Chapter Nine: Proximo

The wooden cage holding Murtagh and Apollo picked up other slaves from towns and cities they passed. Murtagh wondered who his new master was and why he seemed to want so many slaves. There were at least 20 in the cage including Murtagh and Apollo. All, Murtagh noticed, were muscular and strong. What did his master want them for? Murtagh wondered.

As Murtagh continued to ponder his new master and his reasons for buying them, the slaves passed under an arched doorway set into what, Murtagh guessed, was the perimeter wall. They had arrived at last to their master's home.

The wooden cage stopped in a courtyard of a large stone castle. They were instructed to get down and form a line across the courtyard, by large burly guards, dressed in gold and black. Murtagh, with Apollo on his right, realized they were going to meet their master and, indeed, barely had the thought come to him, when the front doors opened and his new master came out.

It was the man who had bought them. He was wearing the same gold tunic and black pants he had worn when buying Murtagh and Apollo. He stood in front of them, almost directly in front of Murtagh, put his hands behind his back and addressed his new slaves,

"I am Proximo. I shall be closer to you for the next few days, which will be the last of your miserable lives, than the bitch of a mother that brought you screaming into this world. I did not pay good money for your company; I paid it so that I could profit from your death and as your mother was there at your beginning, so I shall be there at your end. And when you die, and die you shall, your transition shall be to the sound of applause…Gladiators, I salute you." Proximo spoke with passion and when he was finished he turned his back on them and walked back into his castle.

Murtagh watched as Proximo walked back inside the castle, with a detached interest. So he had been bought to die. He tried to feel fear, after all death had always been a deep fear of his, but he couldn't, all he could feel was the same cold numbness he had felt when he had found Tornac's body. For a moment, Murtagh wondered if he had lost the ability to feel emotion but no that wasn't it. He had simply lost his fear of death; after all, Galbatorix had shown him that there are worst fates then death.

Murtagh knew he was a good fighter and he was confident he could survive in the Gladiator arena. Suddenly Murtagh felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Apollo smiling at him.

"C'mon, Soldier. We're being taken round to the sparring fields to be tested on what we know", he said, giving Murtagh a gentle nudge to get him to move. Looking around Murtagh realized that one of Proximo's guards had been yelling instructions at them, while he had been lost in his thoughts. Smiling his thanks at Apollo, he followed the other slaves around to the back of the castle where the sparring fields were.

The sparring fields dominated the castle's back garden. Everywhere Murtagh looked, men fought. He watched the two men closest. The man on the left clearly had the upper hand; the man on the right was struggling. Suddenly he slipped on the grass and was impaled on the others sword. Murtagh watched in horror as two guards picked up the dead man and as quickly as they could, they dumped his body in a large cage on the outskirts of the sparring field that contained two large lions. Murtagh looked away, not wanting to see but unable to stop himself from hearing the sound of large teeth tearing human flesh. He felt sick. So that's what happened to the dead here. There was no honourable burial here.

Murtagh felt a hand give his shoulder a gentle and companionable squeeze and looked around into the compassionate midnight blue eyes of Apollo.

"Come, my friend. Let's go and sit until we are called", Apollo said and steered Murtagh to the benches that lined the edges of the field. Murtagh looked at Apollo walking beside him and felt a sudden rush of affection towards the older man. Apollo had been nothing but kind to him since they had met. As the son of Morzan, Murtagh wasn't used to strangers showing him kindness; usually they treated him with scorn and disgust. He was grateful that he had found a friend in his slavery. But even as he thought this, Murtagh felt a sudden stab of apprehension for Apollo. Apollo was a healer not a fighter. Would he survive as a gladiator?

Before Murtagh could worry any more about Apollo, his friend was called up to be tested. Murtagh felt a stab of fear for Apollo, but then he saw what they were using to test them, wooden swords. Murtagh relaxed and decided to find a way of teaching Apollo sword plays if he needed to.

Murtagh watched as Apollo faced the man who was testing them. He was a big, muscular man with broad shoulders, short brown hair and brown eyes. He looked scornfully down at Apollo, who had a determined look in his eyes. The man attacked and with one swift movement Apollo blocked him with ease. The look of surprise on the man's face was mirrored on Murtagh's. Again and again he attacked and every time Apollo blocked him and beat him back.

Murtagh watched the fight with fascination and wondered where Apollo had learned sword play and what other talents his friend had up his sleeve.

Proximo, who was watching from a chair under a canopy, looked satisfied.

"Enough. Red", he stated. Red was the colour that was dabbed onto the front of Apollo's grey rags. Murtagh had noticed that fighters were either red or yellow, with the red being the best fighters. He looked down at his filthy red tunic that Galbatorix had given him to match his dragon, and his thoughts wondered back to his beautiful ruby red friend. What was Thorn doing right now?

"Soldier", the shout from the man pulled Murtagh out of his thoughts. He looked up and realized that it was his turn to be tested.

Murtagh walked to the centre of the sparring field where the man was waiting. He took the long wooden sword the man offered and gazing down at it, an image of Tornac, the man who taught him sword play, came into his mind. Suddenly, Murtagh saw Tornac as he had last seen him. Burnt, Bloodied, Dead. Feeling a sudden rage and revulsion at what was being demanded of him, to kill for another man's profit, Murtagh threw the wooden sword to the ground and starred defiantly at Proximo, who looked at Murtagh with surprise and curiosity.

Proximo nodded towards the man, turning his attention to him, Murtagh saw the man nod back and then suddenly he attacked. He hit Murtagh in the stomach with his wooden sword, causing Murtagh to double up in pain. Ignoring the pain in his stomach, Murtagh straightened up and starred defiantly at the man before him. The man responded by hitting Murtagh again. Harder this time and this time he hit Murtagh on the left shoulder. The force of the blow caused Murtagh to lose his balance and stumble but he did not go down. Again he straightened up and starred at his opponent. The man now looked annoyed. He brought his wooden sword up and made to hit Murtagh in the head. Murtagh didn't as much as flinch, he merely stood there waiting for the blow to come. But just before it connected,

"That's enough! His time will come", Proximo shouted. The man stepped back from Murtagh and a servant dabbed yellow onto his tunic.

Proximo didn't take his eyes off the soldier as he was given his colour and led away to the slave block. The soldier looked no older than nineteen but he had bravery. He never flinched as Demetri's sword hit him and he kept getting up for more.

As he watched the other slaves, he thought back to the moment when the soldier had locked eyes with him and that's when Proximo had seen it. The boy could be no more than nineteen but his eyes had a deadened, haunted look, as if he had seen, heard and experienced horrors beyond imaging. Proximo had to admit he was curious about his boy soldier.