"I know," the slave raised the cudgel, his toned muscles rippling in the golden sunlight. "But it's the only option we have," the club fell, clipping the man over his left ear and sending him sprawling over the sandy ground again.
Around them the crowd jeered, their rough language reverberating through the massive main arena of the Pit. The slave looked up from the free man, to the crowd who had cheered him through several years of cruel beatings from other slaves. They gathered to watch the fights, they did not care who it was or why, they just wanted a fight.
He was used to this now, now the only person he cared about was the kilted Scotti who owned him; the one who had branded him with the eight pointed star at the base of his skull. The man who had given him an impossible choice: Fight this free man to the death or fight a massive beast taken from the mountains far to the north. The slave was no fool; a half starved slave could never defeat a massive animal that survived in the harsh mountains. He would fight the free man, and he was going to win against this free man.
The kilted Scotti, a clan general, frowned down at his slave, this was not the fight he had wanted. The general was disappointed in how this was going. That would only end badly for the slave in the arena, facing the free man. The slave knew what he needed to do to resolve the general's disappointment.
The cudgel fell heavily on the arena floor as the slave hosted the Araluen to his feet again. The free man could not hold one eye open, blood trickled down his face from the wound that had flattened him for the third time in the short amount of time they had been fighting. The slave lifted him higher, his toes barely scrapping the ground.
"If you do not fight back, they will kill us both," he whispered, drawing the man closer as he spoke. "And your morals will be nothing for a pair of corpses."
"I will not fight," the man started again.
The slave's hands tightened around the collar of his opponent's tunic, "Don't be a fool! If you fight and the general likes it, you'll be free! You can go back to what life you had outside of this hell!"
"I came here in service to the Queen of Araluen," the man seethed, his eyes locking with the slave's once more. "I will not fight for the entertainment of these people."
"Do you not want to return home? Have you nothing to live for out there?" the slave threw his opponent across the arena, advancing after him quickly. "This is the one chance you have to get away."
"I won't just leave. I have a mission," the man persisted.
"Fool!" the slave raised his fist to let it fall on the free man's head, to render him unconscious.
As the blow began to fall, the free man leapt from his back, one of his knives appearing in his hand. The hilt of the saxe knife smashed into the slave's nose. The slave staggered back several steps, blood streaming from his shattered nose, growling at the free man in the mottled cloak.
"I don't want to kill you," the man held his hands up to the slave, but he still held the heavy saxe firmly. This was the desperate plea of a man who knew he could not win.
"Then you're going to die," the slave wiped the blood from his upper lip, spitting as he advanced again.
This time the slave was ready. He dodged the knife, ducking under the swing and slammed his fist into the chin of his opponent. The man flew through the air, his knife falling from his hands as the mottled stranger slid over the ground.
"I am not going to die a slave," the young Arridi promised, bending down to retrieve the knife in the sand. "And if killing you is the only way to ensure that, I will."
The two men stared at one another, both breathing heavily. The Araluen on the ground started to rise slowly, propping himself up on his elbows, spitting blood from his mouth.
"I refuse to fight."
"Then you choose death," the Arridi breathed, his gold and silver eyes matching the blue of the Araulen's.
"When you get away from here," the Araluen spoke as the slave advanced, "find my daughter. Tell her why she lives without a father."
"She will live," the Arridi spoke calmly. "She will live, even without a father. And that will be for the same reason I did," the slave continued.
"And what reason is that?"
"Men are cruel," the slave responded.
The saxe knife fell on the chest of the mottled free man, the heavy blade burying itself in the rib cage of the young man. As the life blood of the man spilled into the sands, his blues eyes locked once again on the mismatched eyes of the slave. The slave squared his shoulders, waiting for the curse all the fallen spat with their dying breath.
"The Rangers will stop this. And you will have the blood of Mark Pritchard on your hands."
"Then I wish the Rangers luck," the Arridi wiped the blood from his lip again as he turned to the Scotti general. "They will need it to stop what the Scotti have planned."
The Scotti smiled grimly, nodding his head briefly.
It seemed Vladimir Ajam was going to live to fight another day.


A/N This is the sequel to The Ranger's Daughter. I suggest you read the first adventure before continuing with this story, or the events following this chapter will not make much sense to you. If you've already read The Ranger's Daughter; Welcome back and I hope you enjoy the new installment of the Ranger Corps daughter's adventures.